Twisted Metal Heart - Eve Langlais Page 0,45

repeated question had her snapping, “I’m homeless. Are you happy? Now let me in.”

“Request denied.”

She blinked at the post. “Why?”

It didn’t speak.

She eyed the bridge. What would happen if she crossed?

Bad things she imagined. Change of plan.

She rapped the post. “Listen here, whoever is on the other end of this line. I want to speak with your king.”

“Do you have an appointment?” The male voice sounded bored.

“I’m Enclave. I don’t need an appointment,” she snapped. It always worked for Mother.

Here it earned her a snort. “Sure you are.”

For a moment, she thought about marching away. There were other villages she could visit. She could even keep going and maybe even make it to Sapphire Port City. But that would mean not investigating the possibility Titan had ended up here.

Taking a deep breath, she decided it was time to stop hiding. “Tell your king Riella of the Emerald City is here to see him.”

Eleven

“Who?

“Riella Mekka. I’m from Emerald, and I need to speak with the king.”

“The king is a busy man.”

“Tell him!” she insisted, wishing she could reach through the speaker and throttle the man.

“Very well.”

The post went silent, and she sat with her back against it, pulling out a brush and making some attempt to straighten her hair. The best she managed was to put it in a tail that she then pinned to her head.

The voice crackled suddenly. “I apologize for the delay, my lady. Your request to enter the city has been granted.”

“As if there was a doubt,” she muttered. She stalked across the bridge. Its wood was warped and worn. Easy to destroy if they wanted to isolate the city from ground traffic.

But the water still allowed a point of entry. She glanced over at the gray scum atop the liquid as a huge hump with jagged fins heaved from the muck, massive and slick.

She would have to remember to swim in clearer waters. The river that moved swiftly around the city appeared to offer a better alternative. The boats tied at dock showed it could be navigated. Not that she wanted to sail. She hated not having her feet on the ground.

At the far end of the bright, a massive arch a few feet thick and made of stones mortared together possessed a more modern-style security system. Not only did she see a huge portcullis overhead as she passed through but the entire rim of it was lined with small holes singed all around.

Fire. Nice if you weren’t afraid of burning everything down.

As he entered into the city proper, a guard, with his hair tied back and long knotted beard, looked ready to go out and wrestle something in the water. Good to know they didn’t stand on formalities here. Although she noticed the farther she entered the city, the more prosperous and modern everything was. Old stone meshed with glossy composite and solar-capturing window panels. Efficient. Expensive. It made her wonder where the ruler of the city got the funds to buy everything.

Her recollection from a few years ago was that someone calling himself Roark, the Marsh King, had banded together some people in an area that, according to history lessons, was owned by the Sapphire court but left largely unattended. The consensus summed up by Alfred had been that young King Roark was an “Upstart. He won’t last.” It would seem the upstart had done well for himself.

She pushed her goggles up. Alfred would keep recording everything he saw as he scouted, and she could watch the footage later.

The city had grown since her last visit. The outer bailiwick now contained by walls but still no motor vehicles. Those remained parked outside the city proper.

Despite the lack, they weren’t expected to walk to the castle. The guard hailed a buggy pulled by a thing. She had no name for it. It resembled a large rat but with reptilian skin. Docile, though, given it only required a tug of a rein for it to move.

She knew better than to strike up a conversation with the guard sitting across from her. He eyed her suspiciously. It almost made her want to shout, “Boo!” But he could be the kind with a quick trigger finger. She kept her hands folded and watched the city instead.

The hustle and bustle was nothing like the calm and order of an Enclave dome. The noise included laughter and song. No one wore uniforms other than the guards. There were no clanking Centurions making people nervous. No bobbing electronic eyes eager to