dressed in coats buttoned to their chins, with neat, proper hairstyles for the women and crisp top hats for the men. All in bland, neutral palettes.
Kallia had never felt more out of her element, conspicuous in her billowing emerald-green cloak. With her dark hair worn down and wild in the wind, her burgundy boots peeking out with each step, she was honestly more grateful for how much her cloak covered than its warmth. If people saw what she wore beneath or the clothes in her bag, she’d probably have a mob chasing her out the gates. From the offended stares and whispers following her, it was still a possibility.
What have I gotten myself into?
The question beat mercilessly inside with no answer. No other choice but to move forward, because what else was there, looking back?
Nothing.
No one.
Kallia lifted her head high and strutted down the street, combating all the side eyes and the hopelessly lost feeling that pricked at her inside. Beneath the ice, Glorian was carved with rough red-rock roads and serpentine paths as confusing as the Dire Woods. The buildings were not at all like the mountainous manors that had welcomed her from afar, but tall, austere masses. Discordant architecture without signs or labels, and it only infuriated Kallia more. As if she were wearing a blindfold in an already pitch-black room, all while an audience watched.
The Alastor Place. Finding it would be the first step. When Kallia had looked closer at the flyer, her chest nearly caved with relief at the fine print promising accommodations and a stipend to the contestants, for as long as they kept their spots in the game.
And yet no one would offer her even the grace of a direction when she asked. They grunted out hurried responses, rushing away each time she tried approaching.
On a sharp breath, Kallia crossed her arms, above caring if she was in someone’s way. Growing more frustrated as she—
“Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry!”
Someone had collided into her. She nearly toppled over, were it not for the warm grip latched tightly on her elbow. Suppressing a scowl, she looked up at a young, long-limbed stranger in a dusty beige coat. Finely made, with the top brass buttons missing.
“Apologies, miss, I’m not usually so clumsy.” The young man grinned sheepishly, struck with surprise. But the face peeking out from the shadow of his hat spoke a different story, a hint of wickedness that would not be masked.
In the silence that lingered, the man drew his fingers away from her elbow. “I was only on my way to the post, are you all right? Can I get you anything?”
Brows arched, Kallia never broke eye contact. Not even as she grabbed the hand that had begun sliding stealthily into her pocket. “Over-politeness is an obvious tell, you know.”
The man paused under her hold. “A tell?”
“Same with your whole getup.” Kallia looked him over. “It’s almost too obvious. You don a fine coat, but the top buttons are missing. Your shoes are clean, but haven’t been buffed in some time. There are a few stray threads off the rim of your hat you probably pilfered.” She considered him closer, tapping on her lip. “The smudge beneath your chin was a nice clue, as well.”
The young man didn’t stiffen like a caught deer. Instead, he tilted his head, curious as a bird. “Pitfalls of being taller than a lamppost. Still, you’ve listed lots of details but not the sum of them.”
“Fine, you want specifics? You’re a thief.”
At this, he smiled. “Am I, now?”
“Don’t act proud—you’re clearly not that good at it.” Kallia looked down, inspecting the nails of her free hand. Tightening the grip of her other. “Kindly let go of what you were trying to take, or I’ll twist until something snaps.”
The thief complied, and her viselike grip loosened. But when she released him, he didn’t run. Just stood there, blinking. “Zarose, where did you come from?”
“Nowhere remarkable,” she said without missing a beat, shifting her glance over her shoulder. “Now, if you would be so kind, could you point me in the direction of the Alastor Place?”
“Ah, I knew it. Lots of people from the outside have been popping into town.” The thief’s brow quirked. “Here to audition for the competition? Are you an assistant?”
“I most certainly am not.” Kallia’s jaw worked when he only snickered. “Point me in the direction of the Alastor Place, and we’ll be even.”
“For what?”
“You did try to steal from me.” With a casual shrug, she cocked