Sean Cullen - The Prince of Two Tribes

“Wow. Hello, Grumpy-Pants! It’s nice to see you, too.”

Brendan didn’t speak as she settled down next to him on the steps.

“Look who’s talking,” Brendan shot back. “You haven’t exactly been all sweetness and light, you know!”

Kim glowered but said nothing. They leaned against the door in silence for a moment, listening to the people laughing and singing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What’s wrong?” He laughed bitterly. “What isn’t wrong?”

“It’s not that bad, Brendan.”

“You don’t think so? I may die at the Proving!”

“You probably won’t, though.”

“Why not?” Brendan said softly, hanging his head. “What makes you so sure?”

Kim smiled her lopsided smile. “You always manage to surprise everyone. I believe in you.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

“And… ”

“And what?”

Kim took his chin in her hand and lifted his head until he was looking into her almond-shaped brown eyes. “And I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”

As Brendan studied her familiar face, the angle of her chin, her high cheekbones, the dark, glossy hair falling over her forehead, he realized suddenly how glad he was to see her. Charlie had shown up and stolen his attention. The lutin had stepped into his life and pulled him into her orbit. He’d neglected not only his friendship with Harold and Dmitri, but his friendship with Kim, too. He saw that she’d been hurt by that, and he felt ashamed.

Kim sensed his discomfort and mercifully let go of his chin. “All right, pal. It’s time to blow off some steam. I know just the thing. Follow me.”

She set off across the churchyard, her field hockey stick swinging back and forth on her back like a pendulum. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed her.

He didn’t know where they were going until she turned down a street and the looming spire of the CN Tower rose into the night before them. Year-round, the tower’s elevator shafts that crawled up the sides were lit up, but during the holidays, the lights were bright green and red, transforming the grey concrete finger into a gargantuan candy cane. Even through the cloud of his tension and worry, the sight lifted Brendan’s spirits. He felt a swell of fondness for the city he called home.

As they drew closer they were joined by others heading to the tower. Faeries emerged from the alleyways and side streets until a small group of colourfully dressed travellers coalesced into a throng. Some carried bundles on their backs, tightly rolled tubes of bright fabric and sticks that looked like tent poles.

“Hey, Ki-Mata! How’s it going?” a Faerie called, falling into step with them. She was carrying a multicoloured bundle on her back. She smiled at Brendan. “Hey, Brendan! I’ve never seen you out here before.”

Brendan recognized Cassie, the barista from the Hot Pot. Gone was the bland apron and Human disguise. She was out in all her Faerie glory. Her hair was aglow with filaments of silver wire woven into her dark tresses. She wore a tight jumpsuit of muted sky-blue and grey. “Hi. No, I guess not,” Brendan admitted. “What’s going on? Where are all these people headed?”

Cassie shared a sly look with Kim and slapped his back. “You’ll see!”

They jogged up the ramp by the baseball stadium and down into the open space at the foot of the tower. There they found a metal door propped open. The band of Faeries entered a dark room, hooting and shouting at one another, sending echoes all around. As Brendan’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realized they were at the bottom of a winding staircase. He looked up but the top was hidden from sight.

A Faerie man with a bright vermillion mohawk waving from the top of his head shouted, “Last one to the top is a Dwarf’s underpants.” Then he sprinted up the stairs out of sight. The others catcalled and shouted after him before setting off in hot pursuit.

“Come on, Brendan,” Kim laughed. “Believe me, you don’t want to be a Dwarf’s underpants!” She pushed him toward the stairs, and soon they were taking the treads two at a time.

Brendan had been to the top of the tower before, but only on one of the super-fast elevators. Running up in the dark was a totally different experience. He’d read somewhere that the staircase had thousands of steps: it was over half a kilometre high.^ 47 In his old life, he would have succumbed to exhaustion after a hundred, if he hadn’t already tripped over his clumsy feet and bounced all the way back down to the bottom. Now he took the steps with ease. He fell into an easy rhythm, pumping his arms and breathing easily. He started to enjoy himself, losing himself in the physical exertion. He easily matched Kim’s pace and even had to hold back a little to avoid outpacing her. Soon they caught up to the pack. They joined the jostling, laughing mass surging upwards through the dark.

Moments like these made him forget the new responsibilities that weighed on him. His worries over his family, the upcoming Proving, the conversation with Merddyn all dissolved in the simple pleasure of his physical existence. He relished being alive and being part of the joy of the Faeries around him.

All too soon, the group reached the top of the stairs. The last runner was jeered good-naturedly as he arrived on the landing. He was a short, wiry Faerie with luminous grey eyes. “I ain’t got long legs, ya know. Gimme a break.”

They were standing at what appeared to be a blank concrete wall. The stairwell simply ended.

“What now?” Brendan asked.

“Watch!” Kim said. The group reached out and grasped hands. Brendan took Kim’s and Cassie’s hands in his. Once all of the members of the group had established physical contact with someone, they began to sing.

The song had no recognizable words. They merely opened their mouths and uttered a soft, breathy sigh. Brendan tried to follow the lead of the others. He was self-conscious at first, but as the moment stretched out, he let himself go. The sound began as a single note sung in unison. Then individuals diverged, some sliding up, some sliding down, until the concrete space was vibrating with a lush, achingly beautiful chord that reverberated through Brendan’s body. He’d never felt anything so gorgeous, and he wanted to stay in that moment for as long as he could.

The chord crescendoed, and suddenly the wall before them shuddered and flowed away. A fresh, bitingly cold wind washed over them. The singers stopped and shouldered their burdens once more. Together, they stepped out onto an open platform. Brendan’s jaw dropped. The whole of the city, the lake, and the islands spread out before him.

“Neat, huh?” Kim laughed at his dumbstruck expression.

“The Dawn Flyers?”

“You got it, Brendan.” Cassie smiled. People were shrugging their bundles off and unwrapping them. Brendan watched as they assembled what amounted to broad kites, like the outstretched wings of gulls with harnesses at the centre. Brendan wandered around the platform, watching the work with undisguised fascination. As the wind whipped around them, they constantly struggled to keep the gliders from being plucked away.

Brendan walked to the edge of the platform. The ledge ran all the way around the central column of the tower. A roof of opaque resin or crystal kept the snow and some of the wind off the fliers as they prepared their equipment. Brendan gripped a support post and leaned out to look down. A hundred metres below, he saw the roof of the observation platform. He’d been there before with his parents and had stood on the glass floor and felt his stomach drop away as he saw the ground so far below. This platform was higher still and nowhere near as safe or enclosed. He should have felt pure terror, but instead he felt exhilarated. He was higher than any Human had been on the tower since a helicopter had lowered the spire four decades ago.