By 6 a.m of the following morning, Claire was awake. Within thirty minutes, she was already on her boat, taking her first intentional trip to the world on the other side of the sea. She repeated the same pattern as the last time. Thirty minutes out on the sea before crossing.
Her boat landed near a small dock, the pearl at her neck pulsing faintly, as if guiding her journey. She slung her bag across her back, put the pepper spray canister in one pocket and gripped a cattle prod in her right hand.
Paddy padded beside her, ears twitching, nose low to the ground. Fear pressed against Claire’s chest, heavier than any she had known before.
"Maybe I should turn back," she muttered.
The pearl warmed up, sending a soothing warmth through her body. It seemed to be telling her that all would be okay. Claire took a deep breath and took a step forward.
The wind in this place was colder than the day before and it made her shiver. There was a foul stench in the air, like rotting sea food. Claire would have pinched her nose if not for the need to use all of her senses to maximize her safety.
She followed a single path that stretched forward, winding toward the looming castle. After walking for around twenty minutes, Claire started seeing some people. She looked at them curiously and they returned similar gazes at her.
These people looked like extras from a period film set but they were thin, haggard, dressed in simple linen and patched cloaks. Their faces were pale, their eyes hollow. Many of them looked like they were on the brink of starvation. Claire immediately determined that it was possible they were refugees. They glanced at her and Paddy with suspicion, some with curiosity, but none with warmth. Claire tightened her grip on the cattle prod.
Paddy whined softly, pressing against her leg as if to remind her that he was also present and if the need to run arose, she should not forget him.
"What kind of magical mount is that?" Someone asked.
"Can it be eaten? It’s too small to be a mount. " Another said.
"I have never seen anyone dressed like that." Another whisper came.
Claire looked around with eyes more alert than ever. These people were hungry, and the greed in their eyes could not be hidden. She had never experienced such hunger, but Claire knew starving people were dangerous. They could do anything to fill their empty stomachs.
The path she had followed split into two, and Claire came to a stop. The original path was guarded by people dressed like knights. Those people were riding on ferocious animals--not horses, but massive dogs with jaws like bear traps. The knight at the front was riding on a creature that looked like a lion crossed with a boar, tusks gleaming, mane bristling.
Paddy barked furiously, hackles raised, but Claire tugged him close. "Easy," she whispered, "We don’t want trouble. Neither you nor I can take those things on."
Her heart pounded and she did what most people on the street were doing: took the less guarded path. The castle seemed to be off limits for now. Claire decided to tick off the most urgent need of the moment: information.
She ignored all the adults until her eyes caught sight of a young child crouched near a wall, gnawing on what looked like a bun but was as hard as a rock. She walked to the wall and crouched, pulling a sandwich from her bag.
"Here," she said softly, offering it.
The child’s eyes widened, and he snatched it eagerly.
"I am a trader from out of town and new here. Can you tell me where I am?" Claire asked.
The boy chewed quickly, then spoke in a thin voice. "This is Driswen, sixth tier city of the Geryndral Empire. Is that your magic mount? Are you a mage?" He looked curiously at Paddy. "There are not many mages in the empire, and only a few bother coming to cities like this. Nobody really cares about sixth tier cities. Too poor."
"Sixth rank?" Claire repeated.
The boy nodded. "Cities are ranked. First rank is richest. Sixth tier...poorest. No one comes here unless they must. You must have taken the wrong road to end up here."
"Who rules this place?" Claire pressed, offering a bottle of milk that made the boy’s eyes widen in wonder.
He grabbed the bottle, hugging it like a rare treasure. The boy lowered his voice. "Prince Stellan Hakon. He is the unfavored son of King Eirik Hakon. They say his mother was an attendant of the King’s foot basin. He is not worthy to be a successor to the throne so he was given the sixth tier cities as fiefs and cast aside."
Claire absorbed the words. "An empire. A prince. Magic. She had truly stumbled into a fantasy world! Paddy licked the boy’s hand, earning a giggle and Claire felt more settled now that she had some information.
"Are those knights mages?" She asked.
The boy shook his head. "Not all of them, only their leader Vidar. Every prince or princess is entitled to the protection of at least nine mages. Prince Stellan was only given one mage and thirty magic mount knights."
"Are they dangerous?" She whispered.
The boy looked at her suspiciously. "If you want to start trouble, I don’t want to be part of it."
Claire quickly shook her head. "Oh no! I am a trader, like I told you. I just want to know if they will make it hard for me to do business here. Like stealing my goods and such problems."
The boy took a big sip of milk and burped. "No. Prince Stellan has spent two years trying to attract traders to this city but they don’t stick around because the people are too poor. Around here, traders are loved and welcomed more than mages. Especially those who sell food cheaply. If you want to do business, the knights will be your friends."
She thanked the boy and continued down the street. Stalls lined the road, selling seafood piled high in baskets--fish, crabs, strange shell creatures with purple glowing eyes. People bartered with gold coins or traded food. Some tried to sell their children. Hunger had driven these people to desperation.