Lanar’s silent presence was starting to become oppressive, now that the Tinker’s kindly energy was no longer a distraction. The man followed slightly behind them, arms folded behind his back, and every time Varten turned to glance at him, he wore a dark expression—somewhere between ponderous and irritated.
He’d come for the Rumpus, same as they had, and he didn’t owe them any explanations. But Varten wondered all the samewhat his goals were and why his censure had hurt so very much the day before.
Zeli was unusually chipper as they crossed the street, moving in the direction of the thickening crowd. Though she’d spent hours talking the evening before, she remarked on the city, the buildings, the weather, and the vehicles as they drew nearer their destination.
A great horn sounded and the excitement around them grew palpable. People picked up the pace and soon they were surging forward like a wave on the sea, carried along by the rest.
The horn blew again and the chatter rose to a deafening level. Zeli looked at him and something inside him awoke with excitement. It sounded like the Rumpus was about to begin.
Varten had expected decorations—streamers or balloons or flags flying for the celebration. But the large square at the heart of Gilmer City, packed to the stuffings with people, wasn’t adorned in any way. The staccato blasts of moments ago were now quiet and the gathered celebrants contracted, moving closer and closer together, shifting with anticipation. Soon a pregnant hush dropped over them.
Varten wasn’t sure which way to look. Zeli was on his left, her hand clutching his shirt so they wouldn’t be separated. She was at least two heads shorter than him and definitely couldn’t see anything all the way down there. Even at his height, he could barely tell what, if anything, was going on, but he noticed some people riding on the shoulders of others for a better view.
“Get on my shoulders,” he said, “maybe you can see what’s happening.”
She looked shocked at first and then peered down to her dress, but finally nodded. Varten knelt and helped situate her. Her skirt was wide enough to accommodate the position without being immodest. When he rose, now supporting her slight weight, she towered over the crowd.
“There’s a platform, down at the end,” she said. “And people are gathering. They’re wearing… masks and costumes. I think they’re dressed as animals.”
Varten looked around him; others in the crowd were straining to see. Many smarter people had entered the buildings surrounding the square and were hanging out of windows or on rooftops. All appeared to be dressed normally, there weren’t any strange costumes on display in the audience at least.
“They’re doing some kind of pantomime,” Zeli continued. “Some are dressed as hunters with bows and arrows. And then there’s… Well, I’m not sure. A woman dressed in gold…” She trailed off.
Shouts and laughter rang out. People had climbed on top of trash cans and scaled lighting poles to see the antics on the stage. Those with a good view of the proceedings cheered and applauded. On the top of a nearby roof, Varten’s roaming gaze was caught by a still figure among all the motion. A young boy of Zeli’s complexion with a cloud of unruly hair stood there. Instead of facing the stage, he was looking down at the audience. From this distance, Varten couldn’t tell what the child was staring at so intently.
Zeli wobbled and he held her legs tighter. “Sorry,” she said, laughing. “The bear has caught the woman in gold and now one of the hunters looks like he’s trying to negotiate with it. They’re doing a sort of dance, he keeps tripping and falling.”
The crowd erupted in laughter again. When Varten looked up, the boy on the roof was gone.
The play lasted a few more minutes. The woman in gold turned out to be a bride who married one of the hunters. The animals removed their masks and revealed themselves to be kings or gods or something, Zeli wasn’t sure, but the others knelt before them. When it was over, the horn sounded again, and a man began speaking through an intercom system blasting over the square.
They could not understand him as he spoke in Yalyish, but the excitement of the crowd grew and grew. Soon everyone was cheering and shouting and they were pushed forward again, moving to some unknown destination.
Varten helped Zeli back to the ground and held her hand as the packed people surged. “Let’s try and get off to the side,” he shouted. She nodded and they pushed their way to the sidewalk to pause in front of a row of buildings. They’d lost Lanar in the press at some point.
“I think that must have been the opening ceremony for the celebration,” she said, breathless after the exertion of negotiating the mob.
Music began and the celebrants started dancing. People, who before had been dressed in trousers and shirts or simple dresses, produced multicolored scarves and capes and wrapped themselves in them, transforming the already rowdy crowd into a writhing riot of colors. Varten and Zeli pressed themselves into the doorway of a bright blue building, watching the audience turn into a party.
“Which one are you here for: the Bride Hunt, the Game Hunt, or the Quest?” a voice said from behind them in Elsiran.
They spun around to find the building’s door open, and standinginside was the boy Varten had noticed on the roof. He was all of eleven and wore a heavy woolen sweater and thick trousers a few sizes too big. He was a little disheveled, but in the way of children who aren’t fussed over too much.
“I-I don’t think we know what those are,” Varten answered.
The boy stepped forward, looking eager to explain things. “The Rumpus has three kinds of participants—four if you count the spectators, but I don’t. Some are here to find a husband or wife. They wear yellow or goldhunasand join the Bride Hunt.”
Zeli leaned forward. “Huna,I do not know this word.”
He grinned and made a flipping motion with his hand. “Those are the scarves and capes—they’re made specially for the Rumpus and each color has a meaning.”
Varten looked back at the passing crowd. There was quite a lot of yellow and gold on display.
“The Game Hunt started as a true hunt for boar and wolves and bears in the countryside,” the boy continued, “but the Rumpus grew too big, and the animals too few, so now it’s a scavenger hunt.”
At Zeli’s confused expression, Varten translated. The boy watched them carefully, tilting his head at the sound of Lagrimari. He held himself very still. Varten was used to seeing children always in motion—but maybe this stillness was a result of city life.
“What about the Quest?” Zeli asked.
