We reached the outskirts of the City Proper two days later. To see the city drawing closer towards us made me giddy.
“Oh, Myth,” I said. “Won’t it be nice to stay at a tavern? We’ll be able to sleep in beds—proper beds, not just bedrolls lain upon the ground. And a hot bath! Oh! I am so tired of using chilly river water to wash. Plus, someone else will cook for a change. You’ll be able to take a night off. It’s a shame I’m so useless at cooking. I feel awful that you have to make all our meals.”
“Um, Izzy,” said Myth quietly as she fiddled with her ear. “I’m not sure staying at a tavern is a good idea.”
“Don’t worry, Myth. Every tavern in Dusk sets a small room aside for elves. Business is business, after all. I’m sure Narrows will be no different. We’ll have to use the tavern’s back door, though. That’s rotten, I know, but Tavern Keepers don’t like it when elves use the front door.”
“Well, okay,” said Myth slowly, “but renting a room costs quite a bit and I don’t have many coins. I cannot squander the few I have on a luxury.”
I dismissed her concern by waving my hand in her direction. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Auntie Julie gave me plenty of coins for my trip. I’ll treat you.”
“Please don’t,” said Myth timidly. “I don’t want you to waste your coins on me.”
Though Myth liked me, I was still a human and she was still an elf. Elves hated to receive handouts from humans. To an elf, accepting charity from a human meant you were indebted to that human. Going hungry was preferable to that.
I clicked my tongue, wondering why Myth had to be so difficult all the time. “Then think of it as payment for all the times you’ve cooked for me. Will that do?”
Myth stared at the ground and nodded. She sulked for a moment, clearly not thrilled by the loophole I had thought up.
“Good,” I said, beaming at her. “Let’s find a tavern. I want to stay in a bath for a good hour or two.”
We passed through the city gates. Myth slowed down and walked behind me. Looking back, I noticed that she had also hunched her shoulders and bowed her head. Once again, she was acting how an elf always acted when around humans.
Turning around and walking backwards, I asked her, “What are you doing?”
Gazing at her feet, Myth said, “We’re in a human city.”
“So?”
“I should pretend that I’m your servant while we’re here.”
I halted abruptly. So abruptly, in fact, that Myth collided with me.
“No. No. No,” I replied after I had regained my balance. “You’re my friend, not my servant. No arguing.”
“But, Miss Izzy—”
“And no Miss Izzy, either.”
Grabbing hold of her hand, I marched Myth through the City Proper. Myth looked terrified, as if she was expecting someone to order the filthy elf to unhand that poor, defenseless woman. Meanwhile, I walked on defiantly, daring anyone to call me a defenseless woman. Any poor fool who made that mistake would receive such a slapping.
Like the Holding in general, the City Proper in Narrows had gone to pot. Boarded up buildings lined its streets. Garbage littered its walks. Packs of mongrels roamed its back alleys. They waged a bloody war against hordes of rats for control of the rubbish heaps that speckled the City Proper. It was as if the citizens of Narrows had given up on life. Even hoping for a better future was too much of a bother for them.
Seeing the City Proper in such a state depressed me. What depressed me more, though, was that my desire for a soft bed and hot bath did not come about. You see, on the door of every tavern we passed hung a sign upon which was written:
NON-HUMANS NOT ALLOWED
This sign was paid for by the Bridge Corporation. The Bridge Corporation is dedicated to fulfilling all your pitchfork needs. And to protecting you and your jobs from foreigners.
After seeing such a sign on six taverns, I became frustrated.
“This isn’t right,” I said. “Tavern Keepers in Dusk mayn’t like elves and other non-humans, but they wouldn’t turn away business. What’s happened here?”
“So, these signs weren’t posted when you passed through here before, when you were traveling to Able?” said Myth.
I shook my head. “This is my first visit to Narrows. I took the northern route to Able, through the Holding Torn. But I wanted to see new places on my trip home, so I decided to take the road through Narrows and Bramble. I knew Narrows wasn’t a popular destination, but I never expected it to be this bad.”
“Look, Iz,” said Myth, “you stay at a tavern. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.”
The promise of a hot bath tempted me, but not even that pleasure could convince me to abandon Myth. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not going to stay at a tavern that won’t welcome a friend of mine.”
“Don’t be stubborn, Iz. There’s no need for us both to rough it. Stay at a tavern. We’ll meet up again in the morning.”
“No,” I replied. “And you’re being just as stubborn as I am, Missy. But this is as stubborn as you can be, whereas I’m just getting warmed up. So you may as well give in, because I’m not staying at a tavern that you’re not allowed to enter.”
“Okay. You win,” said Myth, smiling. “Let’s figure out where we can sleep. Do you have any ideas?”
“Hmm,” I uttered as I mulled over our problem. “What would you do if you were alone?”
“I’d go to the Elvenhome and talk with one of the Elders. They can usually locate a nice family who is willing to house a traveler for a few days. We took in travelers from time to time back in Dawn. Hearing tales about the Elvenhomes in other Holdings always fascinated me.”
“Would an elven family be willing to house me?”
Myth fiddled with her ponytail. “Well, yes, I suppose…” Myth fidgeted, loath to finish her sentence.
“There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?”
“Yeah,” said Myth. “Look, Iz, plenty of elven families would house you for the evening. But they wouldn’t make you feel welcome. Now, they wouldn’t be rude or hurt you. But they would ignore you. It’d be rather awkward for you. And they’d think that I’m a traitor.”
I huffed. “Why is everyone so stupid? 'You’re different from us, so we don’t like you.' Urgh! It’s so irritating.”
Myth rubbed her elbow and looked at the ground. She mumbled, “Elves have learned to act like that over several difficult centuries. Staying out of the way of humans and saying little to them has kept us alive.”
“It’s still aggravating.”
“Yeah,” said Myth as she kicked a pebble.
Huffing once again, I said, “Well, that settles it. It’s already dark. So enough talk, let’s just find somewhere to camp.”
We strolled along for another ten minutes or so. All of a sudden, we happened across a hullaballoo. Gathered in a town square was a mob of humans. Many of whom carried pitchforks. Others carried torches. A man standing upon a makeshift platform was riling up the crowd.
“I wonder what’s going on here,” I said as I walked towards the mob. “Let’s go and see, shall we?”
Myth halted. “You go,” she said as she backed into a shadow.
“What’s wrong?”
“Humans carrying pitchforks and elves don’t mix.”
“Fair point,” I said. “Okay. Stay out of sight. I’ll be right back.”
I made my way to the outer edge of the crowd. The man on the platform was giving them quite a show; his speech really resonated with that mob. When he said the word, “Foreigners,” the crowd hissed back, “Foreigners.” When he said, “Stealing our jobs,” the crowd roared, “They stole our jobs!”
The phrase, “raping our women,” caused a... um, healthy-looking woman—a really healthy-looking woman—to shriek hysterically. “Don’t let them foreigners touch me, Skeeter!” she screamed as she clung to the man standing beside her. The man, Skeeter presumably, said, “Don’ worry, Di Betty. Them foreigners ain’t gonna touch you while I’m aroun’.”
On and on it went. What I heard sickened me. The man on the platform was blaming all of Narrows’ woes on foreigners. But he never explained who these foreigners were or what they had done. The crowd did not care. They were foreigners, which meant they were non-humans. That was enough.
After ten minutes, I was too livid to continue listening to that drivel.
Tapping the man in front of me on his shoulder, I said, “Excuse me. Who is that man up there?”
“That’s Ronnie Bridge, of course,” he said. “He’s gonna make Narrows great again.”