Tanith Lee - Claidi Journals 01 (21 page)

Argul took my hand and shook it up and down. His armlets jangled, and for some reason we both grinned.

“Ring not too painful?” he asked.

I said, truthfully, “It feels like its part of my hand.”

And just then, dull thunder, a roar. I nearly screamed.

“Oh God. Argul—
Argul
—the city—it’s exploded—it’s on fire!” We stared. And above, the night changed color: silver, scarlet, amber, violet, gold, and white.

It was Mehmed who said, explaining, pleased, “No, Claidi. It must be a celebration. They’re letting off about two thousand fireworks.”