Page 50 of Heavenly Bodies

‘I was— weren’t we dancing?’

He gave her a strange look. ‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘After you drank the ambrosia, you went into this…trance. You haven’t moved since.’

She blinked, the images in her head dissipating. ‘I might have had too much wine.’

She walked precariously back to her group, bending to Merissa. ‘I think I’m going to go back to the palace.’ She sighed, a feeling weighing on her shoulders like a heavy shawl.

‘Let me walk you back.’

‘No, no, please. I’d rather go alone. I need some fresh air.’

Leo made to follow her, but she put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I chose to stay,’ she promised. ‘You don’t need to worry about me running off again.’

Leo pressed a kiss to her hand, and Isra hugged her once more. ‘I hope to see you soon, Elara.’

She smiled. ‘Me too.’

She searched for Enzo, but he was nowhere to be found, so with a shrug, she left.

She shuffled quietly back up the hidden path around the palace, the sound of her footsteps calming her and lifting whatever dark oppression had fallen over her. She was not ready for bed and found herself wandering the outskirts of the palace, to the maze that Kalinda had helped create. The breeze cooled her, the late evening hues dimming to a shade that reminded her of home. She felt a pang and thought of her parents, Sofia, her home—the life she had left behind.

The Light hung low, casting romantic shadows on all it touched. Statues of lovers embraced and lightlilacs stood proudly with open petals, their fragrance filling the summer-kissed wind. She heard the trickle of water, its sound soothing her. She followed it through the dense hedges of the maze. Glitterbugs and indigo crickets seemed to sigh, their thrumming agitation keeping her company. Her fingers trailed the soft waxen leaves of the hedge as she lost herself in the peace of the Helion night.

Eventually, she reached a small clearing at the centre of the maze, where she found an ornate fountain with two statues at its centre that stretched ten feet above her: a mermaid, in the arms of a pirate. His hands cradled her head as they looked at each other, lips parted, pleasure carved into the mermaid’s face so the marble almost seemed alive.

Elara drifted around the fountain, taking it in, the sheets of blue and lavender water that cascaded from the shellsadorning the mermaid’s hair, the eyepatch across the handsome pirate’s face. She dipped her hands in the base of the fountain, splashing her heated face, then settled herself on a bench that overlooked it. She sighed and looked to the sky. The stars twinkled back.

Always watching, she thought, throwing them a venomous glance. The strange vision had shaken her. That and Enzo’s confession had thrown her off balance, new truths being revealed to her at every turn. The tumult of her thoughts were interrupted by a rustle. She looked around wildly. Then she laughed as Enzo stumbled through the clearing, stilling when he saw her.

‘I was hoping you’d be here,’ he said, his eyes still hazy with drink.

‘Did you follow me?’ Her heartbeat accelerated as he sat beside her on the bench, looking up at the cascading fountain.

‘Yes,’ he replied simply.

‘I can see you found a shirt,’ she said, glancing at the one slung over his shoulder, damp and clinging. ‘Are you feeling quite well?’

He snorted, pushing a fallen wet lock from his face. ‘This is my favourite part of the palace,’ he said, gesturing to the secluded space.

‘The fountain is so beautiful.’ Elara admired it once more. ‘What the artist captured…is the kind of love soulmates would have.’

Enzo made an amused sound, and Elara flicked him a wary look. ‘Let me guess, you don’t believe in soul-ties.’

Enzo sighed. ‘No, I believe that they once existed. “The Ballad of the Mermaid and the Pirate” is one of my favourite tales. But that kind of magick doesn’t exist any more.’

‘I know,’ Elara replied softly. ‘Though sometimes, whenI looked upon my parents, I thought they might have been soulmates. It was as though they shared a soul, just like in the ballad. And I—’ She swallowed. ‘I’m almost relieved that they died together. I don’t think one would have carried on living without the other anyway.’

Enzo was silent. ‘Anyway,’ she said hurriedly, ‘the statue. Whoever carved it knew love. And knew it deeply, to produce such art.’

He looked at the statue briefly, then turned back to her. ‘Or maybe they didn’t know it at all, but craved it the way one craves air to breathe.’

She turned to him. ‘I didn’t pin you for a poet. The ambrosia must bring it out of you.’

He chuckled. ‘Is it strange that I missed how you constantly irritate me?’

She smiled to herself. ‘You must have had too much to drink if you’re claiming you missed me.’

‘I did miss you.’

---