Page 45 of Of Flame and Fury

Coup laughed and waved at the child. As the man led her away, Coup turned to Kel. All warmth drained from his face. “We’re meant to convince people we’re on adate, Varra. Would it kill you to look happy?”

Kel ran a hand through her hair. Embarrassment and frustration warred, tightening her throat. “We’re convincing thecameraswe’re on a date.”

Coup thrust a thumb backward. “She had one. You don’t think her pictures will get around Cendor?”

“She’s akid. Not a reporter.”

Coup shrugged. “Cameras are cameras. Don’t trust any of them.”

Kel sucked on her lower teeth, biting back a response. They’d barely spentfive minutesin the park. She refused to let him under her skin so soon.

Even worse, he was right. She needed to get over any stage fright, even when brought on by children. But until they’d joinedforces with the Coupers, the Howlers hadn’t had to navigate this kind of attention.

They meandered further into the park, down a cobblestone path bordered by trees and shimmering glass columns. Certain colors swarmed together, shades of green clustering together in buzzing clouds.

She shoved her hands inside the pockets of her coat, unsure how close was too close or not close enough to stand beside Coup. It felt strange, walking beside him in the real world, beyond Cristo’s confines.

They wandered deeper into the park, passing a slanted souvenir booth. Stuffed toys, wooden trinkets and framed sketches hung behind the wooden counter. The trinkets and paintings made Kel’s stomach flip. She couldn’t count how many nights she’d spent curled up in her aviary’s office, the sketch pad and leather carving kit from her father keeping her company when Dira couldn’t. Kel had once dreamed of owning a phoenix sanctuary self-sufficient enough that she could moonlight as a tattoo artist, drawing and needling her designs onto living canvases. Tattooists were popular across Cendor; living with phoenixes meant that plenty of Cendorians bore burns and scars, and the marks were often flaunted, decorated with tattoos and flourishes. Did working with Cristo—earning his money—make that dream more or less likely?

Kel felt more stares at their backs, more camera flashes. Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. She imagined slipping and stuttering around the wrong words when the reporters cornered them. What if they asked her again about her father? Or Oska? Her knees wobbled, and a sharp pang of guilt tinged with homesickness swept through her.

“Stoplookingfor reporters,” Coup hissed. “My brother knowswhat he’s doing. They’ll be here, if they’re not already. They’re just waiting for something worth photographing.”

Kel fought the urge to hunch forward, to shrink beneath her layers. “Right.”

“We’re meant to look like we’re on a date. Not like we’re in pain.” Coup cursed under his breath. “I know smiling for the cameras isbeneatha mighty Varra, but—”

“It’s not that.” Kel shook her head. “I just… I don’t know how to do it. Not like you. I see a camera and I just…” Kel shuddered. “I start overthinking every breath, every gesture. It feels like they’re poking at me with needles.”

“Oh.” Coup’s eyes searched her, something unnameable in his expression. “Well, you’re the expert in the aviary, tamer. Out here, let me show you how it’s done.”

Kel swallowed a lump as the ground turned from cobblestone to sand. There was a question in his gaze as he awaited her answer. Eventually, she sighed. “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Coup smiled wolfishly as they navigated the soft, corn-yellow sand. A few more wanderers turned their way, more cameras flashing.

He held out a crooked arm. Reluctantly, Kel looped her hand through and allowed him to guide their path. His hip bumped against hers, too warm. Too close.

Kel squeezed Coup’s jacket sleeve. In response, several cameras clicked. Her head instinctively whipped around, fast enough that she felt a crick form in her neck.

Coup laughed, a loud, startingly warm sound. He tugged her down a narrow lane. “Let’s find a better distraction.”

The sandy lane opened up into a clearing, and the air grewmuggier, reminding Kel of an aviary’s heated lamps. As they walked, the ground turned to glass, and beneath it Kel could see a maze of dirt tunnels.

“Alchemists,” Kel breathed, as the most dazzling creature slithered about. The serpent was covered in emerald-and-cinnamon scales that crisscrossed like diamonds, with two little jade horns sitting above its narrow eyes.

Dresvan serpents.Here—in Cendor. Sprites were sunny, harmless little insects, but serpents? Dira had told Kel that they were poisonous, intelligent creatures that usually kept to dense forestry. Their venom held magical properties. It was so strange to see one gliding through a glass cage in Vohre.

Though the serpents’ crystalline skin was almost hypnotizing, as they shifted off the glass, Kel’s attention once more stuck to her hand around Coup’s solid arm. She didn’t know why she couldn’t relax her hand. Why couldn’t she focus on anything but the feel of him pressed against her side?

Kel spotted a violently red overhead sign, signaling a nearby aviary, just as two figures carrying bulky equipment ambled toward them. The pair—a man clutching a voice-comm and a woman holding a large camera—waved at Kel.

“What a surprise, seeing a pair of rising celebrities here!” the man sang.

He gestured to the red-haired woman hovering a step behind him. “We were just filming coverage of the sanctuary. Any chance we could steal you two for a quick interview?”

A prickling heat spread across Kel’s neck. Feebly, she said, “How can I say no?”

Coup coughed, poorly concealing a chuckle. He grinned at thesuited reporter and camerawoman. “Of course! But it can’t take long—we’re excited to look around.”

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