Page 88 of Synodic

“Is that you asking me to dance?” I asked sarcastically, already knowing his answer.

“Not tonight.”

“What were you going to say?”

“I’ll tell you after.” His words told me to go, but his eyes pleaded with me to stay.

With no preamble or warning, hands grabbed my waist from behind and wrenched me away from Rowen. I was whirled around into the strong embrace of Demil, who threw us into the circle of dancing bodies.

“Bold of you,” I said to him. “I was in the middle of a conversation.” Even though I knew once Rowen made up his mind he stuck to it. Whatever else he wanted to say, he would tell me later.

“You look much too beautiful not to be shown off tonight,” he smiled arrogantly, the lights of Celenova reflecting in all new ways against his cool skin, and I gave in to his charm.

We picked up speed in our dancing as he led and spun me effortlessly through the tangle of dancers. Our feet kicked up sand as we jumped and skipped to the beat, laughing and shouting as we went. Demil knew what he was doing on the dance floor. His grasp on me was firm yet pliable, making it easy to steer and direct me through the crowd.

I let my head fall back to stare at the swirling iridescent sky, and knowing Demil wouldn’t let me fall, I lost myself in the spinning lights.

The song came to an end, offering a small respite, and I flicked off my shoes, feeling the sand between my toes.

I glanced around the celebration, searching for other familiar faces, when my sights landed on Ven, dressed in his best yet still somehow looking a ragamuffin. He was leaping around his majestic white wolf, who jumped playfully at the light, trying to catch it between her gleaning incisors.

My gaze continued to roam until it fell on Xala and Pia enjoying a refreshing beverage as they laughed and talked with a large group of men. Their eyes caught mine, and feeling drunk on the night, I slightly lifted my dress and curtseyed. They laughed from across the way, receiving my message of gratitude.

They both had changed into long flowing dresses of mint julep and blue clay. Pia’s hair was tied up in elegant knots, whereas Xala’s flowed like silk straight to her hips. They were stunning, and the eyes of the men around them glistened with desire for the next dance.

Before I could make my way to mingle with my newfound friends, Demil yanked me back into the cacophony of dancing.

In this dance, the partners were passed off down the line, and I found myself dancing with half the village. Meeting new faces while putting names to familiar ones.

Through the whirling bodies, I could make out Quiya and Nyvari, the sisters who had taken me under their wing and taught me so much about the Wyn people. They had their fingers laced through one another’s, their arms flowing between them like two flower children at a festival.

I even saw the members of the Summit enjoying themselves. Driskell and Alvar raised their goblets to me in a silent toast of gratitude, and I danced briefly with Takoda before I wound up back in Demil’s arms.

The lights were only now beginning to taper off slowly, and I was perfectly happy, exhausted, and content in the moment.

The only thing that could make Celenova even better would be one dance with Rowen. I would have to find him soon and convince him that spinning me around was in his best interest. He couldn’t brood forever. His feelings had to extend to more than a guardian role. He just hadn’t admitted it to himself yet.

I smiled at the thought of dancing with Rowen, of spinning in his arms, but I was suddenly pulled out of the joy of the moment when a blood-curdling scream sliced through the night like a hot wire.

32

The celebration came to a screeching halt, and it took my mind a moment to comprehend the horrific scene unfolding before me. The enchanting village I had come to know and love with every broken yet healing piece of myself, was caught in a brilliant blaze of red and orange chaos.

My home was on fire.

The breathless beat between laughter and terror was nearly seamless yet wholly nightmarish. Mass hysteria erupted around me in screaming wails and shoving bodies. People desperately searched for their loved ones amidst the rapidly growing flames.

Demil grabbed me by the shoulders, jerking my frozen stare of disbelief toward his enraged face. “Stay here, on the shore, and don’t move,” he demanded, then released his bruising grip on me. He disappeared into the sea of panicked bodies with only a backward glance.

Was he crazy? I couldn’t stay here and do nothing; with the number of times I’d been stomped on and shoulder-checked, I ran the risk of falling and being trampled.

Moving with, rather than against the barrier of pushing bodies, I searched for Rowen, hoping to catch a glimpse of him in the unfurling mayhem. Several villagers were throwing baskets of water onto the fire, trying to quell the raging crimson beast from destroying their homes and livelihoods.

It was a paltry method for how massive the flames had become, especially for such a skilled and sophisticated village. They were unprepared and ill-equipped for this; they must have never had to deal with a fire of this magnitude.

Despite the turmoil, some semblance of order began forming as children were shepherded away from the fire. Men and women who weren’t fighting the flames gathered and stacked baskets of dried food, herbs, and medicine just on the outskirts of the village.

Several crates of precious commodities had already been reduced to char and dust. When the flames finally decided to settle, what would be left?

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