Page 78 of Shadows and Flames
“You don’t sound so sure.”
He swallowed, knot in his throat bobbing. “No. Bloody strong, though.”
We steered even clearer of the Folk, ignoring all offers to come inside because wejustneeded to see the wondrous jewels mined in their very own mountains, or the music that seemed to draw Fenix’s feet without his leave. The first time it happened, his drifting toward the sound of lutes and lilting voices coming from a tavern sporting pillar-like branches around the entrance, I’d assumed it was incoordination on his part. Not everyone was trained to become masters of their own body, I knew this, but the third and fourth times it happened, I suspected it was outside of his control.
If this was how he responded to this place, these people, did Blackwood stand a fucking chance of gaining the upper hand in a negotiation? How had our former mark accomplished such a lucrative arrangement?
As I steered the Vyrkos away from yet another musical invitation to imbibe and dance, having to go so far as clamp myhands around his shoulders and push him to follow the queen and witch, for some reason, I thought of the lad back at the Well.
We’d sent a letter to inform him and Nor about where we were going—as if they would be any help in a place like this with the only entrance being a random fucking tree trunk in a forest—after his last was filled with his typical cheery anecdotes. The one addressed to me asked some terribly naïve questions about how to get in someone’s good graces, and because I couldn’t have him embarrassing himself or me, I’d spent nearly an hour in the Vharan pharmacy drafting a response.
“Oi, when is that summer ritual?”
The witch had already been eyeing me and the Vyrkos, question in her stare that we mutually decided to leave unanswered with all of these fuckers with pointed ears in hearing range. Butmyquestion had her perking up. She gestured to the pack slung across her front and bumping against her hip by jostling the strap. “It’s technically today. I was hoping we could find somewhere suitable to burn these, but if we don’t, we can use one of the hearths back at the lodging home?”
She looked to Elián then shook herself, refocusing ahead as we meandered the dark streets. There were some grassy areas, somehow built into godyx-damned tree branches, even recreational areas lined with wooden benches and floating lanterns to light the way.
No idea how the fuckers didn’t fly into them, seeing as they barely watched where they were going as it was. More than a few times, a Folk person with wings clipped one of our shoulders or sprinkled some sort of dust over our heads as they flew above.
We walked the length of the city, save for the palace grounds which were heavily guarded, and returned to the lodging house with our pouches of protection still unburned and sealed in Tana’s pack. I’d not done the ritual before, obviously, but it seemed a terribly intimate thing. To so blatantly ask the Motherand Her children to protect those you cared for. In front of an audience of Folk, who I was fairly certain wanted to consume Fenix, did not seem the best choice for such a thing, and the witch had agreed.
So, we were back in her room, where the waterfalls that I now knew glowed in faint blues and greens, lit the room. Until, after peering at one of the small orbs hanging beside her bed, the witch caressed it with the curious tip of a finger.
The lantern released a soft, yellow light, casting our faces in a strange mix of shadows and sending sharp cuts of technicolor where it collided with the mist from the waterfall.
My brother went to the hearth, inspecting it with narrowed focus, and released a drop of flame. I’d watched my brother ignite countless fires over our lives. Some necessary, some for fun to see how things would burn, and some to expel the emotions he was experiencing. Those would grow particularly hot, turning white or even blue.
During the years after Roza’s death, he and Leandro would disappear into the forest together, returning with the smell of flames choking all who brushed past them. And I followed the twins, once, when they went far, far away from the Well, released their fire on boulders, andscreamed.
Now, my brother was cut off from his goddess, Zoko who supplied the endless fuel, and when he stood, I tried my best to communicate understanding. Without the ever-changing color in his irises, the Fire that lived inside of him, he was… sunken. Underwater.
“Right, so here are all your pouches.” Tana spread them out on the bed, remembering somehow whose was whose when we hadn’t labeled them at all. I’d made two, while we were biding our time on the Morovan ship, and she grouped them together nearest the corner of the tightly made bed.
Meline snatched up her two, and my brother took his. Leaving the witch with two as well, but she didn’t take them both. Instead, she offered one to Fenix, grinning from ear to ear. “Here, you can use this one.”
He began to reach for it, hesitated, then stuffed his hands in his pockets once more. “Nah, I don’t even know what…” He shook his head. “It’s fine.”
But Tana was undeterred. I slumped into one of the white, ornate chairs in the room, already seeing where this was going. Meline and Elián took the other seats, staring at each other with longing and fear and love, and whatever else newly reconnected lovers did. She caressed him, ran her fingers through his hair, and he… let her do it. Opened up for her, showing so vividly the emotions he typically locked down. I could only see the edges, while his attention was on her, but even that was more than I’d seen from him through most of our lives. It was burn rocks, drink, or retreat with him. Without fail.
Now, he let himself be kissed with a care that made my throat tighten. Bloody wood in here was burning with more of that godyx-awful perfume.
“So, where are you from, Fenix?” Tana asked companionably while guiding him through the sprigs and herbs to choose from.
He was perched on the edge of the bed, as if he couldn’t bear to be closer to her but also couldn’t fathom not taking that inch. “Um, Vharas, actually. That’s why I was, uh, on the ship. With you all.”
Tana hummed, holding flat her palm for Fenix to give her the leaf and flowers he selected. She met the small instant of skin contact with a genial, reassuring smile, and started talking him through tying the sachet. Her attention was on the twine and the cotton, but I saw the way he melted.
Stubborn, wanting nothing less but needing nothing more.
He hung on every sunny word from her mouth, fumbled his way through tying off the pouch himself, and when she instructed him to think of someone he wanted to speak protection over, I would bet my immortal life savings on who he picked.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Fenix,” Tana said absently, and it took everything in me not to groan. Instead, I silently slapped my forehead and looked to my brother and his lover. Those brows were raised, while his queen was doing the opposite.
The Vyrkos stammered, so entranced by the witch and her words that he didn’t take in our blatant eavesdropping. “Uh-um, thank you.” And the bastard evenblushed. Lad was going to embarrass himself with this witch who saw him as a patient of hers and nothing more.
“How many years are you?”
My sardonic question unraveled whatever spell she was unwittingly putting him under, and his hair swung as he swiveled to me. He clenched the pouch in his fist but not tight enough to crush what was inside. “Thirty years. What’s it matter?” The room swelled with silence, even the fire ceased crackling.
