Page 75 of Frost Like Night
Nessa’s eyes flick around the dancers. Her lips curve into a sly grin, but when I spin to find what she’s looking at, I see only more dancing bodies, nothing unusual.
“What is it?” I shout over the music.
She hooks her arm through Conall’s and shoves me away. “He’s my partner—you have to find your own.”
The force of her shove sends me flailing into another body. I barely register Nessa’s giggling before I notice the midnight-blue tunic under my hands, the chest heaving up and down, the arms on my elbows. Mather.
Heat flushes up my neck.
The music breaks, the drums beating with such ferocity that they’re practically begging us to dance.
I press myself against Mather and imitate the waving, stomping chaos of the crowd. He seems stunned at first, but it doesn’t take him long to fall into it too.
His body curves around me, his eyes just as bright as the bonfire. I’ve never been this close to him for this long, in a way that makes me breathless with more than exertion. His head angles down, our limbs keeping time to the beat even as our faces stay just shy of touching.
The music slows, quickens again, building in intensity. Each time it breaks, the crowd cheers, movements flailing ever more strongly. But the longer the song continues, the less I hear. The noises of the celebration lull, the sights and colors and smells ebb away, until there’s only Mather, his body against mine, his breath tangling with my every exhale.
I always knew he was beautiful. But the way he moves, just as exuberant as Nessa, just as confident as Ceridwen—he’s not just beautiful. He’s . . . mine.
I stop as the song ends. Another picks up, not nearly as fast as the last one. Mather hesitates, panting, his joy easing into a heavy stare when I don’t start dancing again.
One breath, just one, and he backs up a step. An invitation, an unspoken signal.
He weaves through the dancing crowd. When he reachesthe edge of the clearing, he stops, his sapphire eyes never leaving mine.
Mather’s lips hover somewhere close to smiling and he plunges out toward the forest.
The magic in me tangles around my nerves until I’m walking. Slow steps, the drums thumping beats into me, the dark of the evening swallowing the firelight and the lanterns of the celebration.
I duck away from the dancers and follow Mather into the night.
21
Mather
EVERYTHING WAS SOclear here.
From where Mather perched on one of the lower ridges of the foothills that bordered Autumn, he could see the camp in its entirety. The moon had just become visible, its pale light spilling over the trees, the tents, and the clearing where the revelers still danced. The faint pounding of drums lit the air, the distance and encompassing night giving the illusion that this camp was all that existed. Not the shadow of evil that waited to devour them, not the jagged peaks of the Klaryns behind Mather, the mountains that would swallow them up in a few days.
The look on Meira’s face today had all but ripped him apart. The way she had grabbed the image of Ceridwen and Jesse’s happiness like a beggar scrambling to hoard a few last pieces of nourishment. Her brows pinched, her hands slack, those crystalline eyes showing how much she wantedexactly what Ceridwen and Jesse had.
And how much she knew she wasn’t destined to have that.
That was what scared Mather most—her look of regret. Like she knew that despite her burning need to have that happiness, she never would, and she had accepted this sacrifice in return for whatever she had planned.
Mather dug his fingers into the earth. His legs dangled over the ledge and he closed his eyes, hunching down.
Leaves crunched behind him, and when he turned, the need in his stomach thrashed at the sight of her.
Meira stood at the entrance to the path that led up here, her fingers looped around a low-hanging tree branch next to a sheer wall of rock that shot up to the next ridge. She wore a traditional Autumnian outfit, but that didn’t stop Mather from wondering if someone had designed it with the sole purpose of driving him insane. Light blue fabric cut around her body, leaving her stomach bare, skin gleaming in the delicate moonlight. A longer strand of fabric hung limp from her elbows and when she stepped forward, she let it drop to the ground, revealing her arms, her shoulders, in a way that made Mather’s chest ache.
He flipped his attention back to the camp. Ice, something as simple asskinshouldn’t send him into such a pathetic flurry. But when she sat beside him, her skirt catching around her legs, Mather didn’t dare speak for fear of what might slip out of his mouth. He had a feeling itwould be something inappropriate, likeThat dance tonight will drive me crazy for monthsorWe should keep dancing. Up here, on this ridge, with no one else to see.
After a long pause, Meira turned to the forest below.
“Are you ready for the trip?” she asked, her voice as fragile as the leaves under them.
He shifted to face her. “Are you? Jannuari, then the Tadil. Should be easy enough, after everything else we’ve done.” He paused, daring, pleading. “Right?”
