Page 10 of A Song of Air
She always felt like opting to follow him often meant she was spitting on the graves of her family and their beliefs. Buttheirbeliefs had never beenherbeliefs, just like Arlo’s beliefs weren’t her own either.
She didn’tknowwhat to believe in anymore. So she killed to survive and helped Fae when she could, and then she came here to the little house built atop a tree to stare at a sky she could barely see.
Brood,her familiar said, a hint of teasing in her mental voice.
Bryson scoffed, swallowing the sound when the wind brought the crunch of footsteps towards her ears. She paused, listening to the noise and recognizing the owner of them right away.
I am going to hunt.Her familiar spread and flapped her wings, pushing a gust of wind against Bryson before she took off to the sky with a cry.
There was a curse as Malika climbed the rickety steps nailed to the tree, struggling to get to the top. That indicated that she was probably tipsy off the Fae wine the goblins brewed.
When she finally reached the top, she all but sprawled out next to Bryson.
“You breathe too loudly,” Bryson said, sitting up.
“You bitch,” she heaved. “If you’re going to be mean, I’ll take this wine back.”
Malika knew very well that Bryson didn’t really partake in drink, at least not so much that she would lose her footing and fall out of the damn tree. If she didn’t drink or dance, it was out of self-preservation. That, and she didn’t want to look like a fool.
“Here, just one glass won’t hurt.” Malika shoved it into her hands, and Bryson had to grasp it with her fingers, though the liquid sloshed over the rim and stuck to her skin. “Lighten up.” She clinked her glass against Bryson’s and her voice softened. “We did good today.”
There seemed to be centuries worth of sadness packed into those words. It was only because of that that Bryson brought the cup to her lips and took a sip.
Silence enveloped them. Bryson could say with certainty that Malika was her best friend in the world. They were open and honest with each other, yet there was still an air of mystery surrounding the other Fae that always made Bryson curious. She never asked, though, and Malika never offered the story of her past. It was like their lives had begun when they met in that camp. Anything that had happened before didn’t exist.
Though Bryson didn’t doubt that there was an incredibly sad story to be told. Malika had mentioned a sister once. A single time. It had been in passing, almost as if she’d forgotten their sacred understanding not to mention the past. Malika hadn’t brought it up since then.
They sat in companionable silence, staring out into the dim night that contrasted against even darker shapes. Nighttime made it that much harder to see, but it was a peaceful moment between them regardless, both of them sipping their Fae wine. The fruity drink fizzled against Bryson’s tongue, and she felt the effects immediately.
“Your boyfriend is looking for you, you know.”
Bryson’s brows kicked up in amusement. “I’m sure he is.”
It wasn’t like her hiding place was some big secret. If he was looking, he should know exactly where she would be. Just like she knew exactly wherehewould be; deep in cup after cup of Fae wine, heavy in celebration with the others.
At least until he finally found his footing enough to wander to where she lay to see if she was okay.
As if on cue, footsteps sounded in the distance, heading in their direction.
“Well...” Malika took a loud swallow of her wine. “Looks like he finally found you.” There was a smile in her voice that Bryson didn’t dare turn to meet.
From the ground, feet stepped up the little ladder until Everett finally reached the top. His heart was pounding, his every breath laced with exhaustion and the scent of wine. His dark hair was wind-kissed, his white smile wide.
“And I’m out.” There was the clinking of glasses as Malika gathered her things. Meanwhile, Bryson could only squint in Ev’s direction. “Have fun... You probably can’t see this, Bryce, it being so dark and all, but I’m winking at you.”
Bryson let out a laugh. If there was one thing she loved about Malika, it wasthatright there. The fact that she never put such a weight on her poor vision. Because it wasn’t as big a deal as others made it to be. At the end of the day, it was something she would always have to live with, and it was irritating when others felt sorry for her.
Like Arlo and all the new Fae they saved.
As soon as Malika touched the ground, she jogged away, leaving Bryson and Ev alone together. Once they were, he took a seat at her side. She felt the warmth of his body seep into hers, and his scent enveloped her. Daffodils and wine. There were also touches of earth and smoke, hinting at his general activities of dancing near the fire.
His fingers moved, grazing the hand that held tightly to her goblet before he pulled it from her grasp. She heard him swallow the rest of the contents, knowing she wasn’t going to finish it anyway, before he tossed the cup to the side. She heard it roll across the wood then stop just before it slid off the tree.
There was a beat of silence. “Are you okay, Bryce?” he asked, the concern in his voice genuine; it pressed to her chest.
She sighed, unsure of what to say or how to say it. Her friends knew how hard days like today were for her. She never had to explain why, and they didn’t have to ask. Even if they did, she wasn’t sure she could really give them a concrete answer. Her mind was a befuddled mess of emotions that were hard to sift through.
“I’m fine.” The words didn’t feel like the complete truth, though they didn’t feel like a lie either. She was fine, even with the burning sensation in her chest harrying down on her. Sometimes, she felt like all she had left in the world was rage and absolutely nothing to do with it.
