Page 124 of A Song of Air
Where was Weylyn?
Why had he left her?
A void swallowed her up and she felt truly disregarded. Like there was no one there and never would be. He’d abandoned her and they were going to swallow her alive. There was nothing she could do about it. Nothing. Nothing. Nothingnothingnothingnothingnothing—
“Leave her alone Gwyn, Glyn.” A voice cut through the haze of her panic, causing the twins to stiffen around her. A moment later they released her and took a step away.
“Aw, you’re no fun, Cassimir.”
“Yeah, no fun.”
“Go pull the wings off pixies. It is my turn to dance with our new sister.”
The twins hissed and scrambled away, but not before they cursed in Bryson’s direction. “She is no sister of ours,” they spat in unison and then disappeared into the crowd.
With them gone, Bryson could breathe. Though her body still felt lethargic, she felt less clustered. Less suffocated. Now, she only felt dizzy and drunk.
But that wasn’t right, was it? she thought. She hadn’t had a drink all night. Why did she feel like she’d imbibed in way too much Fae wine?
Cassimir gripped her, pulling her back to the present. He held her close, but his touch wasn’t painful like Rainer’s had been, and it wasn’t roaming like the twins’ had been. His touch was careful. Not respectful exactly, but he didn’t frighten her as much as the others did. Maybe he was better at tempering the wild nature the others so freely let loose.
Still, Bryson couldn’t bring herself to relax at all.
“I would apologize for my siblings’ behavior, but I fear it would not be accepted regardless.” He twirled her, pressing her close. Her feet nearly stumbled, and she grasped at his hand for support.
“You’re right.” Bryson’s words came out slightly slurred. “I wouldn’t accept it.”
“Hmm.”
The music reverberated, drowning out everything else for a brief moment. In that moment, she lost herself in the sensation of the music of the wildlands. It was free, consuming, almost as consuming as the powder invading her system.
“Why do you all hate Weylyn so much?” Bryson found herself asking.
She shouldn’t engage in conversation with him. She knew that, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. The curiosity had been killing her since they arrived, and Weylyn’s answers were evasive at best. Not that she thought he would tell her the truth. Not that she thought she could trust anything he said anyway. But her tongue was thick and loose, and her head was spinning, her thoughts as cloudy as her vision.
“He has not told you?” He whirled her again, his hand warmed against her lower back.
Bryson didn’t reply.
“Hmm, I suppose he would not. He would twist the truth if he did. He would make you believe that which did not happen, if only to make himself look innocent. Free of culpability from something that was entirely his fault.”
Bryson’s head spun. “You’re speaking in riddles.”
“Am I?” His palm lifted against her back and he brought her hand between them, pressing it over her chest where he likely was feeling the rapid beating of her heart. His smile kicked up. “You are nervous.”
There was no point in denying the obvious. “I am. You would be too if you were in a strange court, surrounded by strange Fae who wanted nothing more than to kill you simply by association with your brother.”
“You must understand it is nothing personal, little Fae.” His palm splayed against her chest, trapping her hand against his. His grip was firm, but not painful. “At least not towards you. You are merely a means to an end here.”
They twirled again and more powder rained down. It made Bryson feel like she was floating. Flying.
“And what end is that?” she found herself asking.
Cassimir lowered his head. Close enough that his lips pressed against her ear. Close enough that his tongue flicked against her skin. “Weylyn’s demise.”
Her entire body tensed at the threat that was so obvious in his tone. It left no room for second-guessing. No room for anything but the truth. They wanted Weylyn dead. And they would stop at nothing to get it, even if it meant using her to get to him.
Fear snaked through her body, wrapping around her tightly and refusing to let go.
