Page 21 of A Song of Air
It felt like there was a charge of lightning through the air, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. It was strange and came out of nowhere. She tamped it down, though, and kept moving forward until she was positioned between the two groups.
“Bryce, what the fuck are you doing?” Ev reached for her, yanking on the back of her cloak in his attempt to pull her away. She dug her heels into the dirt, ignoring him.
“Stop it, Ev. Stop it all of you,” she called out. “Stop fighting.”
Ev yanked on her a second time. “Bryce, you don’t—”
That energy within her body expanded as she focused her attention on the other group. She was drawn in by the ones that stood at the front, by their scents. A mixture of things that were so potent, her nerves came alive. Fae. She scentedFae.Fae that smelt like embers and confections, ice and crisp winter, rain and salt and lily pads, of medicinal herbs, leather, and so much more...
They intermingled together to create some sort of potent magic that zapped through her body. The back of her neck itched, and she felt her feet gravitate in their direction. It was like something inside her called to them, or they called to her, she wasn’t sure. But the magic in her body responded. It came out in a sweep of wind overhead.
“Guys,” Clay’s voice called out. “I met a friend.”
“Friend?” Ev echoed with disbelief.
“They were surrounded by the Kurreen,” she answered, still staring. Her attention was on the Fae women at the front, each more different than the last. One had long, tumbling hair the color of midnight and golden-brown skin. Bryson wasn’t close enough to tell, but she could swear the woman was beautiful. Same as the others. Though the second Fae was taller, stronger, with white hair close to her scalp and ebony skin. The third was smaller, lighter in skin and hair.
It was the blonde woman that stepped close to where Clay and Basil stood. “Basil, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, mommy.”
“The Kurreen?”
The collective voices pushed around Bryson, rising, demanding, questioning, and above all, buzzing over her body and settling deep into her bones.
“Bryson, are you alright?” Ev’s voice felt like a distant echo, one she couldn’t really hear when her entire focus remained in front of her.
On threewomen, on threescentsin particular.
Embers.
Ice.
Rain.
And something magical slithered down her spine and her father’s words echoed in her mind.
You are the last.
Bryson stepped forward, drawing the heavy weight of every eye towards her. “Who are you?” she asked, no, demanded.
And somehow, she knew who stood in front of her. She felt it as surely as she felt the raised flesh of the scars down her backside.
“Elementals,” someone replied.
But Clay, Clay laughed and said, “We are the Resistance.”
