Page 84 of A Song of Air
“It is unclear why Arlo hates us so much, and it only took an exchange of those few words to realize there is no convincing him. You saw it too, right?”
He nodded. “I did, my prince.”
“We will find no help with these rebels.” His dark gaze flashed across the camp. Across the many bodies that had treated them with outright hostility since they arrived. “It is time we made our proposition to the air Elemental and leave this place.”
Finally, Uric wanted to exhale. Instead, he nodded once again.
“Come,” Valerio ordered. “We must hurry. For a war is coming, and we still have two more Elementals to find.”
A Mushroom Circle
“Bryson, come drinkwith us.”
Bryson turned, staring at the blurry form of her best friend and Iona, as well as Shula and Corvina. They sat huddled together like they were the closest of friends, whispering conspiratorial secrets to one another.
That familiar surge of bitterness rose to choke through Bryson’s throat. She had to fight back the glare she wanted to throw in Iona’s direction, the hatefulness and spite that had been growing within her.
Here she was, suffering with too many thoughts and secrets shoved inside her own mind, with words she couldn’t dare say to Ev or anyone else, the betrayal weighing heavily on her shoulders, and so much anger that she had no outlet for. She wanted, now more than ever, desperately for her friend.
Yet here her friend sat.
Sipping delicately at Fae wine from a goblet with her long-lost sister.
How easily replaceable Bryson was. How nice it must be to find your family alive and well after all this time.
The envy was as vicious as a tornado, sweeping destruction through her very system. She fought against the wind, but all she managed to do was to tangle herself in the chaos. She couldn’t think. She could only feel.
She swallowed the rising lump in her throat and swiped her palms against her thighs. Among all her roiling emotions, there was a terrible longing and melancholy. She missed Malika. It felt like they hadn’t spoken to one another in so long. All the words Bryson wanted to say rushed to her lips, which she pressed tightly closed as her gaze swept around the lot of Fae waiting for her to take a seat.
“Okay,” she whispered and went to sit across from Malika.
It felt like inserting herself into a puzzle in which she didn’t belong, like she was a random piece placed onto an entirely different board. There was a stilted moment of silence and she felt eyes on her. The Fae Elementals were assessing, likely wondering, just as she did, where she fit within their sphere.
“Where have you been, stranger?” Malika asked, pressing her palm against Bryson’s knee. “I feel like we haven’t spoken in forever.”
Bryson swallowed the lump in her throat. “Arlo has been keeping me busy.” Her words tasted angry and bitter, and they put a frown on Malika’s face. But before she could ask, the Seelie Prince approached alongside his faithful, silver-haired guard.
