Page 49 of Eldritch
“I was holding it. Suddenly it melted. It burned, and I couldn’t rub it away. Then a strange…symbol appeared.” The shape of it came to mind again. “I opened—” My words were cut short by the whistling again, and just as before, I slapped a hand over the sound.
Zevander ran his palm over his mouth and looked away, the squint of his eyes telling me he’d found it amusing.
I tried to tell him there was nothing funny about it, but all that flew out of me was a sharp squeal.
He snorted, still keeping his hand to his mouth. Eyes clamped, he shook his head and cleared his throat. “Get the glyph out of your mind,” he said, his words broken by a chuckle. “Think of something else.”
For some reason, I couldn’t. The shape of it was so incredibly unusual, I couldn’t stop mentally marveling at the memory of it.
Again, I tried to speak for only a faint whistle to escape.
“You need to think of something else. It’s the only way it’ll stop.”
I can’t!my head screamed, the frustration burning in my cheeks.
He leaned forward, gripping either side of my face with both hands, and pressed his lips to mine.
My stomach fluttered with the frantic whisper of butterfly wings tickling my ribs. I’d forgotten how exquisite his kisses felt. How much I’d longed for just one, in the time we’d kept ourselves apart. Yes, we’d kissed each other since, but nothing like this. I felt him pull away to break the kiss, but my heart yearned for more. I clutched his tunic for just a moment longer, then forced myself to break away.
Still holding my face, he stared into me. “Better?”
“Yes,” I whispered and cleared my throat, as he lowered his hands. “Thank you.”
“Seems you don’t need the whistle anymore. You’ve acquired a new glyph, albeit a strange and slightly unsettling one.” He strode toward the table, casually and completely oblivious to the heat he’d just stirred in me. A small bit of Elowen’s liquor remained in the bottle, and he tipped back a sip.
“How does this keep happening? I keep stumbling upon these macabre powers. They can’t just be normal? Like Rykaia’s ability to feel the emotions of others. Or Allura’s ability to read bones. No, not me!” I threw my arms up in the air, the anger spiraling through me. “I end up with black fingertips, a spine that flies out of my palm, and a damned whistle in my throat!”
Zevander snapped his head to the side, his lips pressed tight as if trying to suppress a laugh.
“Go ahead. Laugh—” My voice faltered on the word, as a fleeting breath of laughter escaped me. I pressed my lips together to hold it in, shaking my head as if it would stave off the urge.
Zevander chuckled, and I let loose another laugh. Together, the two of us laughed so hard, tears formed in my eyes.
He tipped back a swill of the liquor, rubbing his mouth on the back of his hand. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve got a scorpion that tries to stab me on occasion.”
Again, I let out another laugh, feeling giddy and weak, my sides aching from the intensity of it. “We are probably the sorriest two in all of Aethyria.”
“We’re not in Aethyria. We’re rotting away in the mortal lands.”
Both of us wheezed with laughter, my body teetering just enough that I nearly fell out of the rocking chair. The last time I laughed so hard, I’d been intoxicated.
The laughter finally died down again, and I sighed, staring off at the fire. “You know what I miss? Magdah’s stew.”
“How did we arrive at that thought, exactly?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve grown bored of canned apples and pickled eggs, I suppose. Have you ever eaten a horrible meal in Aethyria in your life? It seems like everything is delicious.”
“It’s the vivicantem in the food. Gives it a vibrant flavor. But I’ve had my share of slop.”
“I can’t imagine it. I’ll be so glad to return.”
Bottle halfway to his mouth, he turned toward me, staring for a moment before polishing off the rest of the liquor. “As will I.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ZEVANDER
Past …
