Page 29 of Enchantment of Silver and Sea
When the shapes reached the edge of the high-rise directly across from my apartment, they paused.
I stood and walked to the edge of the railing, holding my breath.
One of the shapes moved quickly across the rooftop. Faster and faster, until it sailed over the edge, across the street, and onto the living quarters’ lawn. I could make out now that it was Nya. She sprinted up the incline until she was in line with the column of balconies that led to mine. I had assumed she would climb from balcony to balcony, but instead she launched herself into the air.
She landed right beside me, the soles of her boots smacking the cement. That, I realized, was the thud I always heard from inside the apartment.
Kieran wasn’t far behind. He followed the same path as Nya, who stepped aside to make room for him. He landed in a crouch, straightened, and flashed me a grin.
“Okay.” Nya’s voice had that commanding edge that it took on when she was focused. “Maila, you’re with Kieran.”
“To dothat?”
I had known we were going to have to do some running and climbing to sneak out of the city, but I hadn’t expected what I just witnessed. Leaping inhuman distances and arcing through the air like giant crickets.
Kieran lifted his shirt sleeve to reveal a diamond-shaped marking on his left deltoid. It was about two inches long and one inch wide, the lines contained within too intricate to make out fully in the dark.
“Congratulations! This is your first encounter withmagic.” He said the last part in a mock ominous tone, waving his hands in the air.
Nya rolled her eyes. Then she lifted the cuff of her shorts to show me the identical marking on her right thigh.
The realization made my chest constrict and my pulse start hammering, but in the best possible way. Kieran was right. I had spent most of my life reading about magic and researching magic. Now I was witnessing it firsthand.
Starting with these tattoos, which I assumed were the work of an enchantress. I adored enchantresses, mostly because some research I had done on them a few years back had led me to this eloquently written line from an Enforcer’s field journal: “Holy fuck these people look like people, but I don’t think they ARE people.”
Turns out, they were people. Just not “our” people. They arrived during The Awakening.
“Luck is on our side tonight,” Kieran continued. “The wards are disabled in one section of the wall.”
There was one burning question answered. Finally. “Who disabled them?”
Kieran’s smile was the definition of smug. “I did.”
“Both of you be quiet and come on.” Nya’s chastising whisper came from the other side of the balcony. She had slung my bag over her shoulder, where it hung against her backpack, and she was already perched on the railing.
Kieran turned his back to me and squatted down.
After a beat, he spoke. “The magic only works on me. So unless you’ve been concealing some magic of your own, you’d better hop on.”
Right. I lowered myself toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
In one swift movement, he stood, caught my legs in his hands, and pitched my weight forward so that my chin was resting on his shoulder. Our cheeks pressed against one another.
His body was warm despite the cool night air, and I could feel the rounded muscles of his shoulders, back, and arms against me. There was something about the way his hands cradled my thighs that was both firm and gentle.
“Ready?” With my face and neck against his, I could feel the vibration of his voice in his throat.
“Ready,” I confirmed, a bit more breathlessly than I would’ve liked. My heart was hammering again, but it had nothing to dowith the fact that he was climbing onto the railing next to Nya, about to free-fall from my seventh-floor balcony.
Nya jumped first, sailing to the ground with the grace of a cat.
Kieran dropped his hands from my legs, holding out his arms to steady himself.
All my feelings about being this close to him abruptly vanished. I was going to be sick. I squeezed my eyes shut and tightened my legs around him.
“You know,” he said, turning so his lips brushed against my ear, making me shiver involuntarily. “That shirt looks great on you.” His tone told me he wasn’t referring to the fabric or the color. “But I think your look the other night is my favorite.”
The stupid nightgown.
