Page 8 of Burn Bright
It was as though the sun suddenlyrose.
A sun that thought the very idea of my expertiseludicrous.
"Cas has the finest nose I’ve ever seen," the prince said, in the sort of voice that said I should be charmed to be found lacking. "There’s nothing he can’ttrack."
"He’s not used tomyforests," I growled. "And you’re not the predators here in Gravenwold. You haveno ideawhat you’refacing."
"And you do?" asked the princemildly.
"My father’s spent years teaching me the woods. I know them as well as I know my ownreflection."
"Neva," Averillwhispered.
"Your father’s ahunter?"
"The best." Or he hadbeen.
"What sorts of predators reside in the woods?" Casimir brokein.
"It’s said there are monsters and witches in the woods." I faltered a little. "If you go too far inside its boundaries, then you don’t come out, so no one truly knows forcertain."
"The monsters of old?" the prince asked. "Chimeras? Unicorns? Dragons and whatnot? In Caskill, there are rumors of a firebird deep in Gravenwold. Of course, we’re certain they’re just that.Rumors."
"They’re not rumors." How typical of these city-folk to doubt everything they couldn’t see with their own eyes. "I’ve seen the White Hart myself. And my father once saw the firebird burst into flames and soar off through thetrees."
"He did?" the prince asked, his gaze focusing sharply uponme.
I thought of the single burning feather my father kept in a magic-sealed glass container in our cabin. It was all the firebird left behind the day he saw it, and the feather burned day and night, though it surged a hot blistering white-flame in the presence ofevil.
He’d given it to my mother on their wedding day, and though it surely could have been traded for a small fortune, not a single one of us would ever dare think such a thing. I knew I’d ratherstarve.
"He oncefound—"
"That’s all well and good," Averill burst in. "But not all of us are interested in tales of hunting and monsters." She fluttered her lashes at the prince, and held out her hand. "Surely you’d prefer todance?"
The prince’s smile wasn’t quite as bright as it had been before. "Perhaps some othertime."
What, by Vashta, had gotten into my sister? Averill didn’t even care formen.
"I insist," she said flirtatiously, taking his hand and practically dragging him toward the bonfire in the middle of the villagegreen.
* * *
I layin bed that night, tucked in against Averill while father snored in the next room. Eloya kept her cot at the foot his bed, just in case his health worsened during the night, and I waited until her breathing began to deepen before rolling towardAverill.
"Youwanted to dance? With the prince?" I asked dryly, for I’d been chewing over the earlier encounter allnight.
"You weren’t paying attention to his face," she murmured, rolling onto her side so we stared at each other in the faint glimmer of moonlight. "He was far too interested in the woods and the firebird. I didn’t think it a good idea for him to know of father’sfeather."
"I was about to tellthem."
"Iknow."
I frowned. "I lost mytemper."
Avie rolled her eyes. "You? Lose your temper?" She clucked her tongue. "Whoever would havethought?"
I threatened to pinch her and she laughedsoftly.
