Page 29 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
Bristol did what she had to do, but she felt the twitch and pull of every manipulation.
Isn’t our family worth more than him?
She made the sale and got Cael back, and now anyone could step up on the Stone of Destiny without it costing Cael his life. Anyone. It didn’t have to be Cael. Maybe it shouldn’t be.
“Ahhhh,” Julia sighed as if she had just slipped into a warm bath. They had arrived at the quiet plaza with the beautiful view of the sea. “Peace at last.”
Sashka tweaked her head to the side, catching the hint of a siren song wafting on the breeze. “Tempting. Almost makes you want to go for a swim.”
“Tempting you is their job, and they’re good at it,” Julia said. “But go for a swim, and it will be your last.”
“Fish food,” Avery confirmed.
Bristol was tempted too. The siren song was strong, piercing the senses like an arrow, like so many of the enticements of Elphame—so much of it beautiful, so much of it deadly. Right then, swimming seemed like the most perfectly logical thing to do. Let the water and waves drown out the world she was trying to escape. But Bristol didn’t want any swim to be her last. She had goals that didn’t include being dinner for bottom dwellers.
They laid their feast on the table and dug in, passing plates and flasks and baskets of bread. Bristol’s heart floated as she watched them effortlessly working together, the easy comradery. She loved them all and wondered again about chances, the slim probability of them all ending up here from so many far-flung places, and the even greater odds of failure during that first week. Yet here they all were, still together. She remembered Tyghan’s words:A million chances happen every day. The difference is what we make of them. These friends took a chance on her and on each other. They had reached out and cheered one another on from day one. Without them, Bristol wouldn’t still be here. She likely wouldn’t even be alive. The clatter of dishes, the splash of wine in glasses, the hush of the tide pushing and pulling at the rocks on the shore far below them, their relaxed chatter, it was the music they all needed.
“Good thing Old Noodle Legs didn’t nick you today,” Sashka said, “or we reallywouldbe guilty of regicide!”
“A very good thing,” Julia echoed.
“Old Noodle Legs isn’t that old,” Rose said. “Thirty, tops.”
“Thirty-one,” Avery corrected. “I checked.”
“Hmm,” Hollis said. “Already checking out the king?”
Avery hissed, like he was the last person she would ever check out.
Bristol poured herself a goblet of velvety red wine and quickly downed it, determined to push thoughts of Cael and bargains from her mind, to enjoy this time with her friends, to make every complication disappear if only for one evening. Was that too much to ask? But thoughts were hard to turn off.
That prince. She poured herself another glass.Without him. It was a blatant lie. Leaving Tyghan was unthinkable. She still wasn’t sure how she had convinced her mother she was only using him, but Bristol had risen to the challenge, her inflection disdainful, her timing perfection. Maybe when you were afraid and desperate, lying was elevated to an art. If so, Bristol had become a master artist.
Julia lifted her glass in a toast. “It’s a feast fit for knights.”
“Which we practically are after today’s feat!” Rose said, clinking her glass with the others.
Avery jumped to her feet, her fist waving high above her head like it held a weapon, and proclaimed, “Every one of us should be presented with a ruby-adorned sword!”
“Hear, hear!” Hollis called. “Ruby swords all around!”
Sashka laughed, imitating Julia’s order to Cael. “Lower it. Now!”
“His face!” Rose squealed. “It was priceless.”
“Best moment since we got here,” Avery agreed.
They all laughed, recounting the antics they had to go through to tie Cael to August’s back—his noodle legs, threats, and the weak orders he kept spouting.
“What a prize. Do you think he’s always so disagreeable?” Avery asked.
Julia’s glass hummed as she ran her finger along its rim. “Well, he was imprisoned for months under harsh conditions. He may have lost a lot of perspective and trust during that time.”
“And weight,” Hollis added. “Did they even feed him? He was so gaunt. I get grouchy as a bear when I haven’t eaten.”
Rose grimaced. “I bet he had to scavenge for roaches and rats. Maybe he does deserve some pity—”
“Except that he wants us all executed,” Sashka reminded her.
