Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Helping one stay on the right path?”
“No.” I turn to him. “Helping one another stay on the path.”
Maybe it’s the night air, the leftover fear from the earthshake, or the firelight softening his sharp edges, but something shifts. We talk easily. Until we yawn. Until we curl beside the fire and sleep overtakes us.
Deep.
Dreamless.
And when I wake . . .
The luminarium is quiet.
Empty.
My breath is the only breath to fog the air.
Maybe . . . maybe he went out to forage?
I wait.
I pace.
I call his name.
I search the rocky ledges outside.
I wait some more.
But he doesn’t come back.
Calix is gone.
I kick the cold ashes and stub my toe. A laugh sputters out of me. Of course. What was I thinking?
That one night would mean something?
That we were, what, friends?
I wrap my robe tighter and start down the mountain.
No note. No goodbye. Not even a horse left behind.
I’m going to get an earful from Father.
And my brother. This robe . . .
I march down the mist-wrapped path, a silent declaration accompanying every step.
Calix ‘Maskios’ Solin—you! You just wait.
The canal banks are aglow with magic under a crisp night sky.
Blooms of light drift through the air, swirling, shimmering, dancing like the spirits in love that they are. Soft glows wrap around couples strolling hand in hand, casting hues of gold and violet and rose onto their faces. The reflections of those soulful lights glitter in the canals, transforming the city into a dream of love.
It’s the Lovelight Festival.
Love drips from every floating lantern, and every whispered wish into a lover’s ear.
All this beauty, and I can’t enjoy it. Not while I’m being chased, anyway.
Sons of high-ranking officials. The same insufferable ones from the cat incident.
I was just sniffing sweet buns near the spice vendor when— Yelling. Pointing. Flinging of spells. I ducked, yelped, and bolted.
I’m still doing it. I rush along the path six feet above the canal water, heart pounding, dodging errant spells as they spark against the cobblestones behind me. Not the lights I want to see today!
“Stop him!” someone shouts.
“You’ll never find true love acting like this!” I shout back over my shoulder.
The wrong thing to say.
A spell slices past my ear and I scent the drop of blood that spills with it.
I keep running, cloak flying behind me. The path curves, narrow and slick; a bloom of light spins into my face; I stagger—
And a rough gust of wind—or magic, or bad luck—shoves me sideways.
My feet miss the edge.
I tip. Fall. Right into the shadows beneath the canal bank.
The air whooshes from my lungs as I land half-sprawled, half-hugged, blinking wildly as I register a boat, a small one tucked beneath a stone overhang.
And Calix.
Of course it’s him. Sitting silently in a boat. Like an inconveniently breath-catching fate.
Holding me on his lap.
My eyes widen and he plants a finger over my lips. Fast footsteps clank and clatter on the path above. “Where’d he go?”
“Must have reached the other side. Come, we’ll get him yet.”
By the time the echoing claps of their boots disappear, the rowboat has drifted back out from under the bridge, farther away from my noisy pursuers.
The night skies stretch overhead, the water around us is a deep inky black, the trees on the banks are a rustle of moving shadow. I’m still frozen on Calix’s lap and his finger is still at my lips.
And then boom—all around, lovelights burst out of lovers, glittering and twirling.
The lights dance and speckle the surroundings, casting light and shadow over Calix’s face, mine. We stare at one another.
He drops his fingers gently off me, and I . . . my breath is tight. There’s something soft in Calix’s gaze, something that seems real amongst the shimmer of his magic mask.
I sink into his hold, then tremble. I shouldn’t . . .
It’s relief. To have gotten away.
Calix’s breath hitches, I feel the tickle stop combing through my hair.
I frown at his mask that keeps holding me hostage.
Calix throws me off his lap and I land on the bank with a thunk and a thundering heart.
“I’m not your enemy.”
“You’re not my friend, either.”
Calix sinks a fraction. “What were you up to tonight, before you ran into those nobles? Should I drop you off to someone?”
I pat my belt, feeling for a pouch that is no longer there. Must have fallen in the chase. I sigh and look at Calix imploringly. “Are you hungry? How about we go for some pecan puffs?”
“Pecan puffs?”
“Ground pecans in a creamy custard set into the lightest, flakiest pastries, and pretty taffy art to top it.” My stomach rumbles. I pat it. “Shall we share a plate?”
Calix picks up his oars and shakes his head at me. “You’ve lost your money, haven’t you?”
“Please? They’re a hassle to make so they only sell them at the lovelight festival. I’ll have to wait an entire year . . .”