Page 27

I groan. I forgot for an instant that I was out here learning how to fly.

I do as he says, the action stirring my hair. Des watches my wingbeats shrewdly, nodding like an instructor.

“Now try jumping,” he says. “See if you can keep yourself in the air for any length of time.”

“Want me to juggle while I’m at it?” I feel like a circus sideshow.

He folds his arms and just waits.

I sigh. “Fine.” I jump, beating my wings. Nothing impressive happens.

“Again.”

I try again, and like the first time, my wings are useless.

“Again.”

I try again. And again. And again. After doing it a couple dozen times, I begin to understand there’s a timing to it. And then, after a few more dozen tries, my wings successfully fight gravity, if only for an extra second.

Des nods, his face serious. “Good enough.”

He takes my upper arm, leading me to the edge of the balcony.

“Goo—good enough?” I look over at him skeptically. “Good enough forwhat?”

The Bargainer steps onto the balcony railing.

“What are you doing?”

He steps over the ledge and turns to face me, securing his feet between two delicately carved columns on the stone balustrade.

“Cherub, it’s all right.” He says this like he’s the most reasonable guy in the world and not in fact the dude balancing precariously on the edge of the highest balcony in Somnia. He slaps the top of the marble railing between us. “Step up here.”

A disbelieving laugh slips out. “No way.”

“Callie,” he says, sounding disappointed, “I’m wounded. I would never lead you astray.”

Says the man who taught me to drink and gamble. I think he needs to tighten up his definition ofastray.

When I stay rooted in place, he says, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

I fold my arms over my chest, not budging.

His eyes brighten with excitement. There are few things Des enjoys more than my defiance. Unfortunately for me, it never gets me very far with him.

I feel the breath of his magic at my back, forcing me forward and then propelling me onto the edge of the balcony in front of him.

“You are such a bastard,” I say as I climb onto it. Up here the wind is blustery enough to shake my body and whip my hair about.

From the other side of the railing, Des grabs my waist, bracing me. He grins up at me like a pirate. “Sticks and stones, Callie. Now”—he gives my sides a squeeze—“open those wings for me again.”

Ignoring all my better judgment, I do as he asks. A gust of wind blows against me, lifting my wings.

“You feel that?” the Bargainer asks, studying my every reaction. “That’s an air current. We’ll be using them to travel.”

“Can I get down now?”

Des’s lips quirk mischievously. “Cherub, the next surface your feet touch will be in a different city.”