Page 33
Story: A Strange Hymn
My eyes drift past the statue to an enormous stone bridge the length of at least two football fields that branches off the grand plaza. Halfway across it, its lamps fade into the misty darkness.
Beyond the bridge, I can just make out another floating island.
“What’s over there?” I ask, nodding in that direction. There’s something about it, something insidious and compelling that calls to my darker nature.
Des frowns. “Memnos, the Land of Nightmares.”
“Memnos,” I repeat, staring at it. I remember Des listing off the names of all these floating islands weeks ago. “Are we going to visit?” I ask.
The Bargainer hesitates. “Do you remember the bog?”
How could I forget?
I nod.
“That’s just one of the many creatures that call Memnos home.”
I shiver a little. Point taken.
“Eventually, I’ll show you the island, but right now…” He takes my hand, giving me a deep look. “Right now this trip is for us.”
Chapter 10
The next morning, I wake inside our suite in Phyllia to the tickle of Des’s hair against my back and the press of soft kisses down my spine, between my wings.
I stretch languidly, a small smile spreading across my face.
After a magical evening exploring Phyllia last night, the two of us checked into a hotel just off the main plaza boasting rooms that change color and theme.
When we’re outside the room, Des will surely still be camouflaging our appearances. Staying at a hotel like a normal person is just not something a king can usually get away with.
The kisses down my back now pause. A moment later, Des nips my ear. “Have I mentioned how well you wear bedhead?” he says, his voice low and husky.
I laugh into my pillow, reaching out with a hand and pushing away his meaty body. He rolls, dragging me on top of him, stealing kisses from my lips. I blink my sleepy eyes open and stare down at his face.
“This is my favorite thing,” he says.
I’m still trying to drag myself awake.
“What is?” I ask.
“Waking up to you each morning.” He taps a finger to my nose. “Especially when you’re sleepy and adorable.”
I suppress a yawn. “How are you so…awake?”
Rather than answer, he slides out from under me. I plop onto the mattress, my eyes already beginning to close.
Once again I’m roused by his touch, his hand warm on my back. And then I smell it.
Deliverance—a.k.a. coffee.
I pry my eyes open, and there it is: the steaming mug of coffee is only inches from my face.
I reach for it.
“Ah, ah,” Des says, moving it out of my grasp. “If you want it, you’re going to have to get out of bed.”
As if to encourage me further, my covers slide off my shoulders of their own accord, slipping down to my ankles.
Table of Contents
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