Page 27 of Dark Bringer (Lord of Everfell #1)

The wind picked up, howling through the abandoned camp. But he could see that she was reviving. She stretched her legs out and braced her palms against the floor.

“So you never leave Arioch,” he said. “What are your favorite places in the city?”

“Well, there’s a bar called the Wandsbach Lounge in the Old Quarter.

I’m sure you’ve never been there. It’s a cypher hangout, mainly.

Run by a Kven from Iskatar. I like the fake palm trees.

” She thought for a moment. “There’s also a very good tea shop near the chapter house. It has sixty-seven specialty cheeses.”

“So many?”

Rowan laughed in delight. “Yes, sixty-seven! It’s on Dean’s Court. Go there if you don’t believe me.”

“I have my doubts,” Gavriel said with mock severity. “List these alleged cheeses.”

“Oh, I can’t remember them all. But here’s a few I’ve tried.

” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Cascaval and vorag. Stinky mancha, which is the proper name and entirely accurate. Herbed sheep’s milk kedem from Petrosaca, lovely for spreading on toast. What else?

An anise and pear-flavored Solway that’s not for everyone, but if you’re adventurous, you must taste it. ”

She went on for a bit more, then ran out of steam. Or cheeses, he thought in amusement.

“Well, I can’t claim to be surprised,” Gavriel remarked, “since they insist upon adding cheese to everything in Kirith.”

She studied his face in that direct way she had. The dark sweep of his wing rose up behind her head. He could feel her blonde hair tickling the alulae feathers, which were exquisitely sensitive.

“And what do you do for fun, Lord Morningstar, when you aren’t buried under paperwork?”

“Call me Gavriel. I am informal with my friends.”

Her lips parted in surprise. Then she gave him that sunny, beaming smile. “Only if you call me Cathrynne.”

His heart beat faster. “Very well. I like the astronomy tower with its brass telescopes. And the opera house because it reminds me of the Chorale. Have you ever been there?”

Her brows drew together. “The Chorale? I’ve never heard of it.”

Of course she wouldn’t. It was the glass and crystal basilica at Mount Meru where the seraphim praised the ley with their voices, but as a cypher, she might live her entire life not even speaking to an angel.

“I meant the opera house,” he said. “Everyone dresses in their finest clothing and they fill the hall. It has beautiful gilded balconies with private boxes. You can hear the sounds of the orchestra warming up in the pit, and then the lights go down and the singing begins.”

Rowan—Cathrynne—looked enchanted, and he imagined how it would be to escort her to the opera on some fine summer evening when the wisteria were in bloom and the great Eve Olivero was singing the part of the witch Ulrica.

Gavriel had the wild urge to lean closer. To enfold her entirely within his wings, close enough to feel the whisper of her breath. They were alone. No one would know. But what would she do?

Crack his skull with her cudgel, most likely.

Silence fell between them. He felt compelled to say something. By the Trinity, anything.

“I have never spent so much time with a cypher.” The words sounded stiff even to him. “You are . . . ” Intoxicating,fascinating, forbidden . “Very competent.”

She looked gratified. “Thank you, Lord . . . Gavriel.”

Their gazes met—and caught. That deep, mysterious blend of oakmoss, vetiver, and almond blossoms washed over him. He read her expression easily this time. By the Trinity, she wanted him too.

A reckless impulse seized him, one he knew was mad yet felt helpless to resist.

The ley in his blood craved her. There was no other way to describe it. He had never felt anything like it before, not in seven hundred years of life.

He leaned forward before he could stop himself, one hand catching the soft line of her jaw. Her lips were close enough to feel the slight gust of air. Cathrynne’s breath was sweet and innocent, like dew on green peaches.

He had not kissed a woman in a very long time. Gavriel stroked a thumb along her cheek. His head dipped, his mouth meeting hers. Gentle at first, testing.

He paused as she stiffened against him, but then her fingers threaded into his hair and she pulled him closer.

The last bit of his resolve came unmoored.

His teeth grazed her rapid pulse as he trailed kisses down her throat.

Cathrynne gasped, head falling back. He unbuttoned her coat with one hand, the other tugging her shirt free to caress the smooth skin of her hip.

Heat flashed through his body, pooled low in his belly.

He knew it was wrong, knew the penalties for them both, but he was beyond caring. Just once. Let me have her just once.

Gavriel was about to lay her down on the downy feathers of his wing when the ground beneath them shifted. It was subtle—just a slight vibration—but Cathrynne stirred in his arms. “What was that?” she whispered.

Gavriel ruthlessly took hold of himself. “Merely the wind, I’m sure?—”

The words died as another tremor came, stronger this time. Cathrynne pushed him back, her cheeks flushed. “That wasn’t the wind!”

His gaze rose to the partly collapsed ceiling.

The rest of the building looked as if it might follow suit with little encouragement.

“There’s seismic activity in this area,” he said, still painfully aroused and trying to hide it.

“I’ve seen the geological surveys. A major ley current runs along the border.

” With reluctance, he added, “We should get outside.”

She cast him a flustered look and quickly gathered her pack. When they ducked through the crooked doorway, it was still snowing hard and drifts had gathered along the windward side of the building. The snowbank cracked and shifted as another tremor came.

“Is this normal?” Cathrynne demanded. She had a wild look in her eye.

“I’ve experienced such quakes before,” Gavriel assured her. “They’re only deadly if you’re trapped in an enclosed space when they strike.”

A strange shudder ran through her. “Then let us get away from camp.”

She was turning to the road when a massive creature slithered from a fissure in the earth. Somehow, they must have overlooked it in the darkness. Gavriel had never seen one of the desert breeds from the ground before, only from the air. The size of it was staggering.

A blue emperor, named for the cobalt hue of its claws and tongue.

A flaming mane licked the ridges of its back, casting a red glow across the ground.

It had two sets of ridged horns and a patch of golden scales from throat to chest. Six powerful legs, each tipped with razor-sharp claws, supported its massive body.

A barbed tail covered in overlapping metallic plates lashed back and forth, gouging furrows in the frozen earth.

Gavriel found Cathrynne’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “ Don’t move ,” he whispered.

Whether this was the correct advice, he couldn’t say. But avoiding its attention seemed wise.

The Sinn’s head swung toward them. Its eyes were pools of molten gold, terrible and mesmerizing. Nostrils flared as it caught their scent.

They both dropped to a crouch as colossal wings unfurled. It launched from the ground and soared overhead, a river of flame streaming from its maw. The camp was briefly illuminated in orange light. When darkness fell again, it seemed thicker.

“Run!” Gavriel shouted, pushing Cathrynne in the direction of the road.

The Sinn banked in the air, its massive wings stirring up a blizzard as it came around for another pass.

Together, they sprinted across the open ground.

The beast roared, a sound unlike any Gavriel had heard before.

Another blast of flame shot past, close enough to singe.

They dove behind an outcropping as the intense heat turned the snow to billows of steam.

The blue emperor landed with a bone-jarring thud. It stalked forward, its long, scaled body undulating like molten quicksilver. The serpentine head reared back, preparing another blast.

Before Gavriel could stop her, Cathrynne stood to face the creature. She held a ruby, its facets catching the Sinn’s fiery mane. Gavriel sensed the volatile ley inside the stone. Felt it ignite, directed by her will. An invisible wall of energy rippled across the ground.

It had no effect. The Sinn roared again and slammed its tail down, reducing a ledge to a heap of rubble.

Cathrynne dropped the depleted gem. “Close your eyes,” she said grimly, fisting another stone from her pouch.

Ley flared again. A cloud of sandy grit rose up. Gavriel wanted to shield her from the monster with his own body, but her voice demanded obedience and he could feel the power within her surging, boiling. She was a cypher and this was her business.

He curled his good wing around himself. A maelstrom buffeted him on all sides, obscuring everything beyond a few cubits. All he could see was Cathrynne, flaxen hair whipping around her face and a sapphire glowing like a cold moon through her fingers. Her eyes blazed with the same light as the gem.

Gavriel heard an angry shriek from the Sinn, but he could not see what it was doing.

The storm lasted half a minute or so, though it felt longer. When the wind subsided and the dust had settled upon them both like a shroud, the blue emperor was gone. Only deep grooves in the earth marked where it had stood.

“Did you kill it?” he asked in amazement.

“No. It flew away.” Her chest heaved with effort. “Blinding it was the only thing I could think of.” Cathrynne rounded on him, a tempest still raging in her eyes. “We’re leaving this cursed place tonight, Morningstar, even if I have to walk all the way back to Kota Gelangi!”