Page 127

Sarina. Was. Drunk.

Delightfully so, she thought as she stumbled down the empty street. The old clock tower in the distant Central Square chimed the hour. It was nearly dawn, or what passed for it during Solnar. If she squinted, she could make out the slightest lightening on the horizon.

They’d talked for hours, sitting at the bar and drinking and laughing until night turned to morning.

It was the latest Sarina had stayed out in, well, a long time.

The first time since she could remember when she’d felt a…

spark of something vital, something shimmering and warm and too long buried awakening like an ember in her heart.

“Careful,” Brielle said, gently guiding Sarina back onto the sidewalk and away from the lone horse-drawn carriage plodding down the street.

The Fey in the driver’s seat, a Lowborn man with kind eyes peeking out from beneath a worn gray scarf pulled all the way up to his nose, nodded a silent greeting.

Sarina gave a lazy smile and waved a shoe. She’d ripped them off four blocks ago, because her balance was also drunk and it was easier to walk without three extra inches to maneuver.

“I can’t believe you got us kicked out,” Brielle drawled.

The light from the streetlamps teased out the bits of violet in her dark hair, spilling like a sheet over the collar of her black fur coat.

“Seriously, I don’t think I’ve been kicked out of a bar since…

well, actually since the last time I went drinking with you. ”

Sarina’s bare feet slapped through the puddles, a red shimmer of magic keeping her toes from turning blue. “It was one fire.”

Brielle’s mouth quirked upward. “Why do fire mages always think that’s a good argument?”

“Because if we had our way, there would be more fires?” Sarina shook her head, confused. It was simple logic. She always found it amazing that it even needed explaining. “And it was only his coat— One sleeve of his coat.”

That the man happened to be wearing at the time. It truly had been an accident. She’d placed a hand on his arm. A bit of innocent flirtation—or it would’ve been if liquor didn’t always make her run hot.

She was still feeling hot, deliciously flushed with an inexplicable urge to giggle. So she did, hiking up her skirts to run ahead and plunge feet first into a giant puddle.

Water sprayed, and steam hissed. Sarina watched, delighted, as it billowed in the chill night air.

“Besides, don’t think I didn’t notice that sudden gust of wind.

” She flung out an arm, giving her best imitation.

“I’ll take responsibility where it’s due, but I am not the reason he went flying over the bar. ”

And into the five shelves behind it—packed with countless bottles of liquor. And some cooking oil. And a few tins of fire crystals.

The resulting explosion was magnificent .

“Admit it, Bri. You were jealous—you’ve always been jealous of my wit, and my beauty, and my… red hair?” Just like that, her booze-addled brain ran out of adjectives.

Brielle stood watching her from beneath a streetlamp. “And if I was?” she said, too soft, too serious. “What if I didn’t like the way he was touching you? Or the way you were smiling at him? What if I didn’t want the night to end early?”

Somewhere deep down, Sarina recognized the truth in it. But she was just drunk enough to deny it.

She started walking. “I don’t need an escort, you know. I can make it home on my own.” A polite dismissal.

But Brielle called after her, “This place was always too small for you.”

Sarina didn’t turn around.

“I mean it. Madoc knew what he had, Rina. He saw how much you outshone him. And instead of making himself better, instead of trying to earn you—to be worthy —that bastard made you dim your light instead.”

Sarina continued up the hill, counting her breaths. Too many thoughts—this was why she didn’t drink. Because then the door she’d firmly closed on those memories better left untouched would start to nudge open.

“Rina!”

Sarina whipped around, stumbling backward when she found Brielle standing right behind her. Eyes the color of cinnamon seemed to glow in the dim light, and for a moment, all Sarina could see were those eyes staring back at her from another time, Solstice firelight dancing in their depths.

Brielle steadied her. And didn’t let go once she’d found her feet.

“We’ve been over this,” Sarina whispered, not sure when her heart had started to pound. “My husband is dead. And until there’s a body I can put to rest, I—”

“That’s an excuse.” Brielle’s fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Lie to yourself, but not to me.”

They were standing toe-to-toe, close enough to feel the heat from the other’s body. It would’ve been easy to lean in, to keep living in the past for just a few more hours. To wake up to something more than just an empty bed and remember, if only for a morning, what it was like to feel wanted.

But that was the thing about pain—it didn’t let go when you were ready. It dug in its claws and made you pick them out one by one.

So, Sarina stepped away. She told herself she was too drunk to see the hurt etched in Bri’s face. Or to know what it meant.

“How long is it going to take, Rina?” Her voice was hollow, soft. “How long are you going to stay on this shell of an island waiting for a man who never deserved you?”

Sarina had no answer. Just closed her eyes as those claws sunk deeper.

Madoc had been on the bridges that day, on his way to Eya trying to broker a trade. Yet another business he was trying to start from the ground up. He was a hard worker, just never had any luck.

But then the bridges closed. The world changed forever.

Sarina wasn’t the only one with family who would never come home. Certainly not the last person still clinging to their grief.

She dropped her shoes and stepped into them, one and then the other, finding her balance. When she was done, she lifted her eyes to Bri’s and said a simple, “Goodnight.”

Then she turned, heels clicking on the sidewalk. The townhouse was just up the hill.

“So, that’s it?” Brielle called after her. “You’re just going to walk away? The old you never would’ve given up a fight.”

The old her had less sadness. Fewer lies to sort through. And if she stayed, she might just have to face the truth.

Brielle didn’t follow. Sarina didn’t know why it hurt so much to hear her footsteps trailing off in the opposite direction.

She wrapped her arms tight around herself, her fires guttering, and welcomed the chill wind that hit her as she started up the hill.