Page 134

The entire city had turned out, at least it seemed that way, all crammed into the small tangle of streets spreading out from the Swap.

There were stalls with food and games, music spilling from some of them, fiddles and drums and flutes all competing to be heard.

Children zipped by underfoot carrying toy poppers streaming ribbons of light.

Brightly colored tarps had been strung from the rooftops to keep away the rain.

Swaying beneath them, rows of paper lanterns hung on corded vines covered with tiny flowers that flashed from red to blue to green.

Indeed, the entire street, every surface, was covered in those flowers, the stall awnings grown from them, so that with every gust of wind a rain of colorful petals fluttered down over the crowd.

They had a two-fold purpose. The Curse was still ravaging the city. Both humans and Fey were continuing to fall ill. But the pollen from the pax blossom had been shown to give some partial immunity in addition to being an easy-to-grow festival decoration.

“What about that one?” Taly asked, pointing to a stall where a man juggled rings of fire. People crowded around, all trying to throw paper balls through the center.

Aiden took one look and grumbled, “It’s rigged.”

“Of course, it’s rigged,” Skye said, one arm slung around Taly. “That’s what makes it so much more impressive when we win those prizes for our ladies .”

“I have no prizes yet,” Taly said around a mouthful of sugar floss spun from honey. “Also, don’t say ladies like that. It’s weird.” She hopped, trying to see over the crowd. “What about that one?”

Aiden looked to where she pointed—a booth with people gathered behind the counter, tossing rings and trying to get just one to land around the neck of a bottle.

“Also rigged,” he said. Air crystals hidden between the rows of bottles would blow any ring close enough to winning off course. “You know, you two are more than welcome to go do your own thing. I don’t need babysitting.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Skye reached up to tap the bottom of a lantern as they passed underneath. A pulse of his aether set it flickering. “The moment we look away, you’re going to sneak off to the healing camp. Never mind that you already worked the last two shifts.”

That… had been his plan, actually. Not that he didn’t need a night off, but—

Aiden bit back a growl when someone clipped his shoulder, not even bothering to apologize. “There are better ways I could be using my time.”

Taly craned her head to watch as a man with a pet harpy [v] perched on his shoulder ambled by. “Aiden, we’re worried about you.” Skye nodded grimly. “If you don’t occasionally remove that stick from your ass, it will become permanent.”

Aiden resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Funny.”

“She has her moments,” Skye murmured, kissing her hair, and Aiden barely resisted the urge to vomit.

Not that he wasn’t happy for them—he was.

They’d loved each other for as long as he’d known them, and after so many years of denying that love, they deserved every bit of joy they could find.

But he was also tired of finding them in closets, tired of the long looks and subtle touches and every other silent way they found to say, I love you .

It was sickening. Sappy and uncomfortable, and would it really kill them to have slightly more consideration for those less lucky in love?

“What about that one?” Taly said, pointing to a booth with a long row of targets.

“Nope. I’m vetoing that one,” Skye said. “It’s no fun competing against you at the archery range.”

“This is about prizes, not fun.”

“No. This is about getting Aiden to experience that ever-elusive thing called joy .” Skye shot him a glance over Taly’s head. “Seriously, have you tried smiling?”

Aiden smiled.

“Now maybe less like you’re in pain?”

Aiden took a deep breath. “I—”

“Hey, is that Mina?”

Aiden looked to where Taly pointed.

Shit .

He jumped behind them.

Shit, shit, shit .

“Hey, it is Mina,” Taly said and waved. “Hey, Mi—”

Aiden snatched her hand back down.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. You two are still fighting. Sorry, I forgot.”

No, she hadn’t.

Skye said, “Would someone please explain why Aiden looks like he’s about to pass out?”

“That’s Mina,” Taly answered, popping another puff of sugar floss into her mouth.

“And who’s Mina?”

“She’s the person we don’t talk about ever since he royally fucked up.”

He hadn’t… okay maybe he had.

Maybe —key word—Aiden had let exhaustion and stress get the better of him. Maybe he’d gone looking for that fight.

Shit, Aiden thought. She was coming this way. It wasn’t too late to turn around, start running. Sure, he would look like a coward, but there were worse things.

Skye clapped a hand on his shoulder, as if he could sense the urge to run. And Aiden stood there, heart pounding as Mina pushed through the last of the crowd.

She stopped a foot in front of them, pulling back her hood so that he could see her fully. She looked beautiful. Her black hair was woven with jewels. Beneath a dark cloak, she wore a traditional festival gown in rich colors.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi,” Aiden echoed a bit lamely.

“Wow, this is awkward,” Skye observed. Aiden shot him a glare, but Skye only grinned, his devil’s smile a match to the one on Taly’s face. “Would you like us to leave?”

“I don’t want to leave,” Taly said. “This looks like it has the potential to be fun.” Aiden cast a scathing glance at his cousin. “Not for you. For me.” She popped another piece of sugar floss in her mouth, human gray eyes wide and sparkling with mischief.

“Get out of here,” Aiden said. The last thing he needed were witnesses to his shame.

Thankfully, Skye had never craved blood the way that Taly did. He showed mercy. “Alright, Taly, come on. How about you show me up at the archery range?”

“You two kids have fun!” she shouted, grinning as he hauled her off. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Which is actually not a lot, so maybe ignore that advice.”

The crowd swallowed them as they disappeared around the corner.

Aiden looked at Mina. She stared back, a long moment passing between them. “Look, I—” he began just as she said, “I’m glad—”

They both laughed before lapsing into another long moment of silence.

“Me first?” she asked. He nodded, relieved. “I guess I should say… that is, I’ve been wanting to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

She huffed a soft laugh, murmuring, “If only that were true.”

Aiden had known about the Curse long before any of the other healers.

His hands were tied, though—he couldn’t say a word until his uncle informed the public.

Day in, day out, he watched his colleagues, his fellow soldiers in the trenches, grieve for the patients they couldn’t save, unable to tell them the truth: that their efforts had been doomed from the start.

Mina had known something was off. When she finally cornered him, he was already on edge.

The lanterns’ glow gilded her skin in soft golds and reds.

It caught in her hair, glinting like molten bronze against the inky strands as she lifted her eyes to his.

“I pushed you for information, even when it became clear that you weren’t going to give it to me.

And I’m sorry. Once I stopped being angry and made myself think about it, I… I get it. You were under orders.”

It was a nice sentiment. He wanted it to be true, except— “Mina, you lost two patients the week leading up to the town hall. If you’d known it was a Curse—”

“I still would’ve lost them,” she said, and he knew it was true.

“Let’s be honest, Aiden, this”—she spread her arms wide, waving at the festival around them—“is a lie. Shades are still attacking, people are dying, and our only hope is a Gate that still has months to open. Everyone here, on some level, is expecting to die, and your uncle has the unfortunate task of making sure we don’t rip each other apart in the meantime.

So, yeah—I get it, and I’m sorry. I can’t imagine that information was easy to hold on to, especially considering what we do every day. ”

A tightness in his chest eased, and for the first time in weeks, Aiden felt like he could breathe. “Thank you. I—” Someone ran squarely into his shoulder, and he barely suppressed a growl.

They were standing in the middle of the aisle, people streaming by on either side.

“I’ve never been to anything like this before,” Mina said. They were both being jostled now. “I saw some food stalls one street over. Or maybe we could play a game?”

“They’re—” He was going to say rigged, but stopped himself, glancing over his shoulder to where Taly and Skye had disappeared. Pains in the ass—both of them. But maybe they had a point. He could afford to remove the stick. Occasionally.

So, turning back to Mina, Aiden said, “Sure,” gesturing for her to follow. “C’mon. I know a trick to this one.”

Taly found the archery range, and for all Skye’s complaining, he didn’t put up much of a fight when she went to buy tokens. Even started collecting bets and hyping her up when a crowd began to gather.

“Alright, everyone, listen up!” he announced. “The Savior of Ebondrift herself is about to show you how it’s done. I’m calling out to anyone here who thinks they can outshoot her. Place your bets and prove your worth, if you dare.”

An hour later, Taly had a bag full of prizes, a pocket full of coin, and a smug smile on her face.

They found the bar cart, and with beers in hand, they started at one end of the food block and worked their way down.

That had always been one advantage of attending festivals with shadow mages—they were bottomless pits, so even if she wanted to try one of everything, there was never any risk of food going to waste.

But that appetite was a double-edged sword.

With those quick fingers and even quicker reflexes, if she wanted more than a few bites of any one dish, she had to keep a heavy guard.