Page 13 of Glimmer and Burn (Unity #1)

He worked the tension from his shoulder, muscles clenching to keep him from entering.

Pressing onward, he shuffled over the narrow, moss-covered bridge.

The water below was crystal clear, winding down and out the southern border of Unity.

Its source was in the Fey Wilds and defied natural law in flowing up higher ground, instead of down.

There was some sort of magical fae nonsense that played with the current, but he couldn’t remember what.

At the end of the bridge waited the lush, verdant Summer Court.

Devin stopped to check on Miranda, but she was crouched on her knees, petting the bridge.

“We don’t have all night,” he said and he attempted to keep the unease from his tone.

She pulled her fingers away from the plush moss and let her hands waft through fern fronds.

A genuine smile warmed her face, alighting her eyes as much as the hues of the landscape.

Still not enough to charm him to the fae side of the stream.

Devin turned rigidly and continued moving while she caught up.

Fae embraced nature with their architecture, finding a balance between function and preservation.

The trees were grown to be practical parts of the city, housing lights and glowing rocks.

The pathways were carefully sculpted amongst rich grass dotted with flowers.

Various springs and brooks trickled meandering courses through the unpaved paths, their direction not tamed or controlled.

Heat radiated from sources he couldn’t name, raising the temperature a good twenty degrees from the rest of the city.

A part of Devin was at home here, though he hated the fact. Hated that he felt calm around the natural beauty. That the twist of the water was soothing. Even being out at night felt invigorating, his body naturally attuned to the rise of the moon.

Magic was not something one wielded or controlled, not even the fae.

It only existed in natural forms throughout the Realm.

The fae were the chosen protectors of nature and so were more attuned to its magic than other races.

That was the source of their gifts, of his aura sight.

That was how they heated this court to unnatural temperatures and changed the flow of rivers.

Or, that is how his mother had explained it.

The specific names of the various stones and plants and elements and their multitude of uses he’d long forgotten.

“Wow, it’s beautiful here,” Miranda chimed quietly, taking in every detail.

“Yes, lovely,” he mocked, not wanting to admit that he agreed with her.

Though, a small voice in his head was extremely satisfied that she would find this place beautiful.

Maybe she wouldn’t reject his ancestry. Maybe she’d accept the fae part of him.

He may not accept himself, but there was still a yearning in his chest for acceptance.

Since he was a boy he’d subconsciously sought a place or people to call home.

His mother had done her best, but the cold treatment from his father plus a young half-breed son and no home to return to had left her broken and depressed.

And yes, he had friends who were polite about the subject, but that wasn’t the same thing.

If Miranda thought this place was beautiful then maybe…

Devin squashed that voice down hard. That was the fanciful fool talking.

He couldn’t trust a fanciful fool. Hoping that Miranda might accept him?

That was the path to heartbreak. She was a noble’s daughter and a guardian, even if she were polite or kind about his ancestry she’d never accept him for it.

Not in any way that mattered to him. So there was no point in seeking it out or pondering what-ifs.

“Do all the courts look the same?” Miranda asked, breathless.

Had she truly never ventured past her garden gates?

What sort of city promoted harmony and unity but then its social elite failed to venture from the familiar?

He shouldn’t be surprised she’d never been to a fae court.

He was wise not to trust the fanciful fool.

She had obviously been raised with the same prejudices that all guardians held for races they had once deemed dangerous.

“No, each court reflects the fae it represents. This is the Summer Court, which tends to be hotter and full of plants.” He trudged on, wishing she wouldn’t ask him about this. His stupid heart might mistake her curiosity for genuine interest or worse.

Miranda nodded, “Summer’s attunements are flora, fauna, and earth, while the Night Court’s are moon, water, and spirit.”

“They teach you that at etiquette lessons? So you don’t offend a Faery when dining together?”

Miranda’s shrewd eyes landed on him. “We do learn about each of the races, yes, but I didn’t do it for etiquette lessons. I’ve always loved learning about Faery lore and history. It’s fascinating.”

“Fascinating. I see. Like an animal that you can study?” His tone was unreasonably harsh. He knew it, but couldn’t seem to stop it. He wished they could just walk in silence. Coming here was painful enough without some guardian noble dangling hope in front of him.

“Okay,” she stopped dead, forcing him to acknowledge or leave her behind. Which was tempting. “What is your problem? You’ve been an ass ever since we entered this part of the city. Why? Do you hate Faery or something?”

He smiled, not sure if she could detect his pain or not. “You could say that.”

Her head cocked, confusion flitting across her face.

“Wait a second, I thought you were part Faery? That’s why I came to you in the first place,” she said, brow wrinkled adorably.

It was charming how she couldn’t comprehend how those two truths could coincide.

He hated Faery. He was fae. Really quite simple. He hated himself.

“Don’t hurt yourself, love. It’s not important. Shall we continue before dawn breaks and our chance to get into the court is lost for another day?”

Her frown didn’t disappear but she followed without another word. Strange that he didn’t feel better now that she’d stopped talking. He certainly did not want her to be curious about him, yet disappointment had settled in place of pain. And, if he wasn’t careful, both would lead to heartbreak.

Miranda struggled to take in every detail.

Beauty like this didn’t exist in the Garrison.

Even the finely sculpted halls or the masonry of the Spire didn’t compare to a Faery Court.

The Summer Court was woodsy and elegant, lush and warm.

Delicate in appearance, yet it had to be strong to support the infrastructure of a city.

It was still at the moment, save a few nocturnal creatures or the rustling of leaves.

“Did you grow up in this?” She asked, savoring the scents and otherworldly feel of such heat during a moderate spring. She wanted to name the floral and earthy notes in the air, but each plant was more foreign to her than the next. No azaleas or rhododendron in sight.

Devin’s back stiffened, his pace slowing, though he didn’t turn from his course. “No. This is the Summer Court, remember?”

“I meant in a court, not this one,” she was too engrossed to comment on his tone.

“I wasn’t welcome,” Drake said, and he picked up his pace toward the edge of the greenery.

Ahead, two enormous, thick trees created an archway, their canopy’s interconnected. On the other side was a different world. Miranda craned her head as they passed through the arch and into the Day Court.

A drastically different biome. Jagged rocks jutted up to form walls and sand-smoothed, rounded rocks formed homes, each layered in burnt shades of red, white, orange, and brown.

Sand shifted underfoot and among the muted, desert tones were pops of brilliantly colored succulents.

Giant variations with plump, rounded leaves or oily jagged curves or velvety elongated fronds.

They walked on stone paths lit by molten rock, oozing a red-tinted glow.

Though the landscape here was harsher, dryer, there was an eerie stillness to the quiet.

The court was completely, entirely empty.

Summer had nocturnal animals and calm, but active weather.

The Garrison, though it kept daylight hours, still had the odd patrolling Watchmen or cluster of moths over a street lamp.

Day was devoid of life. No moths. No crawling things or furry rodents. That one detail made the scene otherworldly, more than the heat or the sand. The sky wasn’t as shrouded as in Summer and she could see the expanse of the night sky. During daylight, the sun would be merciless.

“Where is everything?”

She could hear Drake’s sigh even with his five-foot lead on her. “Where is the Miranda who despised conversing with me? She didn’t feel the need to ask every question that came to mind.”

Miranda tore her eyes from the beauty around them, her temper flared, but she reigned it back. Mostly because it felt wrong to shout in such an eerily still place. “It was just a question.”

Drake rounded on her, forcing her to stop or crash into him.

His eyes were drawn, haunted, and there was no smile or glint of mischief.

“And I don’t know the answers. In case you missed it, I’m not exactly thrilled to be here.

These courts are nothing but isolating cages to keep fae in and everyone else out.

Why do you think they don’t allow carriages or streets in here?

Because the fae don’t want outsiders poking around. ”

“But you’re not an outsider.”

His hand rested on his hip, the other scraping over his face. “I am not fully fae, Miss Wilde.”

“But that doesn’t matter anymore, the world—”