Page 46

For a moment, she lost her grip on the heat of him, her lungs catching fire as she stared into his eyes.

The smoke and steam and flame overtook her thoughts as she tried to cling to refreshing images.

Waterfalls, the first frost of Winter, a plunge into the Empyrean Sea.

Unfortunately, that thought only led her right back to the springs in Celene, the steam rising from the pool around Lux’s bare shoulders.

Something knocked against her ribs, that same force from the springs, begging her to move even closer. She inhaled, shaking off the haze. She swallowed. Hard.

“Did Mirquios mention coming home?”

Lux winced. “I believe they will soon. They’ve reached an agreement with the Plutonian Prince, Arcas, but he seemed concerned with some terms still. He’s only writing half of what he means these days, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

And she was sure that Lux had noticed that they had written little to each other at all after the first few weeks. The thought gnawed at her as they spun, a knot forming in her gut. “Luxuros?—”

“Princess!” A horde of giggling girls rushed them, their little pointed ears pierced with sparkling hoops that bounced up and down as they all spoke at once.

“One at a time,” she called over them as Lux backed toward Ehlaria, reclaiming their space near her throne.

One girl stepped forward, the ringleader of their glittering circus.

“We want to paint you!” She looked at their hands, chubby purple fingers gripped around long wooden brushes. Several jars of golden paint threatened to escape from two overly excited little ones. She stooped to her knees, letting them have at her arms, the wildfire in her mind burning out.

The brushes tickled against her shoulders and hands, glimmering swirls inking across her skin.

“Okay! Okay,” she laughed, pushing a hand away before it threatened to coat half her face. “I think I am sufficiently gilded!”

The girls admired their work before moving on to claim their next victim, disappearing in a whoosh of giggles and bare feet against oak. She reached for her goblet from Lux, who watched in amusement as she wiped paint away from her ear.

“How do I look?” she joked, swigging whatever remained of her wine.

Lux cleared his throat, his eyes drifting over the tangle of branches around her ribs. “Exactly as a Fire Queen should.”

“Why do they call you that?” Ehlaria chirped from behind them, leaning over her throne. The lilt from her throat suggested she was speaking more freely than she otherwise might have. “Don’t they know it’s not fire?”

“What?” She twisted around, Lux mirroring her confusion.

“Well.” She pursed her lavender lips. “I suppose it is fire in the end,” she corrected herself. “But you must know, you must realize, dear girl, that it’s not merely fire.” Ehlaria rose, stepping toward them, bangles ringing against each other.

“Then what is it?” Astra asked.

Ehlaria only looked to Lux, who choked on a breath. “You cannot mean it’s sunlight,” he croaked. Ehlaria watched them both, a soft smile slipping over her delicate features. Lux argued, “That’s not?—”

Ehlaria held up her ancient hand. “It’s very possible.”

Astra gasped, her head swirling. “How could that even be?”

“Young Luxuros here was not the only one in The Flare, Astra. You may have been safely tucked away in your mother’s womb, but you were every bit as present for Leona’s death as he was.”

“You were there?” She turned to Lux. Her heart might have actually stopped beating.

“I… I’m not sure.” He shook his head, his own confusion so palpable she had no choice but to believe him. So rarely did he lose his grip on his guard.

“I assumed you’d have sorted that out weeks ago,” Ehlaria stared between them. “You’ve never been one for patience.”

“Me? What can I do?”

Ehlaria rolled her eyes. “You mean to tell me you finally figured out how to go within and you wasted all your energy on me?”

“I didn’t mean to do it!” Astra cried, a rush of adrenaline sending her heart back to a brutal pace.

She smirked. “There are no accidents, darling.”

“What is she talking about?” Lux finally formed a full question.

Ehlaria gestured between them. “You can help him remember, Astra.” She glared at the commander.

“ You just have to let her in. She would be a powerful tool for you, Luxuros.” Something passed between them Astra couldn’t grasp hold of.

“Don’t get hung up on it now, Astra. Tonight is a celebration. Enjoy it. Both of you.”

She twisted away, finding her footing under the sweet melodies of the fiddle behind them as she danced away.

Lux rested a hand on the back of his neck, unsure what to make of this new information.

“It makes sense,” she said. “The Flare and all.”

“Of course.” He nodded.

“You look out of place, now,” she said to Lux, pointing to the abandoned jars of paint. She snatched a brush and held it up, waiting for him to protest.

But he didn’t.

They were both desperate for a distraction. Lux rolled the sleeves of his tunic up and held his arms out for her.

“No obscenities or appendages,” he said, arching a brow.

She cackled a rather unbecoming sound as she dunked the brush into the glittering paint.

Astra dragged the brush’s thin side over his forearms, swirling along in slithering rivers and matched the strokes on his other arm.

The gold pigment flooded the valleys between scars, covering the evidence of his spat with Daria and the hatchlings in Ellume.

“That’s what it feels like,” she said as she set the brush down. “In my veins, when the sunlight rushes through.” He rotated both arms, flexing his hands as the lines shimmered under the torches.

“It’s also how it feels,” he returned, leaning closer to her. “When I’m sucked out of my dreams and thrown into hot springs and gardens.”

Astra’s mouth dried out, the nausea rising from her stomach and fluttering into her lungs. Her inner and outer worlds competed for who could flush a deeper shade of pink.

“You two coming?” Loleena pranced by, several elves falling into a line up the oak stairs, goblets of wine in their spindly lavender fingers.

Astra was happy to follow her, grateful for anything else to focus on.

They climbed through rustling leaves and glowing orbs of light until they reached a break in the treetops.

A series of round decks spanned the village, each connected with footbridges that flowed under amber lights.

Hundreds of elves made their way to the treetops, rustling paper lanterns in their hands.

“Grab one!” Loleena pointed to baskets overflowing with lifeless lanterns, painted with curved shapes and flowers that made Astra’s heart twist and yearn for something she didn’t quite understand.

Lux plucked two from a basket and pushed them toward the edge of the deck, leaning over the rail to look below as more elves journeyed up the steps.

Loleena explained, “You make a wish as you light them and let them free. The winds will carry them to your ancestors in the Court Above.”

Lanterns floated up into the night sky around them, splattering the black velvet with glowing spots, dancing gently on the breeze. Music started again, this time slower, pensive, a soft rise and fall of notes that gripped Astra’s heart.

“Can I get a light?” Lux’s eyes dropped to her fingers.

“Only if you tell me what you’re wishing for,” she laughed, a considerable effort given how tight her throat was as it filled with questions she dared not ask herself.

Loleena’s head whipped around, preoccupied with her own lantern but always listening. “Don’t tell her! The wish should be a sacred secret between your soul and the ones that came before you.”

“Well damn,” Lux chuckled. “I would have told you, but it’s against the rules.” She swatted at his arm, sending a tiny stream of fire, or rather sunlight, to her fingertip. She touched the candle inside softly and it sparked to life, washing Lux in a soft glow.

He held up her lantern as she lit the candle, passing it back as they turned to look over the trees, hundreds of lanterns taking off from the whispering branches.

Lux sent his skyward and her mind turned toward the last wish she requested from the gods, standing ankle-deep in the sea with Mirquios. She thought she’d wanted him—needed him—to accomplish what she dreamed of.

But the gods did not agree. This time, as she pushed the lantern into the plume of lights, she did not make a wish.

She asked a question.

What do you want from me?

“A million wishes,” Lux said beside her, resting his arms against the banister as sparkling lights arose around them. “What do you think your chances are?”

“Slim,” she laughed. “But not none.”

Lux’s eyes settled on her face as she watched another wave of lanterns bubble up over their heads.

“That sounds about right,” he agreed.