Page 15 of The Lost Art of Revealing Hidden Truths (The Lost Arts #3)

Chapter Seven

A lthough Brannal was effectively on patrol and keeping his eyes on so many people, he was willing to hold Perian’s hand with his left one, his right hand ready to grab his sword or practice whatever magic it was that could settle a situation if one came up.

They roamed the streets, sampling from a variety of vendors, because of course Perian couldn’t make up his mind and was lured in each time a new cart appeared. Brannal laughed and happily indulged him, splitting the food and always willing to finish something off if Perian didn’t like it.

But Perian usually liked it. There wasn’t a lot of food that he didn’t like, to be honest.

The crowd was huge, bigger than anything Perian had seen before.

The city had just been filling up like this when he first arrived, he remembered, the pubs starting to overflow before the Water Festival.

Only then Perian had been attacked, been rescued by Brannal, and convalesced through the whole festival.

So this was his first big city festival.

There was a huge central square, and Perian had never seen it this full of people.

There was a gigantic bonfire in the middle of the square.

The Festival of Fire wasn’t super practical for heat purposes in the middle of summer, but it matched the fiery and energetic mood .

Periodically, people threw more wood on the fire just to watch it leap higher.

“Do you and Cormal ever add fireballs?” Perian wanted to know.

Brannal nodded. “Usually, yes.”

“Do you… want to add fireballs right now?” Perian asked, a little more leadingly.

Brannal glanced at him, grinning. “I take it that means you’d like a demonstration?”

“If you were willing to give one, I would definitely enjoy watching it,” Perian admitted.

“Would you mind if we waited a bit?” Brannal asked.

“Of course not,” Perian said promptly.

Brannal hesitated for a moment. “It’s something Cormal and I usually do together.”

“Then of course you should do it together again,” Perian said, squeezing the man’s hand. “Just because we seem to annoy one another doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a good relationship with your Secundus.”

Brannal squeezed his hand back.

Perian still didn’t know what to make of the other man, but despite what Cormal seemed to think, Perian never went out of his way to antagonize him. Sometimes, it just seemed to happen regardless.

That made a thought occur to him.

“Do you usually come to the festival with Cormal?” he asked.

Brannal appeared surprised by the question. “We’re always on patrol.”

Perian eyed him. “But you and he used to both come and celebrate the fire together?” he tried again.

“Yes,” Brannal answered.

Brannal had never seemed to give any credence to the idea that Cormal cared for him in a way that could be jealousy-forming.

“Have you done that since you were kids?” Perian tried again.

Brannal nodded. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Oh, Brannal . Perian loved him to pieces, but maybe there was a small bit of him that felt sorry for Cormal.

The clueless man continued, “Some years one or the other or both of us are away, patrolling or dealing with an attack.”

As if that didn’t still make it a tradition when they were both here and available .

“Oh, look,” Perian said, pointing with his free hand. “Molun and Arvus. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I really would love to see you with those fireballs. If I stayed with Molun and Arvus, do you think you could find Cormal?”

Brannal looked bemused.

Perian wrapped his arms around him and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “You know how much I enjoy watching you with fireballs.”

A shiver ran through Brannal, and when Perian pulled back, his eyes were gratifyingly dark with desire. Perian winked at him.

“I’ll show you how much I like it afterwards, if you want.”

Yeah, there were no more questions about why Perian would want Brannal to find Cormal. The tall, imposing figure of his lover strode determinedly away, and Perian made his way over to Molun and Arvus. They each looped an arm through his, tucking him between them.

“Where’s Brannal gone?” Molun wanted to know.

“To find Cormal for me.”

“To find Cormal for you,” Molun repeated with exaggerated slowness. “I don’t think I understand.”

Perian laughed. “So they can do their fire thing together. Brannal said they do it every year.”

“Right,” Molun agreed.

“And now Brannal is here with me.”

“Right.”

“For the first time ever ,” Perian repeated. “So I sent him to find Cormal so they could keep the longstanding tradition they’ve had since they were kids.”

“Oh, Perian,” Molun said, face soft. “You’re so adorable, I almost don’t know what to do with you.”

“Almost?” Perian said.

But then he was enveloped in a hug, and he leaned into the other man, even happier when Arvus wrapped around him from the back.

“You have a big heart,” Arvus said.

It wasn’t the first time someone had said this to him, but Perian was pretty sure it was just the average sort of heart.

Arvus kissed the top of his head.

The hug went on for a nice long time, but then they resumed their walk, keeping an eye on everything.

Molun was on high alert, just like Delana, because they could put any fires out if anything got out of hand.

Apparently, it was one of the biggest risks during the Fire Festival, when people sometimes got a little too excited and forgot that fire could be as destructive as it could be amazing.

At least for the moment, though, everything seemed under control.

There was dancing, there was drinking, and there was the roar of the fire that was being given a pretty wide berth since it threw off so much heat.

Lots of kids were tossing small sticks into the fire, daring one another to run in, toss their fuel, and then run back.

There was a lot of laughing and squealing, and Perian loved to witness it.

There was also plenty of arousal to go around, so obvious that Perian didn’t think even Brannal could miss it.

Molun and Arvus certainly noticed—but they were used to looking for potential people to join them, so maybe they’d honed their skills like Perian had.

It was the sort of thing he’d noticed in the pubs on his periodic visits, but it seemed to get ramped up more for large gathering—and more still at Fire Festivals, where all that light and energy seemed to encourage…

vigorous action. There were people dancing and cuddling, walking hand-in-hand, finding a dark corner where they could kiss or maybe grope or possibly a little bit more, and it all buzzed around Perian, swirling in the air like the leaping of the flames at the center of the square.

Perian had always been good at picking out likely prospects at the pub, but he felt like his awareness had grown even more acute with all the time he’d spent in town.

“How did you celebrate the Fire Festival at home?” Arvus asked.

Perian laughed. “Oh, definitely not like this. There was a festival in town, of course, but we didn’t spend a lot of time there.

Usually, my father and I would set up a bonfire down by the water.

The reflections were always beautiful. We’d watch the sun set, and it would almost look like the water was on fire, all lit up for us.

Father always said it was a reminder to take all this goodness, to pull in all the warmth of the sun and the brightness and energy and to hold it inside of us to prepare us for the waning of the year.

And we’d always talk about what inspired us, what filled us up with energy to be ready for the months to come. ”

“And what fills you up with energy?” Molun asked, nudging him.

“Oh, Brannal, of course,” Perian answered promptly, making the other two smile.

“It feels like he could fill me up with energy forever.” He genuinely hoped that was an option.

“The two of you. Renny. Nisal. Delana and Bennan and Chamis—oh, all the friends I’ve made here.

You all make my life so much richer and fill it with so much energy that sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.

Everyone in the castle, really. Prince Horsey.

The memories of my first proper holiday with someone else.

Everything here fills me with energy and sustains me. ”

Molun hummed a happy noise, sounding like he was agreeing or maybe approving.

“What about you?” Perian asked Molun.

“Many of the same things. Arvus, always, first and foremost.” They exchanged a smile.

“My elements, even if they don’t always match with fire.

They’re like a storm swirling inside of me, always filling me with energy and guiding my way.

You and Brannal. All my friends. I’m very grateful for the life I have here. ”

“As am I,” Arvus agreed. “Molun is my bedrock, the earth beneath my feet that keeps me steady.”

Aww. Molun was, on the one hand, someone who seemed the least likely to be a bedrock for anyone, and yet Perian could see exactly how he supported Arvus, how they fit together and how they worked so well.

Arvus continued, “Like Molun, I’m so grateful for this life. Every moment that I spend with every one of you, that I’m able to protect people, I’m happy and fulfilled. I feel like this is an energy that will always carry me forward.”

They really were the best group of people Perian could ever have asked to find.

A fireball burst in the sky, making people cry out and point, and Perian felt the swell of excitement from the crowd, which surged forward, bringing Perian, Molun and Arvus with them to get closer to the bonfire.

Apparently, Brannal had been successful in finding Cormal.

Perian wasn’t short, but there were a lot of people between him and the bonfire, and some of them were as tall as he was. He could catch glimpses of Brannal and Cormal by the flames, closer than any non-Fire-Mage would ever want to get.