CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
EMBER
Whether casting fire, water, earth, or air, it’s fire that will flare an Elemental’s passions, fire which consumes them.
— Hector Ambrosia, Echelon to the
School of Elemental Magic
Skye and Rayne left for the tavern forty-five minutes before our reservation. The walk was only thirty, but Skye, who would rather back out of plans at the last minute than show up to an event five minutes after its start time, always padded her commute times. Because of this, Belinda and I were the last to arrive.
We found them at a ten-person table in the back corner of the dimly lit dining room, where a dozen foam-stained, glass tankards had been abandoned in front of empty, untucked chairs. Clearly the aftermath of what appeared to be a large, rowdy friend group, but it was just the two of them.
“Skye! Rayne!” Belinda shouted like she hadn’t seen them in hours, running up and hugging them. A few patrons glanced out the dark window behind them, as if expecting to find the always dry streets of Creatus blessed by a sudden summer rain.
I walked steadily forward, flexing my hands in the long sleevesof my blazer, my thoughts roaring louder than the din of the busy restaurant. I didn’t see Leland, but that didn’t stop me from being all too conscious of his presence, somehow knowing instinctively that he was somewhere in the communal, laid-back atmosphere of this building.
“Who else is here?” I asked casually, handing Rayne the birthday card Belinda insisted I sign.
“Many people.” Skye took a slow sip from her tankard and smirked at me over the rim. “I’m not sure who would be of interest.”
I braced myself with a tight breath and sat in the chair next to Skye, leaning forward a bit for her to sling her arm over my seat back. She was awfully at ease tonight considering she was sitting the wrong way. She never put her back to an entrance, not unless Nova was watching it, but Nova wasn’t there. Yet there Skye was, thighs parted in a relaxed position, nodding casually along as Belinda explained why my face shape was perfectly suited for my new curtain bangs.
“Are you feeling okay?” I muttered sideways.
“No,” Skye answered in a low voice. “Our moonale was laced with a guard-lowering potion called Uninhibitor that Belinda wants us to drink for her game. I think there’s going to be questions for like — I don’t know — getting to know each other or some shit?”
I stared out the window and said, “Super.” Drinking more Uninhibitor was the second-to-last thing I wanted to do, beating out only a fun game of taking turns giving each other forehead brands.
Skye pushed a tankard in front of me and whispered, “This one’s nonalcoholic and there’s no Uninhibitor in it, so basically it tastes like lead.”
Skye: my favorite person in the room. Maybe all of Everden. A question about the Echelons, Leland, or Nova, the Familiar Skyepretended didn’t exist, and who knew what would come flying out of my mouth and shooting all the way across the tavern.
Then I tasted it. My cheeks contracted, their one line of defense to prevent me from swallowing down more of the horrible, bitter-tasting liquid.
Secondfavorite person in Everden, I amended.
“Okay!” Belinda clapped. “Ready for rules?” She glanced around the table, and we all mumbled our replies in varying levels of enthusiasm. “Everyone rolls a ten-sided dice at the same time. Whoever rollsthe highestnumber gets to ask the lowest number any question they want, and the lowesthasto answer it. Everyone get it?”
I nodded, figuring if two people got the same number, we’d learn the new rule when it happened.
“Okay, now roll!”
Our four dice clattered across the table. Probably on purpose, Skye claimed her dice was cocked every time her number was low. Belinda was too sweet to stop her from re-rolling. I never got the lowest number. My dice rolled five every time. Belinda, already hiccuping, didn’t question it, even as she had to answer her favorite breed of cat was a house cat, her second favorite cat was a lynx, her third favorite cat was . . .
Rayne knew — both the game Skye was playing, and that I was only half in it. She caught me every time I turned to see if it was his voice I’d heard rising above the hum of light rock music, and every time I twisted back to the table after concluding it wasn’t, the right corner of her mouth twitched.
“Looking for someone?” she asked.
Skye yelled it was not her turn.
“Is Leland here?”
“He is,” said Rayne, her smile soft and supportive. “He went to play pool in the cellar.”
Belinda hiccuped. “Pool was supposed to start at eleven.”
