“Then tell me what it is.”
“I can’t.” He shakes his head, his voice firm. “But some doors should never be opened. Some power isn’t worth the price.”
The Truth Fire across the room crackles dark gray, and Oliver’s face goes pale. But before I can push further, the orchestra shifts to a waltz, and someone appears at our table.
“Jade! Oliver!” Alessandra Sterling materializes beside us in a Greek goddess costume, her honey blonde waves crowned with roses, her smile sweet enough to rot teeth. “How wonderful to see you two hitting it off so well.”
“Alessandra.” I try not to sound as thrilled as I feel, which is not at all. “Let me guess—Aphrodite?”
“The goddess of love.” She does a little twirl that makes me want to gag, then helps herself to a glass of wine. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m so happy for you and Oliver. Especially since other relationships are...” She glances at the Revelation Flame, where Logan and Callie have moved closer to each other and are having a heated conversation. “Rekindling.”
Electricity stirs under my skin.
The sphere,I remind myself.Think about the glass sphere, and don’t electrocute the mean girl, no matter how tempting.
“Logan and Callie have been inseparable lately,” Alessandra continues. “Studying in all those cozy library corners, just like old times.”
“Fascinating,” I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds. “I had no idea you spent so much time watching other people study. That must be really fulfilling for you.”
Her smile tightens. “I’m just observant.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” I match her sweet tone. “Because where I come from, we call it stalking.”
Oliver clears his throat. “Ladies?—”
But Alessandra isn’t done. “Oh! And speaking of old times...” She gestures at the Memory Flame in a nearby alcove. The orange fire flickers and shifts, forming shadows of two figures pressed close together, one tilting the other’s head back in an intimate gesture. “The flames have such wonderful stories to tell, don’t they?”
The image dissolves before I can study it closer, but the implication hangs heavy in the air.
“Well!” She sets down her empty glass with a crystalline clink. “I should go back to Callie. Can’t leave my emberlinked partner alone for too long.” She turns to Oliver. “You understand how that is. The connection is just so... deep.”
She floats away in a cloud of rose perfume and spite, leaving me wanting to set something on fire. Preferably her. Or Callie. Either will do.
Oliver watches Alessandra leave with genuine confusion splattered across his face. “Why did Alessandra Sterling just come over here to tell you about Logan and Callie?” he asks, suspicion lacing his tone.
“No idea,” I lie, scanning the room for literally anything else to focus on.
Evie’s near the dance floor, laughing at something Felix is saying. Her bronze armor catches the light as she tips her head back, more relaxed than I’ve seen her all night.
But I’m not the only one watching their conversation. Because Kieran lurks in the shadows near the Spirit Flame, which is twisting and writhing, forming shapes that look like swords crossing in battle. And when Felix touches Evie’s elbow to guide her to the dance floor, the fire briefly forms what might be a fist clenching.
Weird. Why’s Kieran looking at Evie like that? It’s almost as if?—
“It’s good to see my sister actually enjoying herself for once,” Oliver yanks me out of my thoughts, his gaze softening as he watches Evie with Felix. “Anyway, do you want to dance? Before Alessandra comes back with more poison to spread?”
“Sure.” I absently let him take my hand and lead me forward, glancing over my shoulder just in time to see Kieran stalk back into the shadows.
We barely make it three steps before a vision in scarlet silk blocks our path.
“Oliver!” Avery’s voice is breathier than usual, pitched to carry over the orchestra. Her costume—Cleopatra, if the gold snake armband is any indication—clings to every curve, the dress cut low enough that I find myself looking at the ceiling out of secondhand embarrassment. “You look amazing.”
Beside her, Tyler Brennan stands in a Caesar costume that makes him look like he stepped off a movie set. He’s handsome in that obvious way—golden hair and a usually perfect smile. But currently, he’s watching Avery watch Oliver with the resigned expression of someone who knows exactly where he stands in this particular drama.
“Avery. Tyler.” Oliver’s voice is polite but distracted. “Great costumes.”
“We coordinated,” Avery says, although her eyes never leave Oliver’s face. “Tyler suggested it. He’s so thoughtful that way.” She touches Tyler’s arm and smiles up at him.
Tyler’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What can I say? I aim to please.”
