“For our protection, leave it on. I’m sure our contact will be masked as well.”
Elara’s laughter fizzled out, choked by the sudden reminder of reality. The note in her pocket felt like a weight, pulling her back from the night’s enchantment that had briefly let her forget. Unfolding the paper, her eyes scanned the words, grounding her. This wasn’t a festival jaunt; it was a search for Godfrey.
Dario scanned the pulsing crowd, then shifted his gaze back to Elara. “What now?”
“I’m not certain,” she confessed. “The message was rather cryptic.”
Dario tilted his head, leaning closer. “May I?”
She nodded, handing him the crumpled note. Elara watched as Dario’s eyes flicked rapidly across the paper. She could almost hear the words as he silently read them.“If you still seek answers, they will find you when the sun and moon embrace.”
His brows rose, and a playful glint appeared in his eyes as they fixed on a point just above her head. A grin spread across his face, and he leaned in slightly, whispering with a mock air of conspiracy.
“Sometimes the Fates have a funny way of being painfully obvious, don’t they?”
Elara turned, and her breath caught.
In the heart of the city stood a magnificent sculpture of the moon and sun entwined in an eternal orbit, hovering in the twilight. It looked like the work of master alchemists, blending the tangible and the ethereal. Light from the intricate metal designs bounced off nearby structures, and a soft glow hinted at the ether keeping them suspended. Gazing at it, she could almost feel the thrum of energy, like a pulse beneath her fingertips.
Elara sighed. “Let’s hope Fate shows its kinder side tonight.”
Chapter 13
Under the dance of sun and moon, Elara tapped her foot impatiently on the cobblestones, its rhythm drowned by the nearby minstrels’ lilting song.
All around the square, laughter mingled with the swish of costumes as masked revelers danced, lost in the moment. Her gaze flicked across the crowd, seeking a familiar face, even as the wine Dario had given her to soothe her nerves sat beside her, untouched.
Where was he?
Godfrey had left the details frustratingly vague, and with each ticking second, Elara's window of opportunity shrank. Her anxiety mounted as she chewed on her lip, scanning the bustling square. She couldn't just stand here doing nothing; she needed to act, and quickly. If she couldn't go directly to Godfrey, maybe there was a way to make him come to her.
She yanked at the ribbons securing her mask.
“What are you doing?” Dario's hand snapped out.
“He won’t recognize me with this on.”
Dario tensed, his grip tightening on his drink.
“We’re running out of time,” she urged, glancing at the moon’s position in the sky.
He exhaled slowly, the dim light catching the faint mist of his breath. “Fine, but if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right.”
Without waiting for her reply, Dario headed to a bustling stall adorned with golden liquids in ornate bottles. After a brief exchange with the vendor, he exchanged some coins for two shimmering drinks. Returning, he handed one to her and removed his mask, his eyes twinkling. “To bold choices,” he toasted, downing his drink in one gulp.
Elara lowered her mask, her attention drawn to the gleam of her drink, the fragrant notes of citrus and mint blending with the sharp bite of spirits in the air. She wrinkled her nose. Surely one drink wouldn’t wreak the same havoc as the entire bottle of whiskey she’d shared with Avis...
“Wait! You have to finish your wine first.”
She peered over the rim of her glass, one brow arched in bemusement. “And why’s that?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “It’s bad luck otherwise.”
“That’s absurd.”
“I swear on it. Ask anyone. If you begin your next drink without finishing the last, you’re doomed to reverse your dance steps all night.”
“You’re a liar, Dario Voland.”
