“Here now, you look cold.” Nimai drew a cloak from the air, fox fur and velvet, and draped it over Everil’s shoulders. “There. That’s better.”
“You’re too kind.”
Gray rock to coarse sand. A gust of chill wind, turning trees to smoke.
“Silly creature.” Nimai plucked a holly leaf from Everil’s hair, crushing it and dropping the fragments in the dirt. “What would you do without me?”
Ruin everything. Hurt the people he cared for most.
It was better that he was with Nimai now. Nimai knew how to put up with him. How to rein him in. And Bo was safe. Whatever the cost, to both of them, Bo was safe.
“Embarrass myself,” he said because he knew his lines. Amazing, how quickly it all came back.
Tolerable, as Bo had said. Easier than fighting.
“You needn’t fret about that. Not anymore. You’ve got me to take care of you. Everyone’s so happy to have you back. Haven’t you noticed?”
Nimai’s hand returned to Everil’s hair, and Everil’s skin crawled at thewrongnessof it. There was a time when he would have happily begged for even this much of Nimai’s affection. Would have prostrated himself for a half-hearted compliment or a gentle touch. He sat, still and gray as the missing stones, jaw tense and breathing steady.
“Yes,” he said. Agreement was generally safest.
“And why wouldn’t they be? You’ve been so pleasant these past days. So respectable.”
They should have thrilled him, those words. He’d tried so hard for so long to earn them.
“Thank you.”
“Come along now. Veroni and Kesk invited us to a little soiree. Most of the Council will be there. We can’t miss the opportunity to make a good impression. I fear you’ve left us with more than a little ground to make up.”
“I’ll be along,” Everil said. He didn’t want to leave what remained of Bo’s forest. Not yet.
“Now, Caroves.”
Everil flinched at the use of his true name, bracing himself for the lash of hunger, of power taken until the world went white. It didn’t come. Nimai wasn’t his bond. Not yet. Somehow, the anticipation remained.
“Of course,” he said, rising to his feet. “I wouldn’t wish to make us late.”
“Don’t fret, my love. I’m not angry. You’re doing your best.” He set his arm on Everil’s, grip gentle. “Now, then. Let’s show everyone that it’s all in the past, shall we? I’m so pleased with you.”
Everil bowed his head and matched Nimai’s steps with his own, unobjecting. He had told Bo once, that he was the river. But as they walked away from the barren remains of what had once been flowing water, Everil couldn’t remember what that meant.
A palace of ice,down to the flowers in the gardens and the tame crystalline animals that circulated among the guests. Veroni and Kesk had made their territory brutally cold, each breath clouding the air, turning to snow, and falling. The guests, in deference to the theming, wore white or blue, rich furs and trailing dresses.
At the center of it was Veroni, looking like a statue of silver and ivory. Ethereal and perfect, her gown the red and orange of flame.
It made for a dramatic display.
Everil wore a suit, tailored and precise. Meticulous, in the way of Nimai’s magics. But even he couldn’t convince Faerie on the topic of color. Pale gray, accented with silver, in place of the stark white the brownie had intended.
“No matter,” Nimai said, patting Everil’s arm as they left one chattering group and headed toward the next. “The subtlety suits you. Do try to smile a bit more, my love.”
Everil smiled.
“That’s better. Now, we best say hello to our hostess. She’ll be so glad to see you again. Without distractions.”
WithoutBo.When last Everil had faced Veroni, she had insulted his bond and betrayed Everil’s trust. And now he would smile and shake her hand and tell her how lovely she looked.
Pathetic.
