I turned in my seat, facing forward on Quin once more, so I would not see Harkin’s reaction. I couldn’t bear to gaze upon the fondness in his endless brown eyes.
“Claudian wishes to use your mágik and leave you for dead. I did not know for sure until today, but I have long suspected, and I am sorry that I was not forthright.” Moments passed, then, with resolution, “I’m sorry, and I will fight with you.”
The weight of his words hit me squarely in the chest—the position this would put him in. I convinced myself that he fought for his family alone, to protect them first and always. I convinced myself that these words, too, might be lies, because when it came down to it, I could trust only myself. I would hope for his help, but I would not count on it.
The trees continued to thin until Equinox strode through the tall grasses of a long plain. A great city of stone and stained glass and rose wrapped trellises rose before us. Bird song called to my waiting ears, voices carried on the breeze from far in the distance.
The sun was bright and shining, somehow larger than I had ever seen it. Its warm light limned the stone walls in a wash of gold. If I had not known any better, I would have imagined this place a utopia.
Harkin directed us away from the large gate at Acsilla’s western wall, instead guiding Quin through an entrance made of crumbledstone and covered in thick ivy. He dismounted and pushed it aside so we could pass.
“Claudian will be monitoring the gates,” Harkin explained. “If we are to catch him by surprise, he cannot know we have arrived.”
Chapterthirty-two
Seren
The Kingdom of Acsilla was like nothing I had ever seen. As the tired winter sun sank toward the horizon, the streets became awash in golden lantern light that sparkled impossibly bright. Mágikal orbs of pinks and greens and purples floated above our heads. The heavily trodden cobblestone had an almost indescribable implication of community. I could see the lives of the people who lived here reflected in every detail around me.
I reached, stretching my arm high above me. My fingertips just barely brushed the orb closest to me. The mágik felt cold and hot against my skin—a paradoxical sensation. It lasted only a moment before the orb twisted away, floating on an unseen path.
It reminded me of the Tünécris mágik of the forest spring. It brought back memories of my own mágik, glowing brilliant silver. Not simply control over water, but over the tides themselves. My power akin to the celestial bodies we worshipped.
We rounded another bend, our bodies close. His hip brushed mine with every step. The back of his hand skimmed my fingers with every breath.
Banners and lights and music filled my sight, the street before us alive with color and mágik. Booths lined the rough worn cobblestone, sizzling meats and sweet-smelling crepes luring me as mystomach rumbled—greedy. Vendors hawked their wares, hoping to entice the milling citizens to purchase from their stands.
“Harkin, please! I’m starved.” I looked hopefully to Harkin, who acquiesced without argument. The last time we had properly eaten was the day prior, in the cottage we had shared.
He pulled a coin pouch from his pocket, sifting through and dropping them into my outstretched hand. The coins were warm from his body, and they settled in my palm like fruit, ripe for the harvest. “Choose whatever you like.”
I considered the fare around us, options aplenty. Sweet and savory flavors called to the hollow of my stomach. I decided not to choose at all and purchased everything that caught my eye.
Hearty fish stew—a childhood favorite of mine—burst across my tongue in a comfort of familiar flavors. Charred lamb on skewers was rich and earthy, satisfying in its greasiness. Tender beef goulash melted in my mouth, and I hummed in appreciation. “Oh Goddesses, you have to try this.”
We passed the dishes back and forth, sharing our finds with an ease and comfort that surprised me. I supposed it shouldn’t, since we had regularly taken our meals together, but I expected to feel differently given the events of the last day.
“I’m stuffed. You can’t convince me to try another bite,” Harkin groaned, hand resting over his belly.
The sweet smell of sugar and fruit wafted toward us. Pastries in every flavor beckoned me closer, and I turned to Harkin with a smile. “Maybe just one more?”
He laughed, and the sound was sweeter than any dessert.
The crowd had grown thick, citizens of Acsilla pouring into the streets to celebrate the festival over a delicious dinner and to admire the colorful bursts of mágik which lit up the ever darkening sky.
I took hold of Harkin’s arm so we would not get separated, fingers curving around the swell of his bicep. I pulled him toward the baker's booth with purpose. I looked up at him, barely catching the odd look on his face as he gazed at me. He quickly schooled his features, turning his eyes toward the pastries with feigned consideration.
Coins were traded for sweet cheese and apple strudels. As the flavor of the first bite washed over my senses, my eyes drifted shut, and I sighed happily. Our country might be at war—murder on the minds of many—and mágik a tremulous thing I had only just grasped, but a sweet treat such as this would never fail to make me feel like everything might be alright.
I held the pastry out to Harkin, and he tasted it straight from my hand. His lips brushed my sugar-sticky fingers, and my smile vanished. My breath caught.
The noise Harkin made as he sank his teeth into flaky dough and spiced apple was utterly indecent. I bit my lip to keep from doing something stupid like pulling him closer.
I took a moment to consider what it might be like, to live like this always. If we succeeded in halting Claudian’s plan, I could live my life here among the circling streets and bustling community. I could have sweet pastries and true smiles as often as I liked.
I could be happy.
We strode silently as we polished off our strudels, quiet in our considerations. We turned onto lonely streets as the heart of the festival drew further away.
