Merrick whistled low as he surveyed our surroundings. He told me on the walk up the steps that he’d never been in Florra, but that if it was anything like Sparrow’s home, he would love it. I smiled at that but said nothing–especially because I always thought of Florra as my home more than the Palaces I grew up in. Hearing him echo that sentiment… I knew that feeling, so similar to when Sparrow and I first came here–like anything was possible in this charmed, peaceful place that captured hearts.
I unfurled my wings, feeling the cool night breeze trail across them. Next to me, Merrick did the same, sighing, as he reveled in the chill. “Follow me,” I said innocently before launching into the sky with a swift movement. He whooped and barreled over the ledge of the patio, reaching my altitude in two pumps. I leveled out, letting him catch up, as I lazily glided through a bolstered draft that rolled off the far away mountain range. Merrick shouted over the roar of the wind, “I’ll go slow, sweetheart, so you can keep up.”
Oh, no. Challenge on.
I shot him a wicked grin before lurching higher into the sky, rolling out into a straight nosedive as I searched for an updraft to ride. I heard him curse as I dropped low, and before he could collect himself enough to speed up, I found what I needed. As fast as a loosened arrow, I shot out straight towards Florra’s dense forest with an exhilarated shriek, my black wings sleeker and more agile than his, giving me a massive advantage.
Merrick furiously tried to catch me, but I raced on, more nimble than a falcon, past the sleeping city, towards the twelve waterfalls churning mist into the air on the outskirtsof the city.
As the largest finally came into view, its tumbling water crushing the sleek rocks below, I landed gracefully on the lip of the falls, perching precariously on a slick-with-moss stone that time and condensation warped flat, waiting on a defeated Merrick. My eyes traveled down to the base of the waterfall, where a winding river dumped into the sea beyond the coast.
He landed a few moments later, his chest rising and falling rapidly, though I watched him fight to keep his breathing even. I gave him a simpering look. “That’s for calling me ‘sweetheart.’”
Merrick rolled his eyes, “Well, what should I call you then?”
“My Queen,” I replied simply before leaning back, spreading my arms wide, and plummeting towards the river below.
Chapter thirty-one
Merrick
Merrickbarelyhadabeat to catch his breath before Esmeray vaulted over the edge of the falls, her midnight wings tucked tight at her side. He yelled in panic, the stitch in his side causing it to come out more like a garbled gasp, as his best friend’s mate plunged towards the sharp rock outcropping at the base of the waterfall. He scrambled to the lip, falling to his knees when his feet slipped dangerously against the moss, searching for Esmeray amongst the silvery mist. He watched her snap her wings out a second before she dashed against the stones, shooting up perfectly parallel to the barreling waterfall, landing lightly at his side.
“You are fuckinginsane,” Merrick panted, leaning back and resting his palms on his knees as he fought to calm his racing heart.
She grinned at him, her bright eyes sparkling like the stars dotting the sky above them. “I had no one to teach me aerial maneuvers.” Nonchalantly, she ran her fingers through the hair caught in the spiral of her horns, shaking the strands away from the curl until they cascaded down her back once more. “After a few tried and failed attempts, I learned that the air coming off a waterfall is a great training exercise to hone agility–especially with the pressure off the initial plummet. You should try it.”
“I’ve trained as a soldier my entire life,” Merrick retorted flatly, straightening and flexing his wings out. “I’ve outflown every other gargoyle in my legion. Why do you think your father chose me for his King’s Guard? Because I’m pretty?”
“Then it should be easy for you, oh grand King’s Guard,” Esmeray goaded, showing off perfectly white teeth with those slightly lengthened fangs that fae possessed–just a tad longer and sharper than Merrick’s own gargoyle canines. She gestured to the waterfall. “Just jump. And spread your wings to catch the wind at the last second. See if you can shoot straight up and land…here.” She toed an “X” against the moss with her boot, making a target.
Merrick sighed roughly. Hewasbeing serious–the King had indeed seen Merrick’s flying abilities as tactical, and Merrick trained countless other gargoyles to fly as well as he did.
And here was this saucy little Queen explaining to him the best way to leap off a waterfall. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
Merrick advanced closer to the edge, swallowing down a snide remark, before backing up three paces. With a battle cry that woke half the birds nesting in the woods behind him, he took a running jump and free fell. The world tipped on its axis as Merrick was buffeted by the strong pressure of wind coming off the waterfall, and he swore as he flipped his wings up and launched skyward, nowhere near the straight trajectory Esmeray displayed annoyingly effortlessly. Backflapping hard to stop himself from careening into the tree branches on the opposite bank, knowing he’d never hear the end of it, he cursed again, filthier this time–a word he left for special occasions…like getting his King’s Guard warrior ass handed to him. Still swearing, he glided back over to a ridiculously gleeful Esmeray.
“Show me again,” he growled.
She obliged, thankfully, without saying a word of his failed attempt–even though she did add a degree more pomp to her “lesson” as she twirled over the edge.
He watched her fall, memorized the angle, the twist of her body, how she used her wings to fall faster–but as more of a counterweight. And finally–the way she snapped her wings open, riding the gust that rose over the rocks before she shot up again and landed right next to him on the “X” pressed into the thick moss.
She bowed.
Merrick felt a muscle jump in his jaw. “I’m going to figure out how you did that. I’m trying again.”
It took him six more embarrassingly failed attempts before he managed a decently straight shot into the sky, and eight more after that to perfect it. Esmeray had taken the opportunity as he either crash landed next to her or disentangled himself out of various trees to sit on a rock and give him offhand pointers while using magic to grow and shape her nails.
“That one was much better.” Esmeray gave him a look of approval as she tapped her now three-inch long, dagger-sharp, black fingernails against her horn, testing their strength.
“It’s not as easy as it looks. I’ll be the bigger male and admit you may have bested me at waterfall jumping,” Merrick ground out, hands on his hips. With no proper flight training, she was already faster than himandmore agile. Gods, whyhadn’ther father trained her as a warrior? She would have run circles around the gargoyles in the aerial legion.
His questions must have shown on his face because she climbed down off the rock she had been lounging on, the starlight above illuminating their surroundingsgently. She moved to the grassy edge of the waterfall and sat, legs swinging over the rim. He stepped to her side and eased down next to her, still picking small pieces of bark and tree needles out of his hair. “I know you were stationed at the Opal Palace, but the male that trained you, honed you as a weapon, and encouraged you as a warrior was not the same male I dealt with growing up. My father was…strict with me. Moreso than he was with Adara. When my magic began to show, he was ecstatic to continue his lineage–as any fae would be when their child was born to a gargoyle mother. But when he realized my gifts were given by a different god than his, he did not take the news well.”
Merrick pulled blades of grass out of the earthy ground and let them drift over the waterfall, watching as they disappeared into the billowy mist below. “Your fae lineage had gifts from the God of Water, Beyos, right?”
