“Ouch,” Micheline says, smirking. “That bad?”
I roll my eyes and take another sip of tart wine. “I wish I got a Godbeast that listens and doesn’t talk back,” I whine, dropping my forehead onto the bar surface.
“Instead, you got a handsome, mysterious, brooding mountain of muscle that commands shadows with a habit for dramatic entrances during the most dire times,” Micheline says, pouring herself a glass of whiskey. “What an awful exchange.”
My head jerks up, but before I can argue how horrible Kaelzar really is, Micheline raises her glass.
“To your victory, Raylane!” she shouts so loudly that many heads turn toward us. “You’re our ray of light! So we drink to your vows.”
The music stops. The clamor ceases. I whirl around, bewildered, only to see dozens of glasses raised in the air. It’s a shift I hadn’t expected.
“To Calcatra’s future you promised us all,” Micheline continues.
I brace for the worst—for resentment, for skepticism, the moment the illusion of their hope shatters just like it did during the Spectra Judicium. But it doesn’t. Instead, they call out.
“To the future!”
“To the future!”
“To our ray of light!”
Voices ring out, not in eerie unison like the Sibyls’ but lively, filled with passion, hope, and something dangerously close to reverence. Afew patrons slam their coins on the bar, offering to pay for my next drink, for my meal.
I lift my glass sheepishly, as my pulse stutters, my grip tightening around the glass as an old instinct kicks in: withdraw, fade into the background, don’t make yourself a target.
I blink rapidly against the sting in my eyes and quickly turn away, hunching over my drink as if that might make me smaller, might help me disappear before they realize I don’t deserve their faith.
But then… I hesitate.
Their cheers are full of something I never expected: warmth. Their eyes hold no fear, no suspicion, no disdain. Instead, they celebrate me. And I dare to hope they might even pray to Calista.
The music resumes, and the thumping of feet behind me tells me that most of the patrons have returned to dancing, moving in time with the fast-paced melody. I finish my glass and put it down, welcoming the warmth loosening my limbs.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. I tap a finger against the rim of my glass, grasping for something else to latch onto.
Then, finally, I find it. “If I don’t come back, will you watch over Peonica?”
Micheline chuckles. “That girl doesn’t need a babysitter. She’s a force all on her own.” She leans in. “Do you know why she isn’t here? She pickpocketed so much coin off the noblemen during the event I had to get her a carriage just to haul all the supplies she bought. Right now, she’s smuggling it through the small holes in the forest-side fence.”
I close my eyes, forcing back the barbed words on my tongue.
How could Micheline let her do it alone? But there’s no stopping Peonica, no matter what anyone says or does.
Hopefully, one day soon, she won’t have to risk her life ever again. I’ll make sure of it. Somehow.
“Good,” I say after another sip. “And just so you know, I’m not planning on losing. After the Red Hunter’s speech today, I can’t lose,” I sigh and then add quietly, “even if it means becoming something I never wanted to be.”
Micheline nods solemnly, then her gaze flicks over my shoulder,and she smiles. “And after your speech today, I think you’ve got yourself a flock of faithful worshipers.”
I barely have a moment to glance back when someone grabs me by my hand, a bold move, even after watching me take Kaelzar’s hand at the Spectra Judicium, and pulls me into the dance.
I mean to refuse, to pull away, ready to draw back my Decay magic if it so much as begins to spread, but the warmth from the spirit is already moving through my feet, giving them a mind of their own.
They carry me into the middle of the small, cheering, clapping crowd.
I twirl, clapping to the rhythm like everyone else. Music pours over me like an invisible plush blanket meant for comfort.
Smiles. So many trusting smiles, all around me, and I want to drown in their bliss. A laugh bubbles from my lips, sweet and unrestrained, and I realize it’s been so long since I’ve laughed so freely.
