“In her altered state?”
“It’s not unsafe, Lex. Leave it.”
“What’s unsafe?” Jesstin asked, but he was drawn toward movement in the center of the arena, and he had his answer. Bodies flew through the air in fluid bends, connecting with other bodies, arcing and dancing through space. It reminded him of the way stars sometimes streamed across the heavens, flashes of brilliant, dazzling light.
Like stars, the bodies were connected to nothing but the sky.
“Aerialists,” Ryquin explained. “Part skill, part magic, part wonder.”
“Where are the ropes?” Jesstin asked.
“Why would they need ropes?”
Jesstin had seen acrobats before, when the traveling circus had come through Riverchapel. But they’d been performing on a smaller stage, connected by supports.
Elloven flounced onto the seat beside him after Ryquin moved over one. She squinted, scrunched her face, then squinted again, wriggling like she couldn’t get comfortable.
“You, uh, all right over there?” he asked from the corner of his mouth. Lexsea pinched his thigh. He knew the strength to repel her existed somewhere within him, but she’d blocked access.
“I don’t know. I expect so?” Elloven ran her hands down the arm of the chair, her wide eyes following the aerialists. “I used to be so good at this.”
“At what?”
“That.” She tipped her head at the performers.
Jesstin’s brows shot upward. “You? You were an aerialist?”
Elloven’s harried hands slid faster down the wood, like they needed something to do. “My mother taught me. I never met anyone else who could do it.”
“This is their practice. For the Odeon of the Heavens,” Ryquin said. “Though, quite sadly, they’re down a performer tonight due to an unfortunate accident, so we might end the evening disappointed if they can’t muster a replacement quickly...”
“Ryquin.” Lexsea sighed and shook her head.
Elloven’s mouth hung wider. The aerialists had caught her in a spell, and the joy was written all over her. He wished he’d remembered her when times were simpler, before the world had tried to destroy them both. All he had were flashes of the redheaded girl who had indulged his and Gennady’s nonsense. “I would have so loved to see it.”
“They’re practicing, aren’t they?” Jesstin asked, trying to pretend Lexsea’s fingertips weren’t crawling slowly inward as everyone watched and did nothing.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’ve never lost a fight before. Why start now?” Gennady barked.
Jesstin couldn’t risk answering aloud. Because all my energy is directed toward not fucking her right here in front of all of Rivenholde.
But Gennady was gone, again. He’d been slipping in and out in brief flashes since they’d entered Rivenholde, as though he couldn’t hold his connection the way he did back home.
Elloven looked directly at him for the first time since she’d joined the group. Her gaze traveled to his leg; her eye twitched at the corner as she frowned. “It’s good to see you’ve found your own amusements here.”
“It’s not what—” Jesstin grimaced. Did no one else care that Lexsea was practically servicing him right there? Or were they judging him for how poorly he was deflecting it, how he wasn’t saying no? If they had any idea the self-control he was clinging to in that moment, he’d be given a fucking medal. “Look, Lexsea, I need...”
“Need what, love?”
“Oh, quit it, will you?” Ryquin groaned. “You’ve made your point, Lex.”
Lexsea snatched her hand back with a huff.
Jesstin wilted. The tension dissolved from his body in a flash.
Elloven swayed in her seat, blinking erratically like the messy socialites who appeared on the Row in hopes of scandalizing everyone by their presence. But when she turned her head his way again, she seemed clearheaded. “Was she touching you without your permission?”
The question was so brazenly astute for someone in her state that, at first, he thought she was mocking him. He never got to answer, because two aerialists in skintight gold suits joined them in their box.
