Faebound (Faebound, #1)

by Saara El-Arifi

The only thing she did keep on her was a small gold ring sewn into the lining of her uniform. It had no sentimental value for her, but she knew that, should she fall in battle, the ring would be rightfully claimed by the young children who made a living scavenging from the corpses of the army. With that ring, the children would be able to feed themselves for a year. Yeeran had spent many years of her childhood hoping to find such a boon.

The child stood still, awestruck by the gold coin in her hand. Then she said the most unexpected thing. ‘They sold me for less than this.’

‘Know this,’ Salawa said. ‘You are the fire of my heart, and the beat of my drum. I am yours under moonlight. Until the rhythm sings no more.’

‘Salawa—’ But her lover was gone once more. The look she gave Yeeran was all chieftain. She knew then she would never see the face of her lover again.

She smiled and withdrew the mahogany drum, Salawa’s last parting gift. ‘You are the fire of my heart, and the beat of my drum,’ she whispered the vow to the forest. ‘I am yours, Chieftain Salawa, under moonlight. Until the rhythm sings no more.’

‘In addition, you will never be allowed to leave Mosima. You are tied to us and us to you.’

Under a waxing moon that no one can see, when the sun flares and twilight reigns. A burdened partnership will die when poison passes their lips. One gilded, one pearl.

Queens??

‘It is a cruel torture to let half of your soul soar, while the other is caged down here. Mercy is, after all, the antithesis of power.’

You look for ways to gain power over feelings that make you powerless.

‘A long time. Though it’s not what you think. We take pleasure in each other to sate our loneliness. But our love is one of deep friendship, nothing more.’

‘Did you know she was the one who shot drumfire into the crowd the day you left? Did you know she was the one who knocked me out so I couldn’t say goodbye?’

Then she said something that chilled Yeeran’s blood. ‘When we’re free, don’t become a prisoner to her love again.’

‘It is polite to acknowledge them, to respect them. Now touching an obeah.’ Nerad chuckled. ‘It’s an act between lovers.’

Yeeran thought of Amnan and Furi, how she had reacted when Yeeran had touched Amnan. How she hadn’t told me to stop.

It was the mahogany drum that Salawa had gifted to her on her first day as a colonel. ‘I had it reskinned, of course.’ Furi’s lips rose in distaste. ‘I thought it would be better for you than the drum you made.’

She wanted to taste every freckle on her skin. She wanted to explore every curve and shadow. As Furi’s gaze made contact with hers, a thought came to her.

Yeeran sighed, annoyed to see the expression of the commander back on her face. Just like Salawa, Furi was her title before anything else. But then Furi turned and said, ‘Wear red. It suits you.’

‘Who did this to you?’ Furi whispered. ‘The chieftain of the Waning district, when I was exiled for insubordination.’ Furi laughed and Yeeran loved the sound of it. ‘So, you’re not only disobedient with me.’ Yeeran muffled her smirk with a kiss. When she withdrew, Furi had turned pensive again. ‘I’ll kill her, you know. For doing this to you.’ Yeeran believed it. ‘No, she had to do it, it was the only way to let me live.’ ‘For that, she is in my debt then.’

Furi leaned forward and gently pressed her lips against the slits in Yeeran’s ears. Yeeran could hear her breath, steady and sure.

‘I always know if I follow the starlight, they’ll bring me home,’ Furi said. Then she kissed their clasped hands before releasing the star glider into the sky. Yeeran’s hand slipped behind her neck and pulled her closer. ‘My starlight,’ Furi whispered against her lips.

‘The queens are dead.’

Called it

‘Is it only at night that you let yourself feel?’ Yeeran said bitterly. Furi looked to the sea. She let out a small sigh and said, ‘All stars burn the brightest in the night.’

‘But all stars shine still, beneath the sun’s radiance in the light of day.’

‘But it’s not a choice, is it? I see you already inching your way backwards, closer and closer to your precious war. Go then. Let us part in anger, because I cannot part in love, it hurts too damn much.’