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“I think I preferred her mute.”
“Forgive me for trying to save your life, you ungrateful lug!”
lowly. There is no remorse in his voice.
Until this moment, I had not known my captor capable of humor. I sit frozen, stunned at the revelation, as he swings down from the saddle.
“She bears a Remnant mark.” Scythe’s blunt comment cuts through the cave like…well, like a scythe.
Unconsciously, I reach up and lay a hand over the fabric of my bodice, where the triangle of inky whorls is etched between my breasts. It’s begun to tingle, a cold pricking of the skin. As if it knows they are discussing it. As if it truly is imbued with some dormant ability.
You cannot hide your ears, but you must hide your birthmark. Understand?
Different is dangerous.
The redhead responds with a vulgar hand gesture.
“If we live through this, Penn should recruit you for the Ember Guild.” He grins through his agony. “Might be worth living with a bum leg, just to see that play out.”
Scythe is not my friend. Not my protector. Not my savior. But… He gave you socks. He brought you salve. He kept you warm and fed and safe. He saved your life on more than one occasion.
For all I know, he plans to sacrifice me on an altar of blood as soon as we reach our destination.
His ears! My breaths cease. My eyes widen. Because those ears… They’re pointed. He’s fae.
“I’m saying that mark on your chest is no birthmark. It is a Remnant mark. A sign of elemental power. I recognized it the moment I saw it.”
Most of all, I think about the strange bedfellow beside me, his breaths a steady harmony to the melody of worries clanging around inside my head.
sound that makes my heart stutter and my words fail. His eyes never leave mine, and I swear I see a promise of a different nature burning there as well.
Weaver of wind…Something stirs in my bones. A whisper. An answer. Summoner of skies…
On the sandy shores, whipping at my skirts, spraying salt and brine across my skin as I peer out to sea. On the mountain’s summit, the icy chill crystallizing each breath in my lungs, freezing each inch of exposed skin. In the dead of night, whistling through the trees, carrying an electrical storm on its wings.
Wind. Air. Sky.
I can breathe again. The air is clear of smoke.
My head snaps back, my gaze shooting up a set of muscular male thighs encased in dark navy trousers, over the broad planes of a chest, and into the strangest set of eyes I’ve ever seen.
Fae eyes, unquestionably.
“You have nothing to fear from me. I merely wanted a closer look. It is not every day you see a Remnant standing before you.”
“A wind weaver in my colors. That is something I never thought to see again in all my days.”
four souls bear a Remnant mark. One for each of the elements. Water, air, fire, earth.”
“Careful with the princeling. His temper burns hot. I’d hate to see your wings scorched before you ever get a chance to fly.”
“You should see her with a bow,” Jac says. “You’ll fall in love.”
“You are like a crisp trickle of water down the back of a sun-scorched neck. Like cold aloe on a burn.”
It is a palace. Built into the rock wall by the base of the waterfall—in fact, one wing looks to be nearly within the waterfall—the spires and ramparts shoot up toward the sky, piercing the shroud of mist.
it?” “If he hunts halflings for mere traces
Who is this man, standing before me? This stranger who was once my enemy, this enemy who became a protector.
“He does not want me scaling his walls any more than I want him burrowing under mine.”
“There is no place you can run, no place you can hide. He will hunt you down wherever you go.
I am untethered. Unencumbered. Unrepentant.
“You think, after I felt the burst of power you expelled three days ago…after I felt your distress, your pain, your fear…after I came across the ruins of that wagon and saw the ground littered with bodies…and felt nothing from our bond, not a single fucking flicker of your presence…”
“You are the most infuriating, obstinate, impossible woman I have ever met. And I have been alive for well over a century.”
“What if I want you complicating my life? What if I told you I can’t sleep or see straight without knowing you’re safe?
He’s busy stomping out the embers of my fire with his boots.
“Maegic is part of nature.”
“We owe you a great debt, Rhya,”
“One I vow to repay, however I am able.”
Maegic fills the air, thick and palpable. At my chest, my own Remnant stirs awake in response. I
let his power wash over me, through me, and seek the tranquil center inside my mind—calming my own inner storms before they are magnified by the one Penn has unleashed.
“You made me feel like you regretted it,” I cut him off. “Regretted me.”
presence. I want and I want and I want…and…It. Fucking. Terrifies. Me.”
Air and fire, an inextinguishable passion. Igniting together into pure, unadulterated… Combustion.
Feeling like this passion we have unleashed will never burn itself out, no matter how long we touch, no matter how far we let ourselves go tonight.
You could snatch the air from their lungs in a blink, wind weaver.”
One day, they will write songs of this battle, and sing of the wind weaver who cast a light in the darkest of moments.”
Efnysien has started a war. One we will finish.
