Chapter 24
Ispent the entire afternoon getting ready to meet Julian. Zafir didn’t move from his chair where he sat reading, but when I finally came in to check on him, it looked like he was still at the same place in his book.
“I’m ready to go,” I announced to the back of his head.
He gave a grunt of acknowledgement and heaved himself to his feet, then tugged our chain over so it wouldn’t get twisted around his chair.
His gaze flicked over me once and his jaw tightened. “You’re wearing that?”
“No, it’s all an illusion,” I drawled sarcastically. “I’m actually naked.”
He let out an irritated huff. “It was just a question. I told you to wear green. That’s purple.”
“You said green isn’t flattering on me.”
“I know,” he grumbled, and didn’t say anything else as we marched out of his study.
Fine. If Zafir wanted to treat me with such cold indifference, he couldn’t complain when I did likewise to him.
The air between us was thick with tension.
Zafir could have kept me from Julian if he’d wanted to.
All he would have had to do was refuse to move.
Chained to him, there was nothing I could do if he chose that.
But no, he willingly got up to accompany me on my date.
That must mean he wanted me to go, right?
He wanted our plan to succeed. But if he did want me to see Julian, why had he kissed me so passionately?
It wasn’t fair to either of us to tamper with our emotions in such a raw, vulnerable way.
The only conclusion I was able to draw was that Zafir thought our kiss had been a mistake and wanted to forget it ever happened.
My shoulders tensed. It was for the best. If I was going to get back to Brisden, I needed someone who could finance the voyage, and although Zafir was brilliant, he didn’t have fabulous wealth like Julian did.
For this plan to work, I needed a man with money to burn.
Julian was waiting at the gates when we arrived, every strand of his glossy hair smoothed into place, his silks gleaming in the lanternlight. His grin widened when his eyes landed on me, and he bowed in exaggerated gallantry.
“Alia,” he said, offering his hand as though I were some treasured jewel instead of a woman chained at the wrist to another man. “You’re radiant tonight. Purple’s a good color on you. Did you dress up for me?”
I slid my hand into his and fluttered my lashes. “Of course. There’s no one else I’d rather dress up for.”
Zafir’s jaw flexed. He didn’t say anything but adjusted the chain with a sharp tug so I was forced a half-step closer to him.
Julian laughed, mistaking the gesture for clumsiness. “Careful, vizier, or you’ll make this beautiful woman feel like a prisoner.”
“She isn’t my prisoner,” Zafir said, voice low and clipped.
“Oh? Then what is she to you?” Julian asked, cocking his head.
Zafir’s eyes flicked to mine before he looked away again. “My apprentice is simply a responsibility I’m entrusted with.”
A cold stone lodged itself in my ribs. A responsibility, that’s all I was to him. I was a reminder of his duties, not a woman he had kissed earlier that very day. My cheeks burned.
“Well, for tonight she’s my responsibility,” Julian said with a grin, linking our fingers and lifting my hand so he could press a kiss against my knuckles. “And I promise, I take very good care of what’s entrusted to me.”
I forced a laugh and tossed my hair back the way I’d seen the fire dancers flip their hair. “Then I’m in excellent hands. Where’s Jax?”
“I left him back in my quarters. He wouldn’t like the revelry, and trust me, a terrified lemur is difficult to contain.”
Zafir walked in silence ahead of us, his strides so long and impatient that the chain kept pulling me along faster than was comfortable. Just as it had done before, the crowd parted the moment they saw him coming, nervously darting out of the way before he got too close.
Once Zafir was as far as possible ahead of us, Julian leaned over to whisper, “What’s eating Zafir? It looks like he has a storm cloud over his head.”
“Doesn’t he always look that way?” I asked in a stage whisper.
Julian laughed and glanced at Zafir, who had looked back at us with a murderous expression darkening his face. “I suppose he usually does. But enough talk about him. Have you ever seen phoenix fire up close?”
“Not yet,” I said, bright and eager. “I’m looking forward to the show. I’ve heard it’s spectacular.”
His chest puffed out. As he led me through the streets, his spongey palms became overly warm and moist, nothing like how Zafir’s hard, cool hands had felt against mine.
I wrenched my thoughts away from that dangerous territory.
I was here to charm Julian, not obsess over a kiss that never should have happened.
Julian had launched into some tale of his last time watching the Emberlight Revelry, words tumbling over each other. I nodded, smiled, and leaned closer as expected. But the whole time, Zafir’s silence and broodiness weighed on my mind.
I risked a glance at him, just once, when Julian was distracted by the ticket master. His expression looked like it had been carved from stone and his eyes were dark and unreadable. His gaze flicked briefly to where Julian’s hand still held mine, then he immediately looked away.
I swallowed and allowed Julian to sweep me into the glow of the Emberlight gates. If Zafir regretted the kiss, then fine. I would regret it too. I had another man to laugh and flirt with who had a much better attitude and knew how to treat a woman well.
We joined the long line of patrons crowding the entrance and slowly moving into the massive canopied enclosure.
“Do you travel often?” I asked Julian. “You seem highly cultured.”
“Occasionally. Once the war ended, I visited Termarth. You clearly are much more well-traveled. You came all the way from Brisden.”
“It actually didn’t feel like it was a long journey at all.”
“I’m surprised to hear that. I’ve heard that it’s a two-day flight if you take a dragon, and my father told me you came by ship. I was sorry to hear that you were taken against your will. How are you doing?”
“Surprisingly well, but eager to get home. I’d never heard of a dragon transporting people before.”
As we reached the main tent’s entry, Julian let go of my hand to hold the tent flap open for me. All around us, the other attendees were slowly making their way to their seats, climbing the wooden benches to find spots where their views of the glowing arena would be unimpeded.
“I’m so glad I get to do this. Zafir’s fun to irritate,” Julian said with a chuckle.
“He is.” I gave a few seconds pause, then went on, “So have you ever flown on a dragon?”
“Oh no, that’s much too expensive. I can’t think of anywhere I would want to go for that price.”
My heart sank a little. Perhaps he wasn’t as extravagant a spender as Zafir had assumed.
“You could come to Brisden with me,” I offered coyly. “I’d very much enjoy your company.”
“Ah, but I don’t believe Brisden has shows like this. Watch.” He pointed at the center of the arena.
The arena floor glowed as though it were alive. Instead of sand or sawdust, the ground shimmered with a carpet of burning coals, each live ember pulsing red and orange. Heat rose in shimmering waves, warping and twisting in the air, carrying the sharp scent of smoke.
My eyes widened in shock as the ringmaster entered to immense applause, and bursts of fire shot up in pillars around the ring similar to the dancing water fountains they had back home.
Concerned, I looked at his feet, then saw that the man was barefoot.
Every step upon the live coals crackled and hissed, sparks leaping upward.
And yet he walked as if it were no more uncomfortable than the cobblestone street outside.
His bare feet pressed down on the glowing embers, each step leaving behind a brief impression before the coals flared bright again.
“How’s he doing that?” I breathed. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
Julian followed my gaze, then shook his head. “Of course not. All Pyrenese people are immune to fire.” His face worked for a moment as he thought. “Try not to get hit by any sparks tonight. I’ve never heard of anyone from Brisden sharing our immunity.”
My mouth fell open. I’d heard rumors of the Pyrenese people and how they were impervious to fire, but to see it in front of me was something else altogether.
The man in the center of the arena wore clothes of pure gold so bright my eyes watered just looking at them. He spread his arms wide in welcome.
“Ladies and gentlemen, seekers of marvels and the extraordinary—welcome, welcome to the Emberlight Revelry! Tonight, the fire shall dance, the smoke shall unlock secrets, and the ashes themselves will sing of rebirth! You will see death become life, embers take wing, and creatures of legend rise before your very eyes.”
Flames rose to engulf the ringmaster but disappeared a moment later, leaving him and his clothing unharmed.
“Why didn’t his clothes burn up?” I leaned over to ask Julian.
“It’s not that kind of show,” he answered, then upon seeing my startled expression, went on, “Oh! You mean the material? There are some tailors that make fireproof cloth. In fact, when the tzar got married to a foreign bride, her entire dress was made of the material. It’s expensive but useful.”
I nodded as the ringmaster in the arena raised both hands, palms open, until the buzzing audience hushed. His voice rolled out, deep and commanding.
“Tonight, my friends, we stand in the heart of flame! In Pyren, we do not fear the fire; we feed it! We honor it! We become it!”
He gestured at the glowing coals beneath his bare feet, sparks flaring around him. “So, lift your voices with me, and call the fire to life! Are you ready?”
“Yes!” the crowd cheered.
The ringmaster began to chant, “Burn, burn, burn it bright! Emberlight! Emberlight!”
The crowd repeated it back.