39. Sybilla
Chapter 39
Sybilla
H undreds of tents were pitched along the riverbed Krait had brought me to that first night, just outside the city. Tealight candles were set on the rocks that speckled the banks of the too-low river. Heavy clouds still gathered and had turned dark purple in the setting sun.
Children flew charmed flaming kites in the turbulent wind, and the smell of fried bread wafted past. I’d had it once during a night market with El—the fluffy bread had been topped with hot peppers and various mouthwatering sauces.
Beside the water, musicians played for coins, and those who had gotten an early start on celebrations were already dancing with bare feet through the tall brown grasses of the riverbanks. Here in the wash, the thin tree coverage created flickering shadows on the ground.
The humidity added a chill to the air, which left goosebumps on my arms. I could understand why the people of the Sahlms gathered to celebrate—I’d never thought I’d miss feeling cold.
I hadn’t seen an ounce of rain since arriving and longed for the sound of pattering on rooftops that so frequently occurred in Luz.
I’d return soon.
Lightning struck in the distance, and thunder rumbled overhead.
“This way.” Ryn guided me with a hand between my shoulder blades. We passed an enchantress selling love charms and another selling everlasting seedlings. Magic spread through the veins of this land—so common that I almost forgot that my realm was completely devoid of it.
Only when Ryn shot me a sly look did I realize I’d pursed my lips involuntarily.
“What?” I defensively retorted.
“You’re thinking yourself in circles.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you the mind reader around here?”
He huffed a laugh and continued, “El told me you plan to leave us this week.”
I glanced over my shoulder at where Krait trailed a few yards behind us, feeling self-conscious about this line of conversation so near to him. It felt important for me to be the one to tell him I’d go.
“Well—I can’t stay forever,” I said. “But I appreciate your help these months. I am not an easy student.”
Ryn smiled. “You will turn these realms upside down for the better, Princess. Wherever you choose to do it from. Though there will be many here who miss you.”
I offered him a sad smile. “How do you stay so positive all the time when so much has been taken from you?”
He shrugged. “You can choose to be pissed off at the world or you can choose to embrace it in all of its injustices.”
He guided me toward a tent with open flaps flailing in the wind. Wicker rugs had been laid down inside, and wood-framed seats with lush cushions offered a quaint sitting space. Elsedora was already lounging there with a bottle of wine in hand.
She held the bottle out to Ryn without a verbal greeting. He took a swig before offering it to me. I looked around for a chalice.
Ryn shrugged. “It’s the first rain. Live a little, Sybilla.”
At that, I put the bottle to my lips and pulled from it. The decadent richness of the burgundy fruit warmed my tongue. I’d been limiting my consumption since having fallen ill, but the tonics and rest now had me feeling well enough. For now.
The scent of warm spice and smoke enveloped me. Krait stepped up behind me, reaching around my waist to swipe the bottle with playful ease. It slipped from my fingers as his front brushed my back, and I suddenly hated my own condition to put him off. He stepped away from me, and I missed his warmth.
It needed to be a clean cut.
We needed to remain allies.
He got to keep his realm out of Death’s grip and his people from losing their land. I got the same. I would not be his guilty pleasure to resent as his heart yearned for what he’d lost.
I took the seat beside Elsedora. This would put a safe distance between us. It had been hard enough to share a bed with the man while keeping my hands to myself with the way he looked like a Source-damned statue sculpted from women’s fantasies. It didn’t help that his tunic sleeves were rolled up onto his forearms. My weakness.
Elsedora reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so glad you can experience a first rainfall before leaving.”
Krait had sat across from us and taken another swig of wine. He passed the bottle to Ryn as his brows knitted together. “Leaving?”
My posture straightened.
Elsedora and her big fucking mouth.
“Yes. I’m returning to Luz at the end of the week. Now that we’ve reached an agreement, I’d like to be seen by Wyeth through the process. I’ll write to you when you’re needed.”
The words sounded callous, and I wished I could retract them.
Krait clenched one fist around the wood armrest of his seat, his jaw pulsing. Ryn passed the wine to El with a sideways glance.
Krait waved his hand as though trying to dismiss his own anger. “Ah, yes. Keeping things professional. How could I forget your intent to use me as a stud?”
Elsedora covered her mouth to prevent spitting out the pull she’d just taken from the bottle. Ryn crossed one ankle over his thigh and stifled a chuckle.
Prick.
“ We both agreed upon conditions,” I snapped back.
He grunted a response and averted his gaze toward the darkening river.
Ryn’s thoughts pushed through. “So that’s why he’s been so moody. You’ve hurt his pride.”
I wanted to disagree with him, but that would draw attention.
Going back to Luz was the right thing to do. My people were faring well under Asterie and Fen’s rule, but that was meant to be temporary. With the threat of Caym rising, my Corridor needed to remain my priority.
“You two are welcome to visit me anytime,” I directed at El and Ryn, not acknowledging Krait’s piss-poor mood.
Krait remained cagey as he said, “So glad you have it all figured out then.”
It grew dark, and candlelight from the tents around us lit the surrounding area in a golden glow. Thunder cracked overhead, and the first patter of rain hit the top of the tent, sweetening the air with a loamy musk. As the drizzle of rain turned into a downpour, the crowds of Source-wielders, immortals and mortals alike hooted in celebration.
Some lit colorful charms into the air that crackled in shades of red and orange above us. The river below became spotted with heavy droplets, and the tealight candles were extinguished in tiny spouts of steam as the rain persisted. Music from the bands grew louder, picking up the tempo, as though the rain fueled the need for song.
“Krait, you know the drill.” Elsedora stood and extended her hand to him. He reluctantly reached up and let her drag him out into the rain. El was barefoot, and Krait carefully maneuvered his boots around her feet as they danced through the muddying grasses.
“She typically gets his first and only dance before he slinks off to a corner to watch others celebrate,” Ryn explains.
“Why am I not surprised?”
Krait was a stiff dancer. While coordinated, he lacked all of the energy that Elsedora more than enthusiastically compensated for as she spun around him like a graceful sprite.
I’d drunk just enough of the shared bottle for frolicking in the pouring rain to sound fun. “Do you want to dance, Ryn?”
Ryn’s smile widened, and he wiggled his brows. “You’re sure? Are you trying to get me killed tonight?”
I laughed and nodded before dragging Ryn out into the slick grasses, feeling light and carefree for once. Thankfully, the leather slippers I’d chosen had a good grip on the soles. The heft of every worry within me washed away under the first warm downpour of the Sahlms’ summer. The rain weighed down my curls and slid over my cheeks.
The moment my body fell into rhythm with Ryn’s movement, his features began to distort...
Shit. No, no, no.
I’d forgotten this particular charm of those Source-wielders of the night sky. Suddenly, I felt guilty for having paraded Asterie around the Luz courtyard, making a party trick of revealing my nobles’ true desires. Under the moonlight’s trickery, Ryn’s features would change to mirror those of the person I most desired.
Ryn’s pale skin grew darker and his frame taller. I expected in the next moment for Emmerick to stare down at me.
But instead, gray irises met mine. Beneath the hard lines and stubble, he was almost unrecognizable without his brooding expression.
“Who is it that you see, Sybilla?” Ryn’s tone was entirely too mischievous. He’d set me up.
He was manipulating this enchantment. He had to be.
I swallowed hard. “Darvan-dick.” My voice was barely above a whisper. The people surrounding us became interested and crowded around to watch. “How are you doing that?”
I could hear the internal whispers surrounding us.
“It’s true—she loves our King.”
“When will they marry?”
“Our realm will have a little heir in no time.”
Their awestruck thoughts only fueled my anxieties. Every gaze felt like hot air from a hearth glazing over my skin.
“I’m not doing anything, Sybilla. You are.” The lines of Ryn’s brow softened as though only now did he regret putting me in such an awkward position. He shielded me from the crowd, drawing me closer. While he looked like the brooding warlock that my heart felt conflicted about, he didn’t smell like him—Ryn smelled like lemongrass and musk.
Past Ryn’s shoulder, I saw the real Krait, still holding Elsedora’s hand, but having gone stone-still. They stood outside the crowd that had circled around us. He stared at us with an unreadable expression before dropping El’s hand to approach me.
I was a fawn caught in a hunter’s lamplight—caught off guard and too exposed to fight.
So, I did the next natural thing.