Chapter 13 #2
I blushed. “Thank you,” I barely whispered.
“I might have to take you back to the lodge before we enter the festival.”
Before a grin could spread across my face, I turned and walked down the path leading toward the festival entrance. My shoulders felt lighter, my steps easier after just three simple words from Daemon.
I could hear him following behind me, his footsteps nearly silent.
We simply followed the music toward the light.
The Fae guide was waiting for us ten paces away, standing just before the festival grounds. She led us forward, moving with fluid grace.
Then the trees parted.
The clearing stretched before us in a perfect circle, easily two hundred paces across. I stopped, my breath catching.
Lanterns hung from branches at varying heights, hundreds of them, crafted from what looked like solidified starlight rather than glass.
They cast no shadows. Instead, their glow pooled like liquid on the ground, creating rivers of soft illumination that wound between clusters of Fae already gathering.
Long tables formed concentric rings throughout the space, their surfaces filled with food and drinks. No vendors called out prices. There wasn’t a single coin in sight.
“This way.” Our guide beckoned us forward.
I moved as if walking through a dream. Everywhere I looked, life bloomed. Children darted between adults, shrieking with laughter as they played games I had never seen before. A group of musicians played tunes I had never heard, yet they felt strangely familiar.
“No one pays for anything,” I said, watching a young couple accept woven bracelets from a vendor who refused even a nod of thanks.
“Payment implies debt,” the guide said. “Here, we give because we have. We receive because we need. The balance maintains itself.”
Daemon’s hand brushed my lower back. He had a knack for grounding me, both in moments of struggle and moments of joy. I glanced at him and found his gaze scanning the crowd out of habit.
“There.” He nodded toward a table near the clearing’s center.
Kael sat with his chair tilted slightly back, Kane beside him, far too big for his seat. Both looked better than when I’d last seen them, no shaking fingers, no blood running down their limbs.
Zephyr reclined on a cushioned bench, still pale but awake, speaking animatedly with a Fae healer who listened with focused attention.
Relief flooded through me so suddenly my knees weakened. I had feared there would be permanent damage from the battle.
“They’re alright.”
“Of course. They’ve been through worse. They’re survivors.” Daemon’s hand settled more firmly against my back. “Like you.”
We approached them side by side.
Kael spotted us first, raising one hand in a lazy greeting.
“Wondered when you’d show. Looks like you two have gotten… better acquainted,” he said with a grin, his eyes settling on Daemon’s hand wrapped around my wrist.
Another flush of heat spread across my face, the only response he received.
Daemon pulled out a chair for me before claiming his own.
“How’s Zephyr?”
“Pestering the healers for their methods.” Kane’s scarred face held a rare hint of amusement. “So, recovered enough to be annoying.”
I sat, hyperaware of the unfamiliar dynamic. I’d never shared a meal with them. Their first impression of me had been a girl trying to take a bite out of their throats. During the journey to Vaelthorne, the only thing on our minds had been survival.
Now, surrounded by laughter and music, watching Daemon’s team trade insults with the ease of long familiarity, I felt like an outsider peering through glass.
“Hello, Seris. Let me formally introduce myself. I’m Kael.” Kael addressed me directly, surprising me.
“Hi. Daemon has told me a lot about you.”
“Don’t believe anything the bastard has told you,” Kael joked.
The jab earned him a playful middle finger from Daemon.
Kane, mouth full and double-fisting two chicken drumsticks, spoke as food flew from his mouth.
“Degenerates, the both of them!”
A boisterous laugh exploded from him as pieces of chicken hit Daemon’s face.
Kael leaned back, a disgusted look spreading across his features. Daemon simply kept his eyes closed and wiped his face clean.
“A group of feral hogs would lose their appetite eating with you.”
“The hogs would be on a spit roast if I were eating around them.”
Another booming laugh filled the festival as Kane launched another storm of chicken.
Kael quickly put a hand over his cup of wine.
The banter continued, flowing around me. Gradually, I realized they were including me. They weren’t forcing it, just leaving space.
“So, Seris, how has training been? I’ve heard Lyralei has been speaking with you. She’s been keeping us updated on you and Daemon’s activities.”
When Kael asked about Lyralei’s teaching methods, he seemed genuinely curious. They were treating me like one of their own.
“All I’ve learned is how to breathe,” I said. “I had no idea I had to learn how to do that.”
“Sounds like foundation training. It’s necessary in any discipline. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” He gestured toward Daemon. “Daemon’s foundation training was learning not to wet his pants.”
Kael earned another glare from Daemon.
The reassurance from Daemon’s former teacher lifted a weight off my shoulders, especially considering Daemon was known as one of the best assassins in the Kingdom.
Food began appearing, plates carried by villagers who seemed to materialize from nowhere. They set down dishes steaming with fragrant herbs and spices I couldn’t name.
Roasted meats glazed with honey and crushed berries. Bread that tasted like it had just come out of the oven. Fruits that burst on the tongue with flavors that shifted from sweet to tart to something indefinable.
Zephyr joined the group, slapping both hands onto Kane’s shoulders.
“Hey!”
The talented healer, archer, and wind magic user looked different from my first impression. During my rescue, he had been solemn and alert. Now his youth showed clearly.
Kane flinched as the impact jarred his sore back, and Zephyr’s chin dropped onto the top of his head.
Without even looking back, Kane grabbed Zephyr by the collar and lifted him with one hand before dropping him into the chair beside him. Zephyr’s legs hung loosely as he landed in his seat.
Zephyr didn’t bat an eye.
For the first time, I saw Daemon laugh genuinely. A smile that reached his eyes settled across his face as Zephyr picked up his utensils.
“So, Seris,” Zephyr said, “have you learned how to destroy reality yet?”
Before the bluntness of the question could sink in, Kael reached past Kane’s massive frame and smacked him on the head.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“That was for being yourself.”
The group broke out into laughter again.
This time, I joined them.
With that, we began to eat. I ate until my stomach protested, then kept eating because everything tasted like safety made edible.
“Easy.” Daemon’s voice dropped low, meant only for me. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
“I know.” I took another bite anyway.
His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close enough to warm something in my chest.
Music swelled as the sky deepened from purple to true black. Stars emerged, far more than should have been visible, scattered across the heavens in patterns that looked almost deliberate.
Then Lyralei took the stage.
She didn’t walk to it so much as appear there, her robes catching the lantern light effortlessly. The crowd quieted on their own, out of respect for their Keeper.
“Children of the Veil.” Lyralei’s voice carried without strain. “Tonight, we celebrate what was, what is, and what may yet be.”
I leaned forward despite myself.
“Once every fifty years, the barriers between worlds condense before the sun. The Veil itself breathes, and for one night we remember we are not refugees hiding in shadow.”
Lyralei spread her arms, robes billowing.
“We are guardians. Keepers. The last defense against what hungers beneath the Cursed Throne.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“The Veiled Night comes to remind us why we endure. Why we teach our children the old ways. Why we preserve what others have forgotten.” She lifted her gaze skyward. “Watch now, and remember what we protect.”
The stars began to dim as if something vast had passed between them and the earth. The darkness deepened until I could barely see Daemon beside me, until the lanterns seemed to pulse in response.
Then light broke through.
It started as a single beam, brilliant silver-blue, tearing across the sky. Then another. And another. Within heartbeats, the entire heavens blazed with pulsing veins of luminescence, midday transforming into something that belonged to neither day nor night.
Veil-light.
Around the clearing, beautiful violet flowers began to bloom.
They erupted from the ground and blossomed on the branches of the trees. Delicate blossoms in shades of violet, silver, and the deepest blue. They climbed trees in spiraling vines, carpeting the entire space in living color.
Then they burst.
Petals exploded from every flower simultaneously. The air filled with a storm of color and light. They fell like snow. Like rain. It was as if the heavens were sending us their blessing. They caught in hair and on shoulders. They landed on skin like wet paper.
Music erupted, and the Fae cheered. Drums, strings, and voices raised in harmony. The Fae flooded toward the center of the clearing and onto the stage, spinning and leaping with abandon. The distinction between celebration and ritual blurred until they became one.
Daemon stood beside me. His shadows curled around his feet despite the brilliance overhead. He turned to me, extending one hand and flicking his chin toward the stage of dancing Fae.
My heart lurched. “I don’t know how.”
“Neither do I.” His mouth curved. “Doesn’t seem like anyone would care.”
I looked at his big, vascular, scarred hand. Looked at his face, finding a different person than the one I had seen the night I was rescued.