Chapter 10
Sylvia
“Inever thought any witch’s magic could feel like hers,” I admitted, tracking Delilah’s form beside Cliff in the crowd. They weren’t the only beautiful pair in the vast hall, but it was a wonder that all eyes weren’t drawn to them alone. In another life, they would have made a striking couple.
“It took some time to get used to it,” Ben said, flying by my side.
Thanks to his glamour spellwork, we were able to travel openly through the ballroom, trailing just a few feet behind Cliff and Delilah overhead.
I had to focus on them like the North Star, trying desperately not to be distracted by the strange and enchanting furnishings that stretched around me.
Glittering chandeliers, food and wine I’d never encountered, auctions—not to mention the dread of being near so many wicked humans at once.
Still, I permitted myself a few indulgent glances.
Even knowing this gala would cause immeasurable harm by its end, I had to admit it was beautiful.
Champagne was served in a seemingly endless supply, and my jaw nearly dropped when I realized literal fountains were offering melted chocolate for dessert.
I made a mental note to demand of the hunters why they’d never once mentioned such a miraculous thing existed.
“After being around sources of foul magic, even Delilah’s harsher spells are pleasant by comparison.” Ben still sounded tight with nerves, but at least he seemed capable of focusing on something other than the plan potentially falling apart.
“Can you catch the scent of her magic when she casts it?” I asked. “It’s like petals.”
“And dying embers. Sort of reminds me of…” When he trailed off, our gazes locked.
“Midsummer,” we said together. The smile we shared was more comforting than it had any right to be, but it came with an equal measure of sorrow.
“If I’d known that this summer solstice revel would be my last in Elysia, I…
” Shrugging, I played with a sprinkle of frost at my fingertips.
“I would have appreciated it more, I suppose. The food, the dancing. Your home village must have celebrated, too, right? What was your favorite part of the festivities?”
“It’s hard to remember,” he murmured. “My sixteenth summer was my last in my village.”
Horror cracked through my nostalgia like a hammer blow.
When I turned to Ben, he immediately avoided my rattled stare. He was older than me–maybe late twenties or early thirties–and I couldn’t shake the realization that he must have been ripped away from his life more than ten summers ago.
He’d been a child. That meant the more terrifying aspects of his affinity had been honed out of fear and survival. Consoling words wavered on my lips, but what good would they do? A day would soon come when he had spent more of his life away from his village than in it.
That day would come for me too. I would have the entire world at my disposal. Without boundaries or curfew, I go anywhere–anywhere but home to Elysia.
Swallowing hard, I steadied myself. “Midsummer may be far out of reach, but winter solstice is right around the corner.” Tentatively, I took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “If we survive this mess, I wouldn’t mind having a fairy to share a drink with.”
The clouded look on his face cleared with surprise. He glanced from our hands to my expression as though checking if he’d heard me right.
“I’d like that,” he said at last.
Below us, I saw that the others had paused. In the sea of guests, Delilah and Cliff had found an unattended high-top table to pause and survey the room.
“You guys still with us?” Cliff asked, eyes lifting to scan the air.
Being out in the open yet invisible still took some adjusting for both Cliff and me. Ben and I kept our voices low—the only thing not masked by the impressive spellwork. Nonetheless, Cliff’s gaze snagged on us occasionally, as if he was feeling a silent tug in our direction.
“Stop doing that,” Ben said.
Cliff’s eyes snapped onto the sound of his voice. “Doing what?”
“Trying to spot us. You’re uncannily good at it, and it’s freaking me out.”
“The bar for that is underground.”
I turned my hands over in front of me. My limbs looked prismatic, like the light was morphing through and around me.
Admittedly, a little pang of envy had started to surpass my fear of Ben’s glamour.
He was one of the most awkward individuals I’d ever met, but he was clearly underselling how adept he was with his affinity magic.
All without a gemstone, too. I could see the furrow in his brow, the concentration it took to maintain the spellwork over both of us, but that didn’t make his abilities any less awe-inspiring.
Maybe when this was all over, we could train together over that drink.
“What a sparkling guest list,” Delilah remarked as her cold gaze roved the ballroom. “I think half of Congress is in here.”
Cliff exhaled sharply through his nose. “Terrific. Any rogue monsters, Sylv?”
I shook my head, then remembered he couldn’t see it.
“Just the constant, suffocating cocktail of a gemstone mingled with cursed items.” I exchanged an uneasy look with Ben.
“I’ve got a faint feeling there are some monsters over by the stage.
” I frowned at the other side of the chamber, where the attractions were partially concealed by the crowd. “But I can’t quite make out what kind.”
Seemingly driven by instinct, Cliff stiffened and scanned the stage area.
“Are you that eager to get your hands dirty?” Ben scoffed.
“I’m watching our backs—yours included.” He glanced at Delilah in exasperation. “Can you tell your friend to cool it?”
Delilah shrugged nonchalantly. “I happen to think he’s an excellent judge of character.”
“Does it calm you or something?” Ben pressed, still fixated on Cliff. “Putting a blade into something or someone’s beating heart? You’ll certainly get your chance tonight. Are you looking forward to it?”
“Ben!” I hissed. He truly didn’t appear to mean any true malice, but around the hunters, it was like he couldn’t contain these cutting remarks.
“Are you asking me if I enjoy killing?” Cliff asked. “Dude, what the hell?”
“I—I dunno. I’m just making conversation.”
Cliff laughed incredulously. “You think that’s small talk?”
“You don’t really strike me as a ‘remarking on the weather’ kind of guy.”
“Hm.” Cliff had to concede to that, at least. “Look, let’s just get through this in silence and not pretend we have to be fucking pen pals afterward.”
Ben opened his mouth, then promptly shut it again as a waiter approached Delilah and Cliff with a silver tray. The two unattended guests had finally been noticed by staff.
“Quiche á la salamandre?” The neatly groomed man wore a pressed red suit, offering delicate, bite-sized appetizers.
Cliff and Delilah slid right into gracious character, each plucking one from the tray with a nod of thanks. Even the napkins looked expensive here.
The moment Cliff popped it into his mouth, he paused, expression growing thoughtful as he chewed. “What’d you say this is?” he asked, lump in his cheek.
“Wild mushroom and salamander quiche in a puff pastry crust.” The waiter’s eyes lit up conspiratorially. “Harvested from the Chinese Giant Salamander. You’ll not find it in but a handful of establishments in the world. The tenderness of its meat is unparalleled, particularly from our kitchens.”
I got a glimpse of Cliff’s bug-eyed expression before he promptly spat back into his napkin.
Delilah, on the other hand, had already finished hers and eagerly plucked two more before dismissing the server.
“Not hungry?” she asked.
“I’m full on anything remotely related to a toad, thanks.” I swore he tried to look at me as he grumbled, “Would it kill these people to have a goddamn Philly cheesesteak?”
Delilah laughed, the sound musical, even at his expense.
Sweeping both hands through his hair, Ben gazed out at the room, his mind faraway. I recognized the look. Although he and Delilah were clearly friendly, Lee was his deepest bond. He was looking for him in the sea of faces, disappointed when he came up empty.
I did the same, searching for Jon. He shouldn’t have been difficult to spot, but between my nerves and the riotous amount of distractions, my attempt was just as fruitless.
Cliff cleared his throat. “Some of these freaks are starting to look our way,” he muttered to Delilah through a forced smile. “I’m not in the mood for networking.”
Delilah barely had time to finish her last appetizer before Cliff snatched her hand and tugged her toward the small dance floor nearby.
“Sylv?” he said, though he carefully trained his eyes away from the instinct to search for me overhead.
“I’m here,” I murmured, following overhead with Ben.
In all honesty, I was holding my breath at the idea of Cliff taking the lead amidst the smooth rhythm of the music filling the hall. Sure, his coordination was unmatched when it came to aim, but this was different. What were the chances that the dance floor was how his cover was blown?
But to my shock, Cliff took to the dance with surprising fluidity.
He had Delilah in a loose hold at first, but she moved closer, stepping in time with him to the pulse of the music.
The wide-eyed expression on Delilah’s face was equal parts surprise and glee.
Where had he learned these steps? As much as he pretended not to be interested in the old movies I watched, perhaps he had at least taken note during the dance scenes.
“That’s the door, isn’t it?” Cliff said in a low voice, a hint of flirtation riding on his smile to stay in character.
I followed his gaze, spotting a lone man in a jet-black suit standing like a statue before an unmarked door. It lacked some of the filigree of the other exits in the ballroom, and matched the location Lee had marked on the blueprints.