19. Chapter 19
Outside the cabin, the atmosphere shifted, vibrating with energy. Loud laughter and music spilled from the village center—the obvious marker of a good party.
“What’s the festival like?” she asked Leo.
“Wait and see.” He tugged on her hand, picking up their pace.
“Hold on,” she exclaimed. “My ears!”
In all the hubbub, they had forgotten a very vital piece of her disguise—Yareli’s ears.
Thankfully, her hair had covered them up until now, but she doubted it would hold in a crowd.
Leo paused, and without missing a beat, he materialized a wool hat.
She stared at it; the red was far too bright for her blue outfit.
“Interesting color.”
“It’s my favorite,” he replied.
He placed it on her head, but his hands lingered, and she stilled.
His soft breath landed on her cheeks like a butterfly’s kiss.
He bit his bottom lip. His perfect, full pair of lips, as though crafted by an artist’s careful strokes, beckoned her.
She placed her hand on his chest, shivering at his heat.
His pupils dilated, and he leaned closer.
And tugged the hat over her eyes.
“I like how red looks on you,” he said, taking her hand. He tugged her along again, and she followed, dejected.
Why was it so hard to get kissed around here?
Her frustration dissipated as they turned into the village center, and a mighty fire revealed itself; its flames reached high in the dark sky. Its heat emanated outward with ferocity, and a drop of sweat rolled down her face. She pulled at Leo.
“It’s hot. Can you remove the warming spell?”
“‘Course.”
With a wave of his hand, the sweltering heat cooled off until it was the cozy warmth of a fireplace, and she sighed.
Crowds ebbed and flowed from the various stalls lining the edges of the plaza.
A low platform where Fae performers danced was installed near the bonfire.
Dressed even lighter than Leo with furs covering only their erroneous areas, they stomped, spun, and flipped all over the platform.
But what held her attention was the magic.
Every sharp movement came with a spark of silver light.
It made them look like ethereal beings from another world.
Yareli frowned. They were from this world, she reminded herself.
She was the outsider. It was hard to remember she wasn’t from Izmari, because most of her memories were from her time here.
Loneliness hit her then. She clung to the memory of her mom; she wanted to go home and be far, far from Tuom and his bigoted cronies.
As if sensing the turn of her emotions, Leo bumped her shoulder.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
“If you think that’s impressive, wait until you see my performance.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re performing?”
He shrugged. “Training to be a general had some perks. Come, let’s go check out the stalls.”
He let go of her hand, so she trailed behind, but she soon lost sight of him.
She held onto her hat as she was jostled around in the crowd.
Panic set in. There were so many bodies pressing against hers—pushing past her—and she had no idea where to go.
Then, as suddenly as he had disappeared, Leo reappeared.
He hooked his arm around her waist and jerked her out of the crowd next to a small stall. He was laughing.
“It’s not funny.” She slapped his arm.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I forgot you’re short and that you would have trouble pushing your way through the crowd.”
She swatted at him again, but he dodged.
He grabbed her shoulders, forcibly turning her toward the stall’s contents.
Any further scoldings died on her tongue.
Reminiscent of the wolf Leo had gifted her a few weeks ago, wooden animal figures painted in dark, vibrant colors aligned the table’s surface.
She picked up a navy blue bear and ran her thumb over it, enjoying its smoothness.
“Do you like it?” Leo asked.
She nodded but put it back down. She had no money.
“We’ll take this one.” He grabbed it, tossing a coin at the merchant. He handed it to her, and before she could say thank you, he was pulling her to the next stand.
The female merchant welcomed them with a smile. She gestured at her wares—tiny silver disks with an engraved image. Yareli looked at Leo for guidance.
He pointed his chin at them. “Pick one up.”
She narrowed her eyes at the amusement in his eyes, but chose one.
She rolled the disk, a dolphin etched on it, in her palm.
It buzzed, and she froze, watching as it unfurled into a smooth, oval disk that reminded her of a plate.
She peered at its smooth surface, but only her reflection stared back at her.
She turned away from it, her frown directed at Leo.
“Keep looking, or you might miss it.”
And sure enough, within a few seconds, a dolphin jumped; it dove into the opposite edge of the disk, disappearing into the silver pool.
More dolphins arced across the plate until it finally stopped and shrank back to its original nickel size.
Several words crossed her mind, but Yareli—wary of Leo buying her another thing—chose the simplest one.
“Wow.”
She put it down and hurried Leo to the next stall.
“You didn’t like it?” he asked.
“I did. But I don’t need one.”
“You’re allowed to want things, you know.”
She paused, rolling his words on her tongue.
Had she denied herself of her desires? The thought hadn’t crossed her mind before, but it settled in her stomach like lead.
While it would be slow to digest, part of it rang true.
She was always unsure, always doing what seemed necessary.
As a human, it was difficult to be in control in a magical world brewing with unrest. Even so, she didn’t want to suck the fun out of the evening. She shook her head.
“It’s not that. I appreciate the gifts, I do. I just don’t need one.”
He frowned at her, but he didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, he said, “It’s almost time for my performance. Let’s get you a good spot.”
He took her hand and parted the crowd for them until they reached the platform, where he positioned her in the front, telling people to let her through.
“Can’t you see how short she is?” he told one particularly grumpy Fae, but it worked. The Fae moved over, giving her enough space to get a front-row seat.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. She needed to get platform shoes; the height commentary was getting old. She liked her height and thought nothing of it, but she could admit that she looked a little odd next to a crowd averaging around five-foot-eleven and above.
Leo grabbed her shoulders, smiling, and said, “Wait for me here. I’ll be on in a minute or two.”
He was leaving her alone. Her breathing quickened, and she clutched his arms.
“You’ll be okay,” he murmured. “You’re strong enough for this.”
Yareli swallowed, but her throat was dry. She didn’t feel like she was, but there was no choice; Leo had somewhere to be. She couldn’t hold him back. She swallowed again and ignored how it stung. She dropped her arms.
“There ya go.”
His lips curled in a broad grin, and with one last look, he patted her shoulder and jogged toward the platform.
She soon lost sight of him as he squeezed through the crowd by the platform’s steps.
She licked her dry lips and held herself stiff, avoiding physical contact with strangers.
Her eyes darted around the area, alert. A flash of hazel caught her attention, and she backtracked, but she didn't find the pair of eyes she thought she had seen.
“Found you.”
Erick’s voice startled her. He pushed past the grumpy Fae with Bri following. He cursed at them, and Bri made an obscene gesture at the man. One look at her and he made himself scarce. Yareli bit back a smile at the interaction.
“Hey,” Yareli said. “You guys were fast.”
“Couldn’t miss Leo’s performance now, could we?” Erick replied. “It’s going to be h-o-t.” Then, in a whisper, he asked, “How did it go?”
She shrugged. “It’s like they’re both allergic to kissing.”
That startled a laugh out of Erick. “Trust me, one of them will cave.”
The fire dimmed, its flames nothing more than dying embers, and it darkened, reminiscent of twilight.
Bri hushed them, saying, “It’s starting.”
The crowd went silent, and even the merchants quieted.
The crowd’s features, hard to distinguish in the dark, buzzed with restrained excitement.
A loud thump resounded; its vibrations, magicked so each one sparked a deep red, reverberated across the crowd and left a weird, hollow feeling in Yareli’s chest. Another thump followed shortly after until it was a constant beat.
A deep, guttural chant erupted, and then Leo was on the platform.
He had changed clothes, wearing only fur pants, but in his hand, he held his axe, holding it upright like a staff.
His gray eyes, hardened in the dark, nearly black, found hers.
He spun his axe in front of him, swinging it to one hand, throwing it in the air and catching it with his other.
His quick movements in the dusk entranced her; his performance sublime.
Nothing but a sharp glint, the axe flew into the air, caught again by Leo.
He rolled it across his shoulders, letting it slide down his arms and swinging it like a pendulum across his body back to his original hand.
He froze, chest rising and falling in rapid succession, his axe held upright once more.
The crowd stomped. The rumble reached Yareli’s soles, and she joined them, their fervor igniting a deep thrill in her.
On and on, they stomped until, finally, Leo moved.
He released a low, throaty grunt and swung his axe into the platform, piercing the wood.
It remained there—stuck—as Leo flipped in the air.
He moved backward to the slumbering fire.
He did a backflip, sweeping one leg outward as he landed, and swiveled, blowing air onto the embers.
They stuttered for a moment, then erupted into a tower of flames.
The crowd whooped, and Yareli found herself cheering alongside them, but Leo wasn’t done.
He pulled his axe out in one smooth motion and spun, twirling it between his hands.
Each movement was so fast he was a blur to her human eyes.
He came to a sudden stop and launched his axe into the air. His eyes met hers.
Yareli froze.
The world fell away, and it was only he and her. Her heart thumped. Silence dominated her hearing, and the axe fell at breakneck speed.
It followed Newtonian law—going down and down.
And yet, his gray eyes flashed silver, churning like molten lava and drawing her in.
It was not lost on Yareli that she was the moth flying too close to fire.
If she touched it, she would burn—this she was certain of.
It would burn through her paper-thin wings and leave her flightless.
The lava would consume her whole until there was nothing left.
Until she was one and the same with the molten silver.
Leo—she realized—was courting her, telling her to allow herself to be devoured, to be his. Only his.
The axe swooshed down mere millimeters away from Leo’s nose.
He caught it, never breaking their eye contact.
Sweat poured down his face, dripping onto his chest, leaving it glistening.
She trailed it downward, lingering a little too long, and lifted her gaze upward.
Leo smirked, winked at her, and departed from the stage.
“He’s good, isn’t he?” Erick prompted, lightly bumping his shoulder to hers.
“Yeah, that was…” Yareli cleared her throat. “Where did he learn that?”
Bri answered, “Military school.”
The crowd dispersed, performances seemingly over for the time being, and she searched for a familiar head of white hair. She didn’t know if she had an answer for him, but she wanted to continue their festival “date.”
“Are you hungry?” Erick asked. “Because you have to try—”
A scream tore through the air, cutting through the crowd’s chatter, and everything stilled.
Goosebumps rose on Yareli’s skin as a familiar wave of dark energy hit her.
August. She took a step backward. Then, another and another until she was running through the crowd, away from the incoming danger.
She ignored the shouts of her name, her body reacting to its one sole purpose—find August.
Before they found her.