Chapter 14 #2
‘Hey.’ Astin presses closer, bracing both hands around me until he’s blocked out everything around us. I swallow. Look into his eyes. The din on the street dims to nothing. ‘We’ll be as quick as we can. We’ll find what we need and get out of here.’
I nod, closing my eyes and trying to centre myself.
My fingers find his waist of their own accord, pulling him fully against me and twining themselves in the fabric of his shirt.
His clothes are too thick for me to hear his heartbeat, but I imagine it anyway, pulsing as fast as mine.
His breath stutters against the top of my head, but his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, and I use that rhythm to slow my scattered thoughts.
As much as I hate the way it’s hard to read him, his tumbling emotions make it easier to stabilise myself; the desire lessening when there’s nothing to focus on.
There’s just him, nothing but pine and something floral, along with – a sudden burst of heat floods my nostrils, like accidentally biting into a chilli hidden inside an otherwise bland meal.
Gasping, we pull away at the same time. I’m not sure what he’s withdrawing for, but he runs a hand through his hair, angling himself away from me to assess our route, before leading me down a side road that’s marginally less busy than the main street.
I inhale through my mouth the whole way, which does make everything less pungent, but leaves me with the taste of sugar in my throat.
We round a corner to see a blaze of pink.
‘Oh,’ I gasp. Across the street lies a park ringed by iron railings, an abundance of roses crawling around the bars.
Lanterns flecked with pink and purple glass hang from the trees, giving the impression that the candles within burn with colour.
Stalls selling more love-related souvenirs, along with decadently smelling baked goods, fill the area both in and outside the green.
‘Oh,’ I say again. Not so much a gasp this time, but a moan. This crowd tastes delicious. Mouthwatering. Sunbeams and strawberries, warm on my tongue.
‘Come on. Let’s look around.’ Astin’s fingers are firm but gentle on my elbow.
‘Maybe we should separate,’ I say. It’ll be easier for me to sniff out what we need if he’s not watching me like a hawk.
‘You think I trust you unattended in a place like this?’ Astin screws up his nose as a cloud of pink smoke drifts upwards from somewhere within the maze that occupies a large portion of the park.
A queue of people are waiting to go inside, the line building up beneath a banner that stretches across the hedge.
Fluttering in the breeze, it reads: Enter, enter, if you dare, come as one and find your pair.
Astin hurries me along, but there’s no sign of the statue Damian mentioned, and with so much activity around me, it’s hard to get a sense of any magic in the air at all.
We spot other competitors everywhere we go – easily identifiable by the fact they’re the only people not draped in pink flags – digging holes near trees and swearing profusely when they find nothing.
It would have helped if Damian had drawn us a map.
We move on, weaving through couple after couple – narrowly avoiding a collision when two of them start kissing in the middle of the path with no regard to everyone around them (Astin mutters something about finding a room, which I choose to take as a sign he’s coming round to the idea of putting everyone in one bed) – until we reach a purple tent covered in crescent moons, situated in a quieter corner of the park.
It’s flanked by twin trees whose branches curl over the tent flaps to form an arch.
Oh, shit.
Eira sits outside on a small stool, the ends of her blue dress trailing over the ground and ending in front of a sign with a crystal ball drawn in chalk. I narrow my eyes. I may have avoided learning about my abilities, but last I checked fortune telling wasn’t one of them.
Which means she’s up to something nefarious.
But that’s not the most pressing issue. The issue is Astin, standing at my side, Astin and his if one happens to cross my path, they’re dead promise. I cannot have him turning a festival of love into a bloodbath. I need to get him away from her before she reveals what she is.
Eira’s gown is, thankfully, long-sleeved and high-necked, concealing any Souleater marks, but her nostrils flare as she catches sight of me. ‘Oh. You again.’
Her attention slides to Astin. My pulse kicks up another notch.
Maybe my inability to deduce his emotions is an anomaly; something that comes from spending too much time with someone, like how a pet owner becomes immune to the scent of fur that to a new guest is overwhelming.
What if she starts telling him how he smells?
Instead, she smiles. ‘And you brought a friend. My, my, what a pairing you make.’
‘We’re not a pairing,’ I say quickly. Astin tenses behind me.
Eira smirks, as though she can scent the lie there.
The wishing and wanting behind the words.
Dread curdles in my belly. I’m not sure what would be worse: Astin realising what she is and starting a fight, or her spilling my secrets to the one person who cannot know all the inappropriate thoughts in my head.
Thankfully, she chooses not to embarrass me, instead launching into that sing-song voice of hers, her eyes never leaving Astin. ‘An empty space or a place to fill, an empty thing is hard to kill.’
Astin frowns. ‘What –’
‘I’m hungry. Shall we find some food?’ I butt in.
‘Daisy, how do you know this person?’
‘We met at the party. Briefly. But now I think we should . . . go over there.’ I point in a random direction.
Please, please, can we go over there before you work out what she is and ruin this perfectly pleasant festival by strangling her with a Laevothe banner.
‘Don’t go,’ Eira says. ‘Why don’t you come inside? I’d like to talk to you.’
Well, I wouldn’t like to talk to her. There was a moment last night where I’d considered it, had wanted to quiz her on everything she knew, but there’s a frostiness to her scent filling me with unease.
She might have told Damian she was resisting temptation, but that might not stretch to being alone with someone in her tent.
Finding some unsuspecting victim is probably the whole reason she’s at the festival.
But the longer I resist, the more chance she’ll tell Astin something I don’t want him finding out.
‘Talk to her about what, exactly?’ Astin narrows his eyes.
‘My fortune!’ I exclaim. ‘She offered to read it yesterday. For free. When we met. Hey, maybe she’ll see us finding what we need.’
Astin stares at me like I’ve finally grown those horns we were talking about, but I steer him around until he’s facing one of the food stalls.
‘I won’t be long,’ I tell him. ‘You get me something to eat, and I’ll come and find you in a few minutes.’
At first, I don’t think he’s going to comply – I wouldn’t blame him if he refused – but eventually, he sighs and says, ‘I will get you food on two conditions.’
‘Which are?’
‘You’d better be telling the truth about it being free. And the second I’m back, you’re leaving that tent. So she’d better tell your “fortune” fast.’
I slap down his raised fingers before Eira can take offence to his air quotes, and wave him away. He departs with a roll of his eyes, leaving Eira pouting in her chair, her arms folded like a petulant child.
‘I wouldn’t have minded if he stayed.’ She licks her lips, and I bristle. Personally, I think she takes the eater part of Souleater far too literally.
I fold my arms. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’
‘I want to know what you and Damian spoke of yesterday.’ She gestures to the tent. ‘After you.’
The threat of what she might do if I refuse has me stepping over the threshold, like a fly being forced into a spider’s web.
The interior stinks of incense, choking in its intensity. Candles are scattered over the floor – which has to be a fire hazard – and in the centre, two stools face opposite sides of a circular table hosting a crystal ball.
I gesture at the table. ‘Are you actually telling fortunes, or is this a front for –’ Distaste leaves me unable to finish the sentence.
I can easily imagine her luring unsuspecting victims in here, digging her nails into them the moment they sit at her table, channelling their emotions until they’re stumbling out of her tent in a daze, lucky to have a future left at all.
‘The festival smells nice,’ she says, which isn’t an answer.
‘I’ve been coming since I was a child. I’d sit in a quiet corner and breathe it all in.
They try to repulse us with their banners and their powders, but they have no idea the depths of the emotions we experience.
Eventually, someone would ask me why my parents weren’t supervising me, if I needed help finding them, and I didn’t know how to answer. Do you have parents?’
‘I – yes?’
‘That’s nice. Must be nice.’ She gains a far-off, dreamy look.
‘Anyway. When I was older, they stopped asking about my parents, but they still questioned why I was alone. Like it was a flaw I was capable of fixing. I didn’t know how to answer that either, so I got the tent.
And then I met Damian and I wasn’t alone any more.
I’m going to keep him forever.’ Her gaze sharpens.
‘You can’t tell him I was here. He won’t like it. ’
‘I have no interest in –’ I break off, realising I can use this to my advantage.
I drop on to a stool, and she follows suit.
‘I’ll make you a deal. I won’t tell Damian you’re here .
. . sniffing people . . . if you stay away from Astin.
And if you do meet, you can’t say anything weird to him.
It won’t end well for you if he works out what you are. ’
‘Oh. Would he want to hurt me?’ She mock-gasps. ‘He could try. I get my magic from special sources, but I might make an exception for him.’