Chapter 22
Colette
The sun sets among pink and deep blue clouds on the evening of Snowlight.
Everyone in Leafshire Cove has gathered outside the town walls to make the traditional walk into the woods.
Snow falls in thick flakes, but the temperature is fairly mild.
The wind nips at my nose and cheeks as I turn to smile at Archer.
The snow catches in his ebony hair. He takes my hand casually as we stroll alongside Rychell, young Nate, and Halvard.
Rychell’s dark, curly hair looks dusted with sugar.
Nate drops his head back, opens his pixie-blue lips, and makes a yum sound when a big flake touches his tongue.
Halvard’s green skin seems brighter in the dusk—Archer’s too, his pale complexion like moonlight. I feel very human beside them.
“Do you do this in Honey Sands?” I ask Archer quietly as we pass the ruins of the old castle on the hill.
“Aye. But we start earlier. Before sunset.”
I can’t help but wonder who is eyeing our joined hands and us.
I told Lysandra about this development, Tully and Kaya as well.
Lysandra is a few groups behind us, and I am certain she is watching our every move.
The rumor that we were together has come true, and though I’ve been staying away from the town herald’s broadsheet, I’m sure we’ve been in the newest reports—especially after Archer threatened that heckling tourist for me.
I don’t care. Everyone can whisper all they like.
I feel as though Archer and I have our own little bubble where nothing can bother us.
I hope it feels like this until I take my last breath.
Archer and I talked about how he would live longer, but he claims that our bond will keep me going for years past a normal human lifespan. I’m ready for all the love I can get with the time I have.
Beyond Halvard and Rychell, Laini the weaver and Romulus the gargoyle weather guard walk with their arms linked. Rom’s wing snags a pine branch as we enter the woods and dusts Sios’s proud orange tail with snow.
“Eh!” Sios calls out. “Watch it, gargoyle.” He drops back and glances our way. “There had better be salmon at this event. I was promised fish.”
Archer and I chuckle at the talking cat.
A bat swoops low, right in front of us, and we both gasp. Archer’s eyes are bright, and though he doesn’t mention it, I know he’s hoping he’ll find a bat familiar soon. He was talking about it at the noon meal when we met at Cyrus’s pub.
Laini’s dragonfox flies overhead, chasing his mate through the higher branches of the pines.
Their young are nearly as big as they are, and they blow tiny bits of fire at one another while diving into snow drifts beside the trail.
Tully and Argos argue a few steps behind us, their voices low, but sharp and punctuated with occasional laughter.
Tully’s familiar, a Great Crowned Owl, soars through the last of the dusk’s violet light, her antlers like icicles.
We reach the clearing and everyone goes quiet.
Solstice moths, named for their ability to thrive during the darkest part of the year, glow a faint purple and green as they dance in the night air.
The snow falls more lightly now, soft as it lands on my cheeks and the backs of my hands.
Our boots crunch as we make our way to a labyrinth.
The ankle-high stones that create the winding shape on the ground are covered in drifts.
Tully waves her wand and pink sparks of magic swirl over the area, clearing the snow.
Six large fires snap and pop beyond the labyrinth.
Lidded cauldrons of soup hang over each one.
I inhale the scent of snow, resin, and woodsmoke as I look up into the pines at the dragonfoxes and Lady Owl finding their chosen perches.
“This place is beautiful,” Archer whispers as we start into the labyrinth.
I smile at him, nodding. “Even I, a human, feel magical tonight.”
His thumb brushes over my knuckles and sends a lovely shiver through my blood. He lifts his nose just a fraction of an inch, but I know he is scenting me and my desire for him.
The labyrinth allows all to take time to reflect on the season and it’s tradition to become silent as you reach the center.
Once there, Archer stands and looks up. He closes his eyes and mouths, Thank you, to the moonlit clouds.
Another bat flaps by, and he meets my gaze, grinning like a child.
I will never tire of seeing his joy. I love the seriousness in him and the appreciation of the darker side of life too.
It just makes the joy more intense. He’s taught me that much.
I hope I’ve shown him that happiness is worth some consideration as well.
We leave the labyrinth’s center to allow more folks to move into that space and we continue back the way we came.
Once all have finished the labyrinth walk, Tully has everyone select a magical slip of parchment from her witch hat.
When everyone has one, a rush of wind flows through the area.
I look down at my slip. A name shimmers into being—Archer Darkheart.
The slip bursts into green and gold fire and disappears just as all the other slips do.
“I guess we’re partners,” I say. I bite my lip to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl.
“I know you had Tully cheat for you, remember?”
“Shh.”
I glance around to see if anyone heard him. Only Tully is watching us and she winks. I wink back.
Most of the other pairs aren’t couples. This ritual is meant to help townsfolk understand one another.
It’s meant to build empathy. Argos’s broad horns cast a moon shadow over his partner—an old woman I don’t know yet.
Tully stands opposite Delixian, the large pixie male that serves as the town healer.
He points at something, his wings fluttering between his broad shoulders.
The magic is similar to what I experienced at Snowlight in Kingstown. It makes the air taste like sugar and relaxes the mind. A storm of colors washes out the view of Archer standing in front of me. The colors become a scene that comes from my partner’s mind.
A young, dark-haired male with very fair skin sits in the corner of a small house’s candlelit kitchen.
A group of older boys—green-skinned goblins—chase whom I’m guessing is their father around the table.
They trade punches and wrestle, laughing all the while.
The boy in the corner stands and tries to join in, a tentative smile on his face, but they push him away.
The colors blend, and a new image appears. It’s that same boy walking the streets of Kingstown alone at night. Why is he alone in a city I know he didn’t live in? I can’t see his face, but his breathing hitches like he is upset. He’s so small.
Once more, the image scatters and reforms into something new.
The boy is older now, very clearly Archer.
He sits at a desk and writes. He’s already so handsome with that sheet of black hair falling across his sharp cheekbones.
I long to trace the lines of his nose and brow.
A goblin, presumably his brother, bursts into the scene.
Archer startles and spills his ink over whatever he has been writing. His brother laughs and slams the door.
The vision dissipates and deep red takes over. I’m stunned when the new images appear in my mind’s eye.
This memory opens at the book faire. The infamous stack of cookies is in place. The tables. Lysandra.
And me.
I’m standing beside my table chatting with a tourist who arrived early to the event.
In Archer’s memory, I look like I know I do, but the emotions rising in me—Archer’s emotions—are completely unfamiliar.
He can’t stop studying me. From tip to tail.
Desire roars through my blood, but resistance too.
Irritation. Fear of being vulnerable. Confusion.
The scene morphs into a memory from a few moments ago when we were walking through the labyrinth.
The ache of love that washes through me…
I blink, and the colors fade until I’m seeing Archer now, right in front of me.
Hot tears run down my cheeks. Never did I guess he felt that deeply for me.
Yes, we have the mate marks, and yes, he said as much, but to feel it…
It’s a completely different experience. I know how he feels.
The pain of his childhood. The deep loneliness of adulthood.
His Hunger. His longing and gratitude for me. It’s nearly too much to bear.
Archer gazes at me confidently while I gather myself and squeeze his hands.
“You do love me,” he whispers, and then I cry more.
“Yes,” I manage to get out. “Yes, so much.”
He draws me close. I am addicted to the heat of his arms around me and his soft breath on my forehead. I am so safe with him, so at ease. I don’t have to perform. I don’t have to always be hopeful or cheerful. I can feel uncomfortable emotions and I can be troublesome. I can just be.
Then Archer stiffens.