“I’m nottryingto do anything,” Cedric said, exhaling on a laugh. “Can I help it that she’s drawn to me?”
Elyria hummed. “Well,” she said, tracing a long finger down the line of his jaw, then the column of his neck. She brushed over the spot where she bit him, and Cedric shivered. “Then I suppose she is something like me after all.”
33
DAWNSPIRE
CEDRIC
Dawnspire lookedlike a replica of the villages one might find in a storybook. Whitewashed cottages with ivy-wrapped walls were dotted along the main road. Every windowsill had a planter box that overflowed with fall flowers—marigolds, mums, trailing thyme—and the cobblestone street before them was so pristine that Cedric wondered if someone had scrubbed it clean in anticipation of their arrival.
A breeze swept over the group, the sky just beginning to swirl with the colors of sunset. Birds chirped in the trees. Bells chimed from the steeple of a church at the end of the street.
It was, in a word, idyllic.
And something about it madeCedric’s skin crawl.
“When was the last time you were in Dawnspire, Ric?” Tristan strode up beside Cedric, leading his horse by the reins as they walked over to a hitching post to their left.
Cedric leashed Polonius to the post, giving the handle attached to a nearby water trough a few pumps to fill it before turning to his friend. “We stopped overnight on the way to Luminaria before the Crucible,” he said. “Did you not do the same when you came to meet me at the end of it?”
“I did,” Tristan said warily. “That’s why I ask.”
“It does seem a bit different from the last time we were here, doesn’t it?” said Hargrave, coming up behind them. “A bit, er, neater than before.”
Tristan huffed a breathy laugh. “That’s certainly one way of putting it. I might’ve said it’s fucking creepy, but to each their own.”
Cedric bit his lip. It was true that at his last visit there certainly hadn’t been anything too remarkable about the town. It had been bustling, but typical in its visage, in the interactions he’d had with the people here.
As the village closest to the Chasm crossing, Dawnspire certainly saw its fair share of travelers. Cedric recalled the noise and excitement swirling around his stay on the way to enter the Crucible. The people had been so excited for a champion to be in their midst. Cedric being there alone might have been exciting enough, but for Lord Paramount Leviathan Church, the king’s favored advisor, to also grace the town with his presence? Well, it actually ended up being quite the party.
It was hard to imagine such a celebration taking place in the Dawnspire Cedric was standing in now. Where before the hustle and bustle of village life had been apparent from the moment he’d set foot in town—people out on the street, yelling, bargaining, animals traipsing about—this quiet, picturesque fairytale felt like a different place entirely.
Aside from Young Shep and Jocelyn, both of whom had volunteered to stay with the horses while the group got their bearings, there was simply nobody out. Cedric could hear faint noises, smelled bread baking and roasting meat, saw smoke curling from chimneys before dispersing into the crisp dusk air. He just had yet to see any actual people.
It felt as though they were walking through a village filled with ghosts. Cedric found himself wishing that Sid would pop out of theshadows and make an appearance, if for no other reason than to add some much-neededlifeto the empty streets.
Still, as they ventured farther down the main road and Cedric caught sight of the sign for the local inn and tavern, his spirits lifted. At least this place looked the same.
He wondered if Elyria would find the cider up to snuff here. He could speak from experience that the bacon was decent, at the very least. A spark of delight flared in his chest at the thought of being perched at one of the friendly booths inside, those emerald-green eyes rolling at him from across the table. He wished he could have more than this last night together before he, Hargrave, Thibault, and Young Shep continued on to Elderglade.
He wanted breakfasts with her. And lunches and dinners and late nights and lazy mornings. He wanted it all.
He looked over to where Elyria was hitching Fjaethe to a nearby post, pulling her staff from where it was attached to the saddle and slinging it over her back.
Her spirits had certainly seemed lifted during the last day of travel. Cedric liked to think it was at least in part due to him. To the tender moment they shared in the woods, despite the fact that it had come to an unfortunately abrupt end when Young Shep finally came looking for Elyria and Cedric, to beckon them back for supper.
Alas, he suspected Elyria’s disposition had far more to do with Raefe’s departure. The temperament of the entire group, in fact, had taken a turn for the better. Well, Tristan, Ollie, Hargrave, and Thraigg seemed about the same as always, which made sense as all four of them seemed blessed with moods that were difficult to sour in the first place. But Jocelyn and Shep were chattier than usual, and even Thibault seemed to have a kind of restless energy zipping through him as they’d approached Dawnspire.
Sephone, as it turned out, was a rather enjoyable traveling companion without Raefe nearby as well. As the earring pierced through the tips of each of her pointed ears reminded Cedric, she was still there on behalf, or at least at the behest, of Master Tartanis, and thus, he trusted her about as far as he’d be able to throw her. Which, given the fae’s stars-given strength and, oh yes, the fact that she couldfly, admittedlywasn’t very far. But she did seem to feel bad about Raefe’s behavior, about the impact his presence had had on Elyria. And at the very least, the level of intimidation she naturally exuded seemed to decrease the more time they all spent together.
She’d even proven herself somewhat useful, in a way. When the group had stopped for their final midday rest before reaching the village, with Thibault and Hargrave off trapping game for their meal, Elyria immediately started badgering Cedric to try lighting the fire once more. Sephone caught them in the middle of another slow-going attempt, just after Cedric had managed to conjure—but quickly lose—a small puff of flame from his fingers.
“So, this is what crawled up Raefe’s ass at the end there,” she’d said, taking a lazy bite from an apple. “You’ve not only been claimed by the Revenant, but you’re a flamecaller too. Curious.”
Elyria had balked, immediately moving toward Sephone with her hackles raised. “You can’t say anything to the other humans,” she’d growled, to which Sephone only lifted her brows with an unspoken question that Cedric felt he understood all too keenly.
Sephone drew her other hand to her mouth, her thumb and pointer finger clamped together as if she were holding a key that she then proceeded to use to lock her lips together. “You’re going about this all wrong anyway,” she continued, humor evident on her sharp-planed face. “You need to visualize the magic?—”
