Page 47 of Heart of Night and Fire

Aarav came out on the balcony wearing the same rumpled brown kurta and beige dhoti he did every day. He’d thrown a cream vest over the garb, and Zarya supposed that was his attempt to dress up for the occasion. She’d never seen him wear anything else in all the years they’d lived together, and all three of them surveyed him with a bemused look.

“What?” Aarav asked, looking down at himself with his hands spread. “Is something wrong?”

Yasen closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as if begging for patience, muttering something Zarya couldn’t make out under his breath.

“Where are we going?” Zarya asked, turning away from Aarav, not about to let him derail her excitement.

Vikram held out a crooked elbow towards her. “It’s a surprise.” There was that unmistakable burn in his gaze again, his eyes sweeping her over as nervous anticipation bloomed in her stomach. Zarya hoped this was going to be a night to remember. The kind of night someone might write about in one of her books.

They left the haveli and headed towards an area of the city Zarya hadn’t explored yet. As they entered the bustling fray of the Rata Quarter, it was evident Zarya and her companions weren’t the only ones with revelry on their minds tonight. They skirted past teeming taverns, music and chatter spilling out their open windows.

All around them, exuberant Dharatis shared drinks, food, conversation, and much more. Zarya noticed a man and woman having a very private moment on the edges of an extensive seating area, the woman straddling the man’s lap and his hands gripped around her waist. The woman rolled her hips as their mouths clashed in a frantic kiss, seemingly oblivious that they weren’t alone.

Zarya exhaled a breath, wondering if Vikram had noticed the couple as well. Their eyes met, and something told her he had and was maybe—hopefully—having similar thoughts to hers.

They stopped in front of a building made of smooth white marble carved with intricate designs. Music thundered from inside, so loud that even the ground outside vibrated with the beat. Lights flashed in the open windows that ran almost the height of the wall, letting in the evening breeze and revealing a large room packed with dancing people.

Zarya grinned, in love with absolutely everything tonight. A broad-chested devakin stood at the door. A small winged tattoo at the corner of his left eye marked him as half vidyadhara.

Zarya had learned that devakin bore their half-magical lineage as a point of pride, and the practice of declaring one’s heritage with a face marking had become fashionable across the continent. Wings delineated one as vidyadhara, while a flame was used for agni, a water drop for merdevas, a leaf for rakshasas, and a circle for healers. Zarya again wondered if her latent magic meant she was devakin, except that her star power didn’t align with any of the known branches of magic. She was an anomaly in every way, it seemed.

Vikram exchanged a few words with the vidyadhara devakin, gesturing to Zarya, Yasen, and Aarav before the man nodded and pulled aside the green velvet curtain that hung over the entrance. The devakin flashed them all a puckish grin as they entered.

Through the curtain, an indoor luminescent forest revealed itself. Reminiscent of Rani Vasvi’s throne room, the floor was covered in a thick carpet of springy moss. Trees lined the walls, their branches and leaves creating a high canopy overhead. Low branches and vines brushed the ground, and everything was covered in flowers of every size, shape, and color imaginable.

Copper lights hung suspended overhead, where tiny winged creatures flitted through the air, darting in and out of the greenery. “Peri,” Vikram said into Zarya’s ear, his hand pressing into the small of her bared back. She shivered at the brush of his warm breath on her skin, watching the human-like forms swooping and diving in the air.

The peri anada hummed with an array of humans, devakin, rakshasas, and an assortment of other species for which Zarya had no name. The most noticeable and striking were the dozens of stunning beings pouring drinks, serving tables, and standing around looking decadent enough to eat… amongst other things.

“Fairies. Half human, half peri,” Vikram said, his voice dropping with a hint of suggestion. “Here to make all your wildest fantasies come true.”

She glanced up at him, both shocked and definitely intrigued by the idea.

The fairies’ skin glistened in gold and silver and blue and pink and purple, their brilliant jewel-toned hair falling in long, thick curls. Their enormous sparkling eyes encompassed a rainbow of hues, and they wore clothes that could barely be called that—thin gossamer scraps covering only the bits that needed covering, exposing lean thighs, taut bellies, and miles of lush skin.

Zarya and the others were ushered to a table in the corner, where they sat and absorbed the surrounding activity. A long bar lined the back wall where several male fairies, all bare-chested and chiseled with muscle, were pouring complex drinks in hues of orange and yellow and gold and green. They tipped them into intricate glasses that looked almost too delicate to touch.

A curvy female fairy made her way over to them. Her skin sparkled purple, and her hair was a cascade of pure white streaked with a shocking shade of violet. Her amethyst eyes were surrounded by thick black liner and the longest lashes Zarya had ever seen. She oozed flirtatiousness. Her barely-there dress was made of a thin, lustrous material that scarcely covered her perfectly rounded ass and magnificently propped up her ample breasts. Zarya couldn’t take her eyes off her.

“Drinks?” she asked, one hand resting on her cocked hip, the other balancing a crystal tray at her shoulder. Yasen ordered a round for the table, and the fairy sauntered away, her hips swinging in a way that had more than one set of eyes devouring the sight of her departure.

Zarya turned her attention to the dance floor where two green-skinned male fairies were dancing together—if one could call it that. They were gyrating around each other, their hips pressed together with not an inch of space between them. They flipped around, back-to-back and then front-to-front. Zarya felt her cheeks flushing further, noting the way it was affecting them both, thanks to the tiny scraps of tight clothing barely covering their hips.

The shimmering purple fairy returned, this time with her tray laden with crystal glasses garnished with fruits, flowers, and sparkling stir sticks.

Zarya grabbed a pale green glass adorned with candied pineapple and a thick swirl of coconut. She took a tentative sip and almost choked as the alcohol seared her throat.

Yasen laughed and slapped her on the back. “Peri concoctions are known for packing a punch.”

He took a deep draft of his drink that gleamed ruby red in the flashing lights, a cluster of raspberries sitting at the bottom of the glass. Zarya took another sip, this time prepared for it. Once she got past the initial prickle, she could taste the tropical notes of coconut and pineapple layered with something more earthy and subtle. It was delicious.

“Care to dance?” came a deep voice from behind Zarya.

One of the male fairies she’d been watching earlier was holding out a pale green hand. She twisted in her chair and saw his companion at the next table, bowing to another young woman, also in invitation.

Zarya exchanged glances with the woman—who seemed just as scandalized and curious as she was—and they grinned in mutual solidarity.

“Sure, why not?” she said, turning back to the fairy waiting for her. She picked up her glass and tossed the contents back, grimacing as it burned down her throat.