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Before she panicked, she realized she had better act like herself. She chuckled. “So crude. Why? These laces are too hard for you? And I didn’t get all dressed to get it off that soon.”Delay, delay, delay,Anelise had told her. “And I want to eat first.” But then, how were they getting to the kissing? Naia plucked a grape, still unsure.
He was staring at her. “I don’t have an eternity for this.”
“Isn’t it odd? Young people are always in a hurry, while the old ones are patient, when it should be the opposite.” She was trying to gain time and think, staring at the flames as if they could give her an answer. This was all going wrong, and she didn’t have an eternity either.
Perhaps she was overcomplicating this. They had mingled their magic with a kiss before. Why should it be different now? At least they were alone, undisturbed.
Naia got up and stood by him. “Kiss me, then.”
He put a hand on her chin and then their lips were touching. Naia wanted them closer, so she sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around him. This was not the time to wonder who she was kissing. This was the time to remember River, and remember why they were connected.
She recalled the River that had comforted her after her argument with her father, recalled his music, his words, his smiles, recalled the day she’d been captured by the Ancients and how he had come to her. Even in his worst hour, he had named her queen, perhaps to protect her, and then made sure she was somewhere from where she could escape.
He was not only beautiful but fun and kind. She enjoyed watching the stars with him, enjoyed having him close. Could she feel his mind if she reached out? Could she interfere with his thoughts?
She felt his hands lifting her, then placing her on the mattress. He stared at her, all sweet River, then undid her laces, removing her dress. Naia was half naked, exposed, and yet the feel of his hands, the feel of his nails against the soft skin of her breasts did something to her, ignited a surge of desire—and magic. She pulled his face for another kiss. Kiss, kiss, kiss, and mingle their power, that was what she was here to do.
Shadows danced on the walls from the flames. Flames. Fire. She was resistant to her own fire—and fire was purifying. Was her idea insane? A lot of what she was doing was. He removed her dress and underclothes, so that all her body lay bare to him. Naia then pushed his shirt up, so that they would be skin against skin. Now she could definitely feel an overwhelming surge through her, a power that wasn’t hers. Theywereblending their magic. Magic, fire, magic. The ideas were still blurry, but coming into focus.
“Undress,” she whispered.
He smiled and didn’t take long to do what she had asked and get rid of his pants. Naia avoided looking, then rolled over to the floor, the cold marble cooling down her body, her thoughts, sending another odd shiver through her body. “Here.”
She had expected him to find it weird, but that didn’t seem to be the case, as he was above her in less than a second. It meant that there was nothing around them that could burn.
Naia pulled him close to her, wrapped her arms and legs tight around him, then whispered, “Don’t move.” She tried to put power and intention in her words, tried to weave some magic in them, hoping she was doing it right.
Even if she wasn’t sure if her suggestion had worked, she immediately conjured the strongest blast of fire she could, involving them in a pillar of flames.
River’s yell was a horrifying wail that soon faded. Naia held him tight, glad that she couldn’t feel him burning, and yet still kept that fire alive, thinking about love, thinking about how she had been called to him and vice versa, if it was true that he had seen a light leading him out of the hollow. There was a power connecting them, and Naia surrendered to that power, imbuing her fire with her love for that part of River that was still there, still fighting to get free.
Naia held the flame, held the fire, for what felt like forever. Only when she could no longer hold that powerful flame did she stop, terrified about what she had done.
River lay motionless over her, his eyes closed, as if sleeping. At least he hadn’t gotten burned. Naia rolled him on his back and put her ear near his heart, hearing only silence. She put her hand in front of his nose and felt no breathing.
No, no, no.
Her heart was beating loudly inside her, a drum to accompany her dread.
If death was the only answer, if River had made sure to be here alone with her, she shouldn’t regret what she had done. And yet.
“River.”
She placed a hand on his chest, his skin still warm from the fire, but she wasn’t sure if there was any warmth inside. But then, if he survived, she wasn’t sure if this would cut the ties with Cynon, and that would mean she would be in danger.
“River,” she called again, even as she saw no sign of life in him.
Was this the end, then? A good thing, of course. A good deed. Bitter good deed.
Naia kissed his lips softly. “River, come back. Come back for me. If you can.”
A tear dropped from her face, falling right on his chest. And then another. None of this was what she wanted, and yet, even his sister wouldn’t censure her. If anything, this was a heroic act, something only she could do. She still couldn’t quite understand how he let himself be so vulnerable. And now he could be gone.
* * *
Fel was approachingthe ocean very fast. Too fast. And he had no wings. How he wished he was in dragon form again. Wishing wasn’t going to save him. What could save him, then?
It came to him in a flash: his magic.
