Page 49 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

Torin’s face went straight with concern. He took a step back, honouring her space.

Whatever this was? It wasn’t right!

She knew Cally was into Torin and that it wasn’t fair to be doing this. Even if Cally was dancing with someone else and clearly moving on.

She shook her head as she shoved through the crowd. Locating the table where Gideon had been sitting, dread hit her with a smack. He was no longer there. And there was no sign of the blonde barmaid, either. Her stomach swirled all the consumed liquid around like a whirlpool of intoxication.

She needed air, now.

Her eyes ran over the tavern, searching for the door which led to the street.

There! She darted across the space, smacking into anyone and everyone, and pushed the door open with two hands. Fresh air hit her face, cold and hard, and she took in the smell of smoke and alcohol coming from the people standing outside. Inhaling a large breath, filling her lungs she tried to clear her mind.

And for the first time all night, Emara felt the stone burn into the back of her trouser pocket—reminding her why she had come to the markets in the first place.

The markets looked completely different from when Emara had first walked through them. The stalls were murkier and seedier now that she was alone. She pulled her arms tighter to her torso and a tremor ran down her spine, causing her shoulders to pull in. The people of the markets were weaving in and out, some drunk, some working, and some killing time.

A female voice called seductively from her left, “Hey, honey, are you looking for love tonight?”

Caught off guard, Emara looked up to the podium that she had just passed. A red-haired female winked and gestured a crooked finger for her to come closer, her eyes dark with glamourous coal. Trying not to be rude, Emara raised a hand to offer a polite “No, thank you.” It was the first time a girl had ever tried to make a move on her. She kept her face forward, trying not to make eye contact with a large man who was sitting behind a stall with fighting knives. The man’s face was covered in tattoos, and a scar ran right through his mouth. The markets were boldly different without the security of the Blacksteels.

She didn’t know where to begin her search for someone who could give her information on the mysterious stone with so many alley paths leading to different stalls. It was a maze of tents.

Walking along, her concentration turned to the circumstances of the tavern: Cally had secured a guy in the efforts to make Torin jealous, Gideon had clearly been flirting with a girl who he maybe had history with, given what she had seen. He’d looked comfortable enough to have had something with her. To still have something with her.

She tried to brush down the niggling feeling in her chest of unrequired jealousy. She had no right to be jealous. And as for Torin? Had he attempted to kiss her? Charm her? She tried to replay the scene over in her head, the drinks, the crowd, the dancing.

Dance with me.

His intense eyes, his dangerous smile. His God-like frame which held mountains of muscle…

Stop! The command screamed through her head and she halted in the middle of the street.

The glowing winter sun was now lost in the darkness of the night and a sudden draft of cold made her shiver.

“Emara,” her name barked through the markets.

She turned to see Torin running through the crowd, unapologetically moving people out of his path. He halted as she turned to face him fully.

“Leave me alone.” She turned and continued to walk down the path she had chosen by a spice stall.

“Emara,” he called again as he powered into a light jog.

She wasn’t sure if she could look back at him without seeing him running a hand over her face, almost brushing her lips. And, well, truthfully, she didn’t know where to place those feelings. The guilt of hurting Cally ate at her, even though nothing had happened.

“Wait!” he called again, his voice gruff but smooth at the same time, like two tones challenging each other. This time she could hear his feet pounding the path behind her before she could see him.

“I said wait!” His voice deepened with a hint of temper.

Emara stopped dead.

As he caught up with her, he swivelled in front, putting out his hands. “What happened back there?” He searched her face for answers.

“It…I don’t know. It felt wrong.” She folded her arms. The heat of the stone still burned in her pocket.

“I don’t want you to feel wrong,” he said it like he truly meant it. “We were just having fun. It didn’t mean anything,” he spoke quietly, his eyes puzzled.

“Yeah? Well, it might not have to you, but it would maybe mean something to Cally.”

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