Page 147 of The Demon Tide

I let out a gasp as violet light washes over the Realm, wave upon wave of cheers and music exploding throughout the city, an expansive elation filling my chest as countless purple runic orbs rise from every tier and from the rune boats thickly dotting the river. Lilac fireworks burst over the river in a shimmering display as the city comes alive with joyous revelry.

I peer back up at the Xishlon moon, transfixed, its lush light washing over me in a subtle caress, the tension in my shoulders slackening of its own accord as an ardent thought rises—a vivid remembrance of the feel of Lukas’s lips on mine, the two of us entwined in the forest, our matching affinities melding. My cheeks flush as longing for him swells along with the moon’s strengthening glow before the memory shifts to a flush-deepening recollection of Yvan’s heated embrace in the North Tower that night in my bed...

I brace myself for the stinging conflict such thoughts are bound to prompt, only to find them imbued with a softer sensation—as if the Xishlon moon itself is giving me permission to fully admit to loving and wanting them both.

And thetrees...

All of the trees in the expansive First Tier gardens are glowing with every shade of purple. My wand hand twitches with the desire to meet with them, the garden-forest’s unexpected draw almost as enticing as the moon’s thrall.

Black Witch, rises on the night air, not angrily, but gently beckoning, as sinuous Xishlon music wafts up around me.

Get hold of yourself, Elloren, I harshly caution myself.You’re not some Dryad who can frolic through forest groves washed in lavender moonlight as if partaking in a lovers tryst.

Sage’s warning to Or’myr echoes through my mind—

Whatever you do, keep her away from the trees.

“Can you feel the moon’s pull?” Or’myr asks.

I turn toward my cousin, not the slightest bit fooled by his unfazed tone. His aura is lit up around him like a Xishlon runic orb. “It’s stronger than I thought it would be,” I admit.

He lets out a long sigh. “Well, there’s nothing to do now but wait Xishlon out. It would be near impossible to concentrate on anything of consequence at the moment.” He gestures toward the purple tea service he’s put out for us. “I’ll pour you some tea, cousin.”

Eager for the distraction, I accept the tea, his dark mushroom brew reminiscent of chocolate. “This is quite good, Or’myr.”

His eyes glint with satisfaction. “I’ve a small mushroom farm here. I’m a bit of a hobbyist, you’ll find.” He lowers his tone to a stage whisper. “Don’t tell anyone. I want them to go on picturing all manner of mystery and debauchery going on here in my glamoured tower.”

We exchange bemused smiles. “I suppose mushroom farming in damp caverns might ruin your sorcerer mystique,” I tease.

A short laugh escapes him. “It’s not generally famed for its sexual allure.”

My eyes widen, such joking not done in the Western Realm, one of so many things that serves to highlight the very different worlds we grew up in.

I lift my wand arm as the sting coursing over my upper arm slides down a notch. “I can feel Sage’s magic working its way down my arm.”

Or’myr nods and takes gentle hold of my wrist, his gaze roving over the line of runes, the deep-plum glow of the zoisite stones wrapped around my arm having dimmed once more.

“We’ve about twelve hours to go with geo-amplification,” he remarks, frowning at the crystals. “I’m going to need fresh zoisite. These are only a few hours away from being depleted.” His gaze slides to Rivyr’el’s silvery tracking rune, the rune that will lead me to Lukas.

He looks up at me, a hesitant curiosity in his gaze. “Do you love him?” he quietly asks.

I’m silent for a moment, aware that he’s likely being drawn to this focus on love by the moon’s pull, the frank, personal inquiry seeming out of character for my reserved cousin. I tussle with the question, uncomfortably aware that my feelings for Yvan were on full display to Or’myr and everyone else when we convened in the sublands.

“I love Lukas a great deal,” My voice catches around the words. “But... I love Yvan too. I thought Yvan was dead. And I had to align with Lukas for protection, and then...” I swallow against the sudden swell of emotion. “And then...we were Sealed. I grew to love him over a very short span of time.”

We’re both quiet for another moment.

“That’s a difficult situation,” Or’myr says, compassion in his tone.

I nod, unable to speak, his kind presence kicking up a wilderness of irreconcilable feelings. “I’m scared for Lukas. I’m trying not to think on it too deeply, because...when I do, I start to feel paralyzed...or like I want to grab hold of some wood and explode something.”

“Then let it go for now,” Or’myr encourages.

I nod, choked up, as I take in the lavender moon, the violet stars, the glittering purple city spread out before us. I rest my elbows on the balcony’s cool, purple stone railing, feeling perilously close to baring my heart to my cousin completely. “The moon,” I say instead, “it’s incredibly beautiful.”

“I suppose,” Or’myr returns, a sardonic edge to his tone.

“Have you ever taken part in all of this?”

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