Page 64 of The Demon Tide

North Wyvernguard Island, Noilaan

Eastern Realm

Sixth Month

Vothendrile

“You seem happier.”

Trystan looks at me the next evening, both of us leaning against the Wyvernguard’s lower terrace railing, facing west toward the Vo Mountain Range and the Zonor River beyond.

“I’ve carved out a small place for myself here,” Trystan muses. “With Minyl and RuSolyl and Sylla and Viger...” He turns to me. “And you.” A charge runs through us both, lighting up the longing in his eyes. And it’s strong.

Trystan’s lips part and my breath hitches, elation rushing through me.

“Be my Xishlon’vir, Trystan Gardner,” I breathlessly offer.

Trystan stills. “What are you asking me?”

“A Xishlon’vir...it’s the one you’ve chosen to kiss under the Xishlon moon. But it’s more than a kiss. It’s the beginning of a formal courtship. It’s a great blessing to begin a courtship on Xishlon.”

I wait for his answer, everything in me swept up in the yearning I feel crackling through his magic.

Trystan’s lips tilt up. “You want to court me?”

My power leaps. “I do,” I say, my heart bursting open. “Be my Xishlon’vir, Trystan.”

Trystan pulls in a wavering breath. His brow knots, tears welling in his eyes.

“Have you ever been kissed?” I ask, teasing and deeply serious at the same time. Wanting to kiss away his tears.

Trystan lets out a short laugh. “No.”

“I wish I could make you my Xislon’vir right now.”

He tilts his head, bringing his pierced, green-glimmering mouth a fraction closer to mine. “I’ve...thought about kissing you on more than one occasion.”

“Does this mean you’ll say yes?”

Trystan gives me the most emotional smile I’ve ever seen on his face, and joy overtakes me. I can feel the yes in that smile. And in the way his magic eddies toward mine.

“Mage Gardner.”

His name booms out from across the terrace and we both turn, a contingent of four soldiers striding toward us with grim, determined expressions.

Defensive lightning sparks in both Trystan and myself.

The straight-backed soldier in the lead halts directly before Trystan, her gaze locked on him, both of our smiles whisked away as I sense their urgency.

The soldier’s gaze sharpens on Trystan. “You’re wanted in Ung Li’s chambers.Immediately.”

Trystan

“Your sister, Elloren Gardner, is the Black Witch.”

My water power shudders then stills, suspended in my center as I stare, dumbfounded, at Commander Ung Li. Clarity avalanches in, and I understand fully, in that moment, why we’re standing in Ung Li’s private tower, surrounded by soldiers. Why they confiscated my wand before we entered.

And why Elloren’s journey here has taken so long.

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