Page 59 of Flame and Sparrow

The God of Fire glanced from the griffin to me, his eyes seeming to shift between silver and a darker, stormier grey as they settled on my face.

“It’s been nearly a month since I arrived,” I said, voice wavering only slightly under his challenging gaze. “Which might not be long to a god, but it’s a long time tome—I can’t be expected to just hide within a golden fence forever and not ask any questions.”

He opened his mouth but closed it nearly as quickly.

“I’m not used to being caged in,” I said.

He considered this for a long moment before he muttered, “Not by gold, perhaps.”

“What isthatsupposed to mean?”

He sat up, fully abandoning the glare he’d had on the ceiling and fixing it completely on me instead.

Heat swelled in my chest, making me feel—as I had the first time I’d looked upon his godly form—that the fire in his gaze was scouring away all the things I was attempting to hide from him and everyone else.

He stared at my scoured-clean self for a long moment, clearly deep in thought, yet making no remark on whatever he saw hidden beneath the outer layers.

He got to his feet and started to walk away from me—but I was not going to be dismissed like last time. I didn’t care if he was having second thoughts about our arrangement.

“We made a deal,” I reminded him, my tone soft but savage, as I rose to my feet as well.

“I haven’t gone back on anything we agreed to. I’ve simply been more preoccupied than I expected I’d be these past weeks.”

“Preoccupied by what?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“As long as I’m here, itismy concern, isn’t it?”

Moth let out a low chirp, as if agreeing with me, and Dravyn’s angry stare turned briefly toward the griffin.

“I don’t like being surrounded by so many secrets,” I said, drawing the attention back to me. “If there is something I’m not supposed to do, somewhere I’m not supposed to go, then of course I want to knowwhy.”

“A written guide to the divine courts and all their problems?” he sneered. “That’s what you want, I take it?”

I nearly threw up my hands and shoutedyes! That’s exactly what I want!But I knew that wasn’t the reply he was looking for; sometimes I struggled to recognize sarcasm, but thus far, his had been obvious enough every time.

He walked away from me, moving to pluck a star-shaped fruit from one of the trees along the atrium’s edge.

I followed closely behind. “You have to warn me about things,” I insisted.

“I don’thaveto do anything, Little Sparrow.”

“Then you can’t get angry if I—”

He spun around to face me. I realized then how close I’d pressed to him. Stupidly close. He took a single step forward, and suddenly he wastooclose, the symbols upon his skin too bright as they blazed through his shirt, the heat from his dormant power building, threatening to erupt.

It was reflex—and maybe a touch of panic—that swung my hand forward, tossing the water from my cup toward his face.

Fire flared between us quickly enough to evaporate the liquid before it touched his skin. Steam billowed, and we stood in the clouds of it for several tense moments without speaking, chests heaving in search of calm breaths, hands clenched into fists.

Moth fluttered closer, perching on the branch of a nearby tree, leaning forward as if preparing for the climax of a dramatic play.

Dravyn flicked his wrist, tossing a last bit of fire from his fingertips. The motion felt laced with threat. I drew my arm back, preparing to strike before he could.

I was fast.

He was faster.

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