Page 16 of Flame and Sparrow

Her eyes had never left Andrel.

The room remained perfectly still, and in the quiet stillness the sunlight filtering through the curtains seemed brighter all of a sudden, illuminating the cracked plaster walls and the chipped marble floors as though to illustrate Kinnara’s point.

The old houses have fallen.

It was clear she thought the conversation finished—that there was only one response we could possibly give to her declarations.

Andrel said nothing.

Nor did Cillian.

The quiet stretched on for a painfully long time.

I could no longer stand it. I cleared my throat, stepping farther into the room with my arms wrapped more tightly than ever around the things I carried, making certain nothing and no part of me shook.

“Breakfast is ready,” I said quietly.

But we hardly ate anything at all.

Chapter5

Later that night,I woke from a stretch of fitful sleep and stumbled my way down to the kitchen for a drink.

After downing a glass of water, I went outside and found Andrel alone, sitting on the front steps of his old home with his chin resting thoughtfully on a propped-up fist.

He was beautiful in the moonlight, beige skin and dark hair shimmering with a pale blue glow. Despite the warm night, he wore a heavy cloak with bramble-wrapped daggers stitched along its hood—symbols of the House of Moreth. A reminder of his royal heritage…though whether meant for himself or our visitors, I wasn’t sure.

There were piles of pebbles beside him. Rocks he’d crushed into pieces, I suspected; it was a restless habit of his whenever he was lost in thought.

He could crush them with only a gentle closing of his fist.

All elves were strong compared to humans, but his strength was different. A curse as much as an asset—like my claws or Kinnara’s fangs—in his case because it came and went so unpredictably. He’d worked hard to try and wrestle some sort of control over it, but without much success. Sometimes he crushed things without meaning to. Other times, the supernatural strength abandoned him when he needed it most.

I’d often thought it a cruel metaphor for our kind as a whole—so much power coursing through our veins and our histories, yet we couldn’t seem to properly harness our collective strength and put an end to all our problems.

The piles around Andrel numbered at least a couple dozen, with more intact rocks stacked at his boots.

How long had he been out here crushing them?

I cleared my throat. “You look lonely.”

He tilted his face toward me and gave a crooked smile. “Why should I be lonely? Kinnara and the rest of them have decided to stay the night. Our home is overrun with more people than it has welcomed in some time…I haven’t had a moment alone in hours—until now.”

“Lonely and alone don’t mean the same thing,” I pointed out.

I glimpsed his smile inching higher before he looked back to the shadow-draped yard before us. “You’re right. As usual.”

I considered sweeping away the dust and sitting beside him, but something made me hesitate.

“But I’m neither of those things,” he said. “Though I wouldn’t say no to your company, if you’re offering. You know I prefer it to most.” He kept his eyes straight ahead, but I felt as if he had turned and stared directly, unabashedly at me.

I shook my head but ended up giving in and mirroring his smile as I settled down on the step in front of him, avoiding the rocky messes. I sensed his body shifting, angling toward mine. My sensitive hearing picked up the sound of his heart beating slightly faster.

Feeling a blush coming on, I busied myself with counting the crushed rocks, avoiding his gaze. Twenty-five piles of dust in total. I moved on to counting the trees, the stars, the broken spires atop the fence wrapping the yard.

Andrel and I were strictly friends—business partners, at most.

Or wehadbeenuntil recently, at least.

---