Page 50 of This Midsummer Heart
“I’m just tired.” She doesn’t look up at me again, just continues her slog through the sometimes water-logged path. “The air is too heavy in here. The boughs are too low to ride. If this city is much farther—“
“More of a town,” I correct.
She rolls her eyes. “Let’s not start that argument again.”
I cannot help but smile, even though our stop in Adellor feels so very long ago. “If you’re too tired, I can carry you.”
At last, I have her attention. Her brows rise. “Aren’t you tired?”
I shrug. “Dark elf lands.”And dark elf magic coursing through my veins. Magic I don’t even know what to do with.“No, I’m not tired. But I am weary, if that makes sense.”
Without further discussion, Titaine begins to walk again, her feet dragging just a little less than before. She’s trying to compete with me, and for what? We’re not the enemies we were. I don’t even know if our Houses—my former House—is still in a rivalry with hers, now that they must be settled in the City of Nox.
“You’re being stubborn,” I say.
Titaine ignores me. “Are those fireflies up ahead?”
Instinctively, my hand goes to the hilt of the Blade of Hedril, expecting more wisps trying to lead us astray. But she’s right. Fireflies dance ahead, floating around the bend in the path. When at last we reach that curve in the road, Titaine gasps.
I don’t blame her. The last time I was here, this clearing was nothing but stalks. Now, a field of nightflowers, just like their sunflower counterparts, is in full bloom, their purple centers arched to face the dimming sky above them like adoring children. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen these flowers. When the moon climbs overhead, they glow silver, lighting up the entire field.
And it isn’t just the flowers. Fireflies bob low beneath the leaves, while swallows swoop toward the blooms, searching for bugs and to steal the seeds that are a staple of Embersdeep. Frogs chirp loudly along with them, their songs coming from both the trees and the banks of the broad river beyond this field, the waters glowing red from the scales of the fireswamp’s snakes as they wind through the waters.
We’ve nearly reached the city. Up ahead, surrounded by the river, comforting lantern lights mix with the red-orange of the embermoss. The circular huts built high around the trunks of trees are lit from within, adding a softer, more inviting glow to the boughs.
Titaine just gapes at it all, Giselda’s reins slack in her hand.
“What?” I ask, though I cannot keep the smile from my voice, somehow pleased by her wonderment over dark elf land that isn’t even mine.
“I didn’t say anything,” she says, closing her mouth at last now that she is done staring. Still, her eyes scan over the field, taking it all in.
“Mm, but your thoughts are loud,” I reply.
Titaine eyes me sidelong. “If you could hear my thoughts, I’m not sure you’d still be smiling.”
“That depends. Are they you’re innermost thoughts? Those might not make me smile, but they just might make me blush.”
She surprises me by snorting. “Not everything is about you, Auberon.”
I gesture to the swamp around us. “Clearly.” I can’t help but add, “But I think more than a few of your dreams are. Just what were you dreaming of in that last inn? You must’ve really regretted making me sleep on the floor.”
She tuts. “A gentleman would’ve gladly taken the floor.”
“A gentleman whose back hurts less, I’m sure.”
“I thought you were fine?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Your pace said it for you.”
“It’s not my fault I have longer le—Can we please stop bickering and go find someplace to rest?” I swat away a mosquito from Titaine’s curling hair.
She regards me almost as appraisingly.
“What?” I’m forced to ask a second time.
“Nothing. I’m just not used to you being sensible.”
