Page 97 of Kissed By the Gods
Someone sitting next to Tyrston puts a hand on his arm and whispers in his ear. Tyrston jerks his arm back and storms out of the provisionary.
The air in the room is decidedly fraught, no one moving, until Faelon mutters, “I told you we all need a good fuck. This shit doesn’t happen when everyone is freshly fucked.”
I swing wide eyes over to Faelon.
Caius stares him down. “And I told you, you can’t say shit like that anymore.”
“What?!” Faelon gripes. “I’m sure Leina understands the stress-relieving power of a good fucking.”
I blink once. Twice. Then I burst out laughing. The others around me start to chuckle, everyone retaking their seats.
“You’re right, Faelon. When is it our turn to go to the brothel?” I ask.
He grins at me. “It’s a pleasure house,” he says overly offended. “And we’ll definitely go when you get back from Elandors Veil. To celebrate.”
WhenI get back from Elandors Veil. Not if.
I hold up my tankard of mead. “A toast then,” I say. “To sex and to Elandors Veil.”
Faelon eagerly raises his glass in the air, but Thalric puts his hand on Faelon’s arm, holding his cup down.
“No,” Thalric says, holding up his own cup. “To family.”
My eyes are a bit wet as I raise my mug, but I don’t cry. I refuse to cry.
“To family,” I echo.
The others follow, their voices layered and strong. It’s better than friendship. It’sbelonging.
But that night, I dream of fire and screaming, of blood in the soil, and of shadows reaching for people I love.
And I remember how fragile a family can be.
Lie down, little one, and close your eyes,
The Veil winds call with ancient sighs.
They thread through bone, through breath, through flame,
And bind all souls with secret names.
So fear no dark, nor death’s domain,
No whispered curse, no creeping pain?—
For though you sleep in shadowed light,
The Veil will claim you.
And hold you tight.
"Songs of the River-Veil," a traditional Selencian cradlesong
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
