Page 21 of Sons of Sorrow
“We should all go into the oriel together.”
The Hernandez sisters turned to me as one. Bruna’s expression was one of relief, like she was so glad to have others around to serve as buffers between her and her very abrasive sister. Luna’s expression was harder to read. She seemed amused, yet somehow also slightly offended.
“Yeah,” I said, struggling not to stammer. “All together. The two of you, me, Sylvain, and Satchel. Oh. Luna, Sylvain and Satchel are my eidolon and my familiar. Technically, Sylvain’s also my boyfriend.”
Luna’s other eyebrow cocked this time, her hip also cocking in the same direction. “Curious. Now you have my attention.”
“Oh. I’m a summoner. I summon beings to help me in fights. You know, elemental creatures. A cat. Some birds. That sort of things.”
I’d never seen anyone lose interest in a conversation faster. “Ah. So you’re someone who specializes in asking for help.”
“Luna!” Bruna said. “Don’t be so rude.”
“I really am an expert in asking for help,” I said, a smile on my face. “It’s okay to admit when you need some. You know, just like you’re asking your sister for help right now. You should try it more often, and maybe without so much attitude. Being nice is free.”
Bruna froze. Luna scowled. I tensed my muscles, trying my very hardest not to laugh out loud.
“Okay,” Luna said, her voice softer. Friendlier, even. “Guess you’re not a doormat, then. I thought my sister’s friends would be just like her. Color me surprised.”
“Get over yourself, Luna.” Bruna finally turned the keys in her hand, unlocking her office door. The conversation was over. “I’m not a doormat. I’m just trying to be a good sister. That’s all.”
Luna’s cheeks reddened. She lowered her head just far enough for her hair to frame more of her face, like she didn’t want anyone seeing.
“Just tell me when you’re ready to go,” she said gruffly. “Locke. It was — okay to meet you.”
I didn’t respond. Luna Hernandez stomped off the way she came. I followed Bruna into her office, the air sweet with the smell of the dried herbs and flowers stored in her alchemical lab.
“Yikes,” I said, pulling the door shut behind me. “That was awkward. Sorry. Or condolences?”
She laughed, dropping her keys in a bowl by the door. “Imagine growing up with that.”
“How come you never told us you had a sister?” I asked, immediately recalling how Namirah had never really talked about her brother, either. “Or are you more comfortable pretending to be an only child, just like Namirah?”
Bruna rubbed her face blearily. “Again, Locke. Imagine growing up with that. There’s actually three of us. We’ve got an older sister, too. Surprise, I’m the middle child. Sucks. Gods, I could use a drink. You want one?”
“Absolutely,” I said, practically tripping over myself as I followed her.
She made a beeline for the mini fridge at the back of her office. Somehow it always slipped my mind that an amazing alchemist like Bruna would also know how to mix some amazing cocktails.
10
I shookmy hands and blew on them briskly, counting on my breath to warm up my fingers. No such luck. Who knew that handling the autumn baubles could be so uncomfortable? It wasn’t so bad, at first, stringing a few of the acorns and pinecones onto garlands.
But with bare hands, each of the baubles was nearly as cold as an ice cube. The cumulative effect of touching so many of them in sequence was really doing a number on my poor fingers. I sucked on one of them as I glanced around my bedchambers, wondering if it’d be worth scouring the room for those winter gloves I’d misplaced so long ago.
“Pick up the pace,” Satchel said, marching up and down the table, the overseer of his own pixie sweatshop. “It’s almost bedtime and the two of you are barely even close to finished.”
Sylvain, Prince of the Autumn Court, nodded obediently, feverishly stringing more of the baubles together. I couldn’t really explain why a fae prince and a summoner were taking orders from a very sassy little pixie. Still, I had to admit that Satchel’s unorthodox motivational methods were working.
Using some of the supplies he’d whipped out of his pocket dimension, we’d successfully transformed most of the autumn baubles into wearable objects. Charms, bracelets, necklaces, any form that would allow us to adorn ourselves in ambient cold enchantments. In large enough quantities, they could help stave off some of the Oriel of Fire’s heat.
Satchel had actually done his fair share of the work, too, mainly on augmenting his own clothing with bits of the baubles. Again, he couldn’t just strut into the oriel wearing a pinecone as a pendant. He needed to focus and make creative modifications that would work for a person his size.
An hour or so later, I rubbed at my eyes blearily, draining the last of a cup of green tea that had long gone ice cold. I smacked my lips and yawned, feeling more than ready for bed. It was our last night at the Wispwood before we rolled out for the Oriel of Fire, and getting the baubles together was the last of the prep work that really needed to be done.
“In the morning,” I grumbled to myself, realizing I was alone at the table. “We’ll finish in the morning.”
Sylvain had gone to bed ahead of me, which was understandable considering how tired he must have been from his angry swimming session. Satchel had found his way to our bed as well, falling asleep on Sylvain’s chest. All tuckered out from cracking the whip and bossing us around earlier, perhaps.
