Page 9 of The Fires of Longest Night
“Oh!” Ria feels like a fool. “So… You’re giving me this drug so that I can…”
“Give that girl a night that will let her know what she would be giving up, should she just go along with her father’s plans. So that she knows she has choices. Real, actual choices. With real, actual stakes, not just for the rest of us, but for her. Yes.”
Ria feels her cheeks heat again, but she gives Illima a grin. “I can give her choices,” she says softly, letting every fantasy she’s ever entertained about giving Nissa pleasure cascade through her mind.
Blood-bonded, please.Isiridion sounds entertained, but also mildly annoyed.Restraint.
Not tonight, dragon. No restraint tonight. Unless she asks for it, of course.
The dragon snorts in her head.
“I will give her every choice.” Ria’s voice resonates with feeling, and Illima’s smile is affectionate. “So how do I take this?”
“Eat it. It will taste like arse, and I’m sorry about that, but it really can’t be helped. And then you’ll have about twelve hours, give or take, of no pain and a decent dose of energy.”
Ria nods slowly. “The children are already abed. It won’t be long ‘til it’s time to dance the rainforest.”
Illima nods. “You should eat it now. Chew it until it’s gone. Don’t swallow anything whole.”
Ria draws a ragged breath and puts the ball into her mouth. Bitterness floods her mouth, followed by a rush as her saliva seeks to counteract it. She chews, forcing herself to keep going despite the flavor. Illima watches her for a moment, then gives her a swift smile, and pats her knee. “Have a good night, Ria.”
Ria can’t do much more than nod in response.
CHAPTER 6
NISSA
It’s difficult to keep her eyes from drifting back to Ria, sitting glum and pained by the fire, but Nissa can feel her father’s weighty gaze on her. If she spends too much time at Ria’s side here in the flickering light of the encampment fire, she knows her father might even be drawn into making some public statement about what she can and cannot do.
And Nissa will not have her choices taken from her like this. They are hers to make.Hers.They will not be taken from her. Not on this Longest Night, the one night that suspends every other promise that might bind people to their duties.
Tonight, the priority is the light: sustaining it through the night so that the sun will rise.
Of course, even as she thinks this, half of her is digging in heels already about the way he is expecting her to give up her choices to him and his plans for the clan, while the other half scans the encampment, listing the names of those they had lost since the last Longest Night.
Too many who should be here are gone. Undril. Scarlia. Petrovun and little Kada. Herolyn. Even the thought of all they’ve lost makes Nissa’s eyes well briefly. She blinks the tearsaway before anyone can catch sight of the Warlord’s daughter crying on Longest Night. She doesn’t want to make anyone wonder or worry about what she might weep over. If there was ever a moment to let the grief go, this is it. They must hold onto the light tonight.
She glances across at Ria and finds her sparkling gaze warm on her. Nissa flushes again and gives her a shy smile. How can she still be shy with this woman?
Then Oril hooks the tambor around his neck, picking up the padded sticks, ready to pound them out into the rainforest. Will Ria be whole enough to venture into the dance with her? Her heart leaps into her throat at the thought, and she glances across at her again. But she’s gone. A quick scan of the crowd makes Nissa frown. Where is she?
Oril gives a yell, and then begins a quick drum roll, leading the other drummers into the song. She swallows, but Kaderlyn shoves a lit lantern into her hand, and then Terisa grabs her arm and yanks her towards the forest, already singing.
Nissa laughs at her friend, raising her voice in the song as well. She dances the steps onto the path, but a short distance into the forest, she spirals out of Terisa’s grip, off into the shadows. The drumbeat echoes around her, in her hips swinging and in her feet, pounding against the soil. The scent of eucalypt and other leaves gone soft and sweet and rich is kicked up by the encampment’s collective dance, even in the chill air.
Where is Ria?
Just as the cool of the night begins to bite into her shoulders, there’s a quiet noise behind her. Ria’s arms encircle her, her nose sliding up Nissa’s neck, her breath cascading across her skin and waking every nerve. Nissa’s breath hitches, and she suppresses a moan, sinking back into Ria’s warmth, feeling the soft strength of her torso against her back.
“I thought you might not be well enough…” she murmurs into the darkness.
“I wouldn’t miss this night for the world, Nissa,” Ria says, and her voice is somehow deeper and darker than Nissa has ever heard it. Goosebumps rise across her forearms, and her stomach tightens.
“Is that so?” she whispers. She gathers her courage and turns, raising her lantern above their heads.
This is part of the play—part of the dance. Raising the lantern like this so that its sparkling, diffuse light plays over the faces of those below it is an invitation: a request for a kiss in the darkness.
Ria’s eyes glimmer, and that confident grin flashes. “Oh, Nissa. I had all kinds of careful strategies ready to ensure we found ourselves beneath a lantern.”
