Page 83 of Kiss of Fire

“Aye. If you don’t drink too much. Wait here.”

He came back with two glasses of the tawny liquid. Raya took a tentative sip, then a longer one.

“It’s lovely. Sort of sweet but it has a kick to it.”

“It’s quite strong,” Tor warned. “Go easy on it.”

“You know I’ve never really drunk alcohol?” Raya looked at her glass thoughtfully. “I’m twenty one years old and I’ve never been drunk. Never even had a hangover.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Well, I guess my liver’s in good nick at least. Come on, wolf boy. Let’s dance.”

They inserted themselves into the heaving mass. Raya had to hang onto Tor to avoid losing him in the crowd but he didn’t seem to mind. When his hand slipped round her waist it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

“This is the second best thing I’ve done since I got to Nush’aldaam,” she shouted into his ear.

“Only the second? What’s the first?”

“Flying with Shade. I love it. Mind you, he did drop me once. On purpose.”

“I see,” he said drily. “How did the betrothal dinner go?”

“Not as hideous as I thought it would be. It was actually surprisingly fun. Until Shade had a rage-out.”

“A rage-out?”

“Lost his temper. He does that a lot.”

Tor looked round warily.

“Is he here?”

“No. He’s at the castle. Working.”

Tor grinned.

“Well, I can’t fly you to the stars. But Icansweep you off your feet.” His arm tightened around her and he whirled her round until she collapsed, giggling, into his arms.

They danced until the evening. Fairy lights came on, strung across the streets and between buildings. People lit candles and lamps, and the party continued.

They watched a series of street performers. One pale young woman in a mask of green foliage held out her arms. All of a sudden, flowers burst through the ground, growing and blooming in a riot of colour all around the feet of an impressed crowd.

“She’s a dryad,” Tor told her. “Another elemental, like the fire fae. Except she can control earth. They don’t leave the forest very often.”

A young man created characters of smoke and shadows on a wall and made them act out a slapstick play that had everyone laughing.

“Is he an Ifrit?” Raya asked.

“Yes, but not a powerful one. His shadows have no substance. He has a talent for comedy though.”

“Can we get some food? I’ve always wanted to try street food. Do they have hotdogs?”

“Hot what?”

“Meat inside bread. With onions.”

“I think we can do better than that.”

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