Page 43 of The Lord of Whispers

Rhett had told her that people who were in love were immune to his powers.

“Imagine you have a daughter, a daughter who sees Rhett and will literally doanythinghe tells her to do, whether it’s good for her family… or her, for that matter.”

“But Rhett’s powers, it just makes them giggly and fall in love. You’re making it sound all…dark.”

“At the height of his powers, he could have told a girl to jump off a cliff and she would have done it, Al. No questions, no hesitancy,” I said, setting her mind down the not-so-nice path of Rhett’s power.

I looked at her, seeing that she was only just starting to truly understand the reach of Rhett’s abilities.

“Rhett wouldn’t do that,” she protested, but she didn’t sound so sure of herself anymore.

I’d grown up with Rhett. I knew what he was capable of. I knew what lurked behind his good looks and laissez-faire attitude. He was a warrior, just like me.

“Al, it was war,” was all I said in response.

At that moment, our burgers arrived at the table, offering us a reprieve from needing to go any further in our conversation.

I devoured my burger and fries and then started on the other half of Alarie’s burger.

“Slow down or you’re going to puke on the rides,” Alarie admonished.

“I wmll nmm,” I mumbled unintelligibly, a big bite still in my mouth.

“What?” She grinned, taking another sip of her beer, although I think she understood the gist of my denial.

* * * *

“You can hardly call this a fair, Al,” I said, skeptical.

“What’s wrong with it?” she retorted as she walked around the small grounds, tickets clutched in her small hands, deciding which ride to torture me with first.

Without waiting for an answer, Al stopped at the Ferris wheel in front of us.

“Let’s ride the Ferris wheel, Luke!” she cried excitedly.

“Is that a wire hanger holding the cart to the wheel?” I asked incredulously, not answering her.

“You scared?” she teased.

I didn’t care if it was a wire hanger. I would go to the top of a Ferris wheel hung by a fucking thread just to see Al this happy. The fair had brought something out in her that I’d never seen before; something I’d never even imagined that she’d had in her. No matter how much I made her smile and laugh, there was always an edge to her that I could never soften. But in this moment, Al displayed a childlike joy.

We climbed into the cart together. The cart was tiny, and so was she, but my tall, muscled frame was a tight fit. The two of us pressed against each other inside of the metal cart, our legs touching, our arms overlapping. There was nowhere to put our hands, so my right hand and her left hand ended up resting on the top of my right thigh. My pulse was racing as the Ferris wheel began its rotation.

When our cart reached the top, the Ferris wheel abruptly jerked to a halt. The feeble hanger holding the cart to the wheel made a screeching noise, and the cart rocked back and forth with the momentum of the sudden stop.

Al saw me look up at the hanger with a look of dread, and she burst out laughing. She laughed like I’d never heard her laugh before, like a dam had broken inside of her, letting out a wave of joy that washed away every dark image that lingered in her beautiful eyes, leaving nothing but pure unadulterated Alarie.

Her laughter washed over me for the moment that our cart rested at the top of the Ferris wheel, overlooking all of Vlaise. The sight of the tall spires of the High Court lighting up in the night’s sky would have been intoxicating if I were not already drunk on the sound of her laughter.

Our cart jerked on the rusty hanger as the Ferris wheel started forward again, bringing us toward the ground for our next rotation. Still laughing, Al started at the jerk of our cart, grabbing my hand in hers. Her hand felt so small in my big hand, but she entwined her fingers with mine and they somehow fit together perfectly. Al’s laughter or the movement of the Ferris wheel, or perhaps both, set off a chain reaction with the decrepit hanger that secured our cart to the Ferris wheel.

To my horror, Al discovered that she could make our cart rock back and forth, alternating between us lying on our backs looking at the stars and us being thrown forward, looking directly at the ground. She cackled in pure delight as she caused the cart to rock, reveling in my reaction. We grasped each other’s hands too tightly in the mania of the moment.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I exclaimed, daring to open my mouth.

My burger and several beers sloshed around in my stomach.

“Me too!” Al laughed, not sounding at all upset about it and continuing to rock our cart.

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