Chapter 24

  THE DANCE

  They moved together with the same ease they had when circling each other with swords. Lavinia knew how Darag would move. She could read his intentions in the muscles of his chest and arms. They spun in the whirlwind of Kith dancers until she was out of breath. As the music dwindled he double stepped, spinning her around once faster. Lavinia stayed close against him to keep her balance, laughing as the world flashed by.

  They did not dance every round, but found themselves with Laireag, Cuileann, Beite, Niri, and Ria when they weren’t off twirling in the grass as well. But Darag was right, she never gave much notice to anyone else. Laireag, Cuileann, nor any other Kith asked her to dance the rest of the night. Instead, her hand stayed in Darag’s.

  She could feel the crowd thinning, the music fading. The greater moon had nearly crossed the expanse of the clearing. The leaves of the forest reached out to hide the lavender disk of the full moon, its craters and plains clearly visible as it travelled on its closest circuit to the planet. She could not deny the gathering was near its end.

  “Do you want to walk?”

  Lavinia nodded. Her heart was too happy to settle for sleep. They headed along the aerial paths into the false stars of twinkling insects and milky glowing plants. Every time they brushed each other, Lavinia tingled.

  “I heard a phrase tonight and the night before. I think a few people used it in reference to me. What does Pluryh Ahk’Goaithe mean?”

  Darag flushed. “You caught that? It means ‘flower of the wind.’”

  “I’m still not used to that. Ria has always been considered the prettier of the two of us,” Lavinia said, her cheeks flaming.

  “What have you seen of the Kith? Ria has light hair and green eyes. This is not unusual to us. I think Beite’s skin is even paler than hers. But you have hair that is like a river at night.” Darag traced his hand through her heavy locks. “And eyes the color of the sky. The Kith rarely have such traits. It is exotic. You are very beautiful.”

  “Oh, and is that what you like about me? That I’m beautiful?”

  Darag gave a soft snort, but a flash of sadness crossed his eyes. He dropped her hand to lean over the railing. He glanced at her, his expression fond again, although he kept his distance.

  “No, that isn’t it at all.”

  There was pain in his eyes. There was more of an ache than she had expected in her chest as well. She stood by his side not sure what to do. Every time she felt close to him, he pulled away. Confused, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. He hesitated before putting his arm around her. They stood together, watching the lights move through the trees. Far below the last of the dancers swirled together like a living whirlwind.

  “What do they call Ria?”

  “Fhograidh, it means pursued.”

  “And my brother?”

  Darag compressed his lips. “Feanntag, it means ... nettle, one who hurts and hurts others.”

  She laughed. Darag looked over at her.

  “That is a good name for him. I will have to suggest it to our parents.”

  Darag chuckled. He pulled her forward with sure steps as if he now had a destination in mind.

  “Where are we going?”

  “A place I want to show you.”

  Darag did not say more. They reached a juncture where a small branch angled deliberately away into the tree tops. He led her forward, steadying her as the path narrowed. Beneath her feet, Lavinia felt the movement of the thick branch. There was no railing here. Below her stretched depthless darkness. She sought out Darag’s hand for reasons other than budding emotion.

  With a hop aided by his hands, he moved her to a different branch. It led to a notch where the upper limbs of the main tree separated. A wide hollow had been shaped in the nook, forming what looked like a massive wooden nest. Lavinia had no doubt whose skills had sculpted the tree. Leaves rustled around them with a wide view of stars hanging overhead. The hour was late enough that the greater moon had slipped fully into the depths of the forest. Starlight and lantern bugs filled the darkness. Mesmerized, Lavinia stood in Darag’s arms, paused in the act of stepping down with his help.

  “What is this place?”

  “I call it the aery. I come here whenever I feel out of sorts and need to think.”

  “I can’t imagine you out of sorts.”

  Darag lifted one eyebrow with doubtful humor. “I stayed here most of the last few nights.”

  Darag traced the line of her cheek, making her conscious of how close they stood.

  “Do you really know why the others kept their distance tonight when most nights they fought for your attention? Do you know what they think?”

  “Yes.” Lavinia’s cheeks warmed again under his searching gaze. “Beite told me and ... and I spoke to Laith Lus. I do know.” Lavinia finished the last in a rush, looking away from Darag in embarrassment.

  “You realize then how serious this is to the Kith, to me? There is flirting and then there is this,” he said hoarsely, taking her hand and holding it between them.

  Lavinia nodded, unable to speak. She was too nervous to see what she would read in his expression. She stared instead at their joined hands. Rustling leaves filled the air around them.

  “I cannot choose you,” Darag said, voice gruff as if he forced the words out. Now Lavinia's gaze snapped back to him. His expression was resolute but he held her tighter. She swallowed hard, choking on tears.

  “You mean you don’t want to.”

  “It isn’t that, my dearest love. Please, you can’t believe it is that.” With the words finally spoken, it seemed the last restraint to keep his distance fell. He cradled her against his chest. Lavinia pressed against him, his whispered words threatening to buckle her knees.

  “Then why?”

  “If we choose each other, they would expect you to stay and give up your quest. There are so many ways it would limit what you have set out to do.”

  “Expect, but not force.” She felt the need to argue as if she was a small child again, when her brother was given privileges that she had not been allowed.

  Darag released her so that he could put both hands on her shoulders and look her in the eye. “Are you really so sure? Knowing how much would change? You would be drawn to come back here so that your very bones ached for it. You would outlive your brother, your mother and father, Ria, and Niri. Are you so sure?”

  Lavinia trembled. “No.”

  She collapsed back in his arms, the desire to fight what he was saying flooding out of her. It left behind a dull emptiness.

  “Then we will wait,” he whispered into her ear. Her breath caught in her throat. A slender thread of hope sprouted in the lost landscape inside of her. “We will wait until you come back, if you want to come back. You can have that time to think, to be certain.”

  His eyes held her steady. The wild fluttering of her heart fell away under his gaze and the love in it. Her hope budded into insight and all the turmoil that had ensnared her spirit fell away.

  Earlier, she had told Ria, Niri, and Beite her worries that Darag wouldn’t come to the dance. She had admitted meekly to them what she had been refusing to contemplate all week, how much she liked Darag. Niri had been the one to convince her to stop fretting. She had simply said, "There is no changing what you already feel."

  Lavinia already loved him. He loved her.

  Tentatively, Lavinia touched his face. Darag leaned into her palm, an ache in his eyes as he waited for her to speak.

  “If we are willing to choose each other,” she began. Darag closed his eyes. She paused, allowing the realization that she loved him to spring tears under his lashes.

  “Even if we are going to wait,” Lavinia added, brushing aside a caught tear as he opened his eyes. A glint of hope fought with the vulnerability in his gaze.

  “Doesn’t that mean we’ve already chosen?”

  Her breath lodged in her throat, afraid that he'd say no and back away again. That frightened
her more than leaving to face the Curse or outliving her family and friends. She just didn't want him to say no.

  “Yes,” he answered, laughter and love filling his face. She pressed into him as his lips found hers. The kiss seared her soul with warmth, leaving her once again breathless and trembling.

  Chapter 25