Reflection Pond (13 page)

Rowan found a crusty loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and two withered apples. Sighing, he shut the cupboard door. What he really wanted was to go to Sapphire’s. He was certain Callie was avoiding him after last night, because in truth, he was avoiding her. Rowan could still feel her energy, thick and intoxicating, soaking into his skin. If he saw her, he’d want to touch her—and if he touched her, he’d never want to stop. If this continued, he’d have to up his training schedule just to distract himself.

Ash emerged from the bedroom
wearing the same thing as Rowan in forest green. “Let’s go,” Ash said, dragging a hand through his hair.

Last night, after Rowan had walked Callie back to Sapphire’s, he’d slid into the night, body humming with electricity. He felt as though he could run for miles and miles and miles and never
tire. He’d gone back to his cottage and lay staring at the ceiling, dissecting what he’d found in Callie’s mind.

What if she opened up to him?
What if her past knitted them closer together? What if he couldn’t leave her when his time was up?

Rowan gave up on sleep when sunlight streamed through his window this morning. He’d spent three hours training, and ran the perimeter of the city twice, though he wouldn’t admit the second time he was solely looking for Callie.

He and Ash made the short walk to the palace, which lit up the growing dusk. Laughter, the melodic thrum of a harp, and the clink of champagne glasses spilled from the open doors and windows. The fae greeted Ash when they reached the ballroom, resting their forearms against his as they said, “Blessed evening,” and, “Blessed night.” They ignored Rowan, eyes skipping over him as though he was as transparent as a ghost and just as negligible. Resentment smoldered, a simmering coal in his belly. He healed them when they were sick or injured, he studied their history, he knew more about the fae of
Eirensae
than they knew of themselves. Yet they treated him like a pariah, the bastard black sheep they’d sell first to slaughter.

The Elders lined the stage, dressed in their finest gowns and tunics, the women’s faces glamoured to reflect the twinkling orb light. There was no reference to the recently deceased prophetess. The murder was nothing more than a memory. Rowan knew they’d have a funeral in two days’ time. The prophetess would be dressed in layers of silk and shimmer, her skin glamoured to youth and perfection. Then they would burn her body and scatter the ashes in the river.

For now, they partied as though a faerie hadn’t died for a new prophetess to be initiated.

Rowan was disappointed that Callie hadn’t arrived yet, and resorted to following Ash around like a trained dog. A few fae spoke to him—Cypress, Sapphire, and Chicory, greeted him from atop the stage. Gardenia, the oldest faerie in the city
, said a polite hello. Even Hazel spared him a brief scowl, and Rowan wondered if he was moving up in the world. When they reached the end of the raised platform, Rowan noticed Ash glaring at Elm. Despite Ash’s ravaged knuckles, Elm’s face was unmarked. Rowan hoped Ash would hit him again, just to make the evening more interesting. He’d love to get into a fight in defense of his friend. Hell, he’d love to get in a fight for
any
reason.

Rowan knew the second Callie stepped into the ballroom. The air in his lungs vanished. She wore a simple white lace dress, belted at the waist with a silk sash. Her face was free of glamour makeup, blonde curls hung loose over her shoulders. Even from across the room, he could see fatigue lining her eyes and mouth. Beside her, Willow talked a mile a minute, probably describing the initiation. Callie didn’t look like she was listening. She scrutinized the crowd, eyebrows sliding lower and lower, until finally, their eyes met. She looked away and said something to Willow, who launched into another breathless spiel.

Rowan pushed through the crowd, ignoring protests from the other fae as they struggled not to spill their drinks. Ash was right behind him.

The ceremony started before they reached the girls, Hazel’s voice expanding to fill the room as she spoke in Gaelic. Rowan translated without even thinking about it.

Welcome, Sapphire, woman of the fae, servant of Eirensae
.
Do you accept your place as prophetess and with it, vow to devote yourself to the service of the city, forsaking previous ties and commitments? Will you speak the oath and pledge yourself to the fae and to the city
?

Hazel’s pronunciation wasn’t perfect, but it was close, and Rowan knew that eventually the language would die with the Elders. They no longer taught the returning children to speak as their ancestors had, and the words
were only used as part of the ceremonies. His knowledge of the language was mostly self-taught, aided by Cypress. Rowan’s desire to learn came when he’d read every book in the library, save the ones in Gaelic. He’d devoured the nuances of the language with insatiable hunger, and then later, the books. The fae had a long, sordid history, and he suspected that the majority of them living today had no clue, either because they were too lazy or too uninterested to learn.

Ash and Rowan reached the wall and had to backtrack through the crowd to come up behind Callie and Willow. The Elders were placing long strands of flowers over Sapphire’s head and kissing her pink cheeks. Callie’s head was up, gaze focused on Sapphire as she accepted her new position as prophetess. Rowan moved into the space behind her.

“I heard you explode brains for fun,” he whispered.

Callie whirled, smacking Rowan in the face with her hair. “That’s not funny,” she hissed.

“Maybe you should light me on fire again?” He lifted one shoulder, ready to tease her further
,
but Callie’s expression made him say, “What’s wrong?” instead.

She looked over her shoulder toward the stage. “Sapphire,” she said, just loud enough for Rowan to hear.

Ash appeared beside them, finally pushing his way through the bodies. “Are you okay?” he asked, touching her arm. Rowan followed Callie’s movement as she folded her arms and slid away from Ash.

“I was worried after…” Ash said, trailing off when Callie gave him her back. Ash glanced at Rowan and shrugged.

Rowan couldn’t help feeling a little smug over Callie’s dismissal of Ash. No wonder his friend was so pouty. Callie had turned him down. Rowan inched closer to Callie, pleased when she didn’t step away. “She’ll make a great prophetess,” Rowan said, leaning in close enough that loose strands of her hair tickled his face.

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Callie asked

A frown tugged at Rowan’s mouth as he remembered what it was like to be new to the city, oblivious to the traditions and rules. “It’s her place, determined by the previous prophetess.” And it would put Sapphire directly under Hazel’s thumb.

He tracked Callie’s gaze to the stage where Sapphire accepted the final string of flowers from Hazel. Sapphire grinned, happiness radiating from her despite what she’d told Rowan. She may know terrible things, but this was what she was born to do. Knowing your place had to feel like coming home.

Hazel and Sapphire held the pile of blue, violet, orange, and yellow blooms, mouths moving in a silent chant, the words too ancient for Rowan to understand. As they watched, the flowers shivered and started to coil Sapphire’s arms like vines creeping up a tree trunk. Sapphire’s eyes fluttered shut. With a hiss, the flowers melted into Sapphire’s skin, staining her arms with a colorful new imprint that marked her as prophetess.

While it
was meant to be an uplifting ceremony, Rowan felt dread pool at the base of his spine, remembering Sapphire’s words about King Arol and
Fraeburdh.
He glanced at Callie. Sapphire had to be wrong. There’s no way Callie, who was terrified of hurting people with her powers, would join the City of War.

Then again, Rowan had never anticipated joining the Fallen, either, but that would soon happen.

He shook off the thoughts and gestured to the stage. “You want to get closer?”

***

“Congratulations?” Callie said, lifting the end of the word into a question.

Sapphire laughed and they embraced. The new prophetess’s skin tingled against Callie’s as though the imprints
were charged with electricity. “Thank you,” Sapphire said. She released Callie and moved to greet Willow, Ash, and Rowan, kissing their cheeks. “I’m so nervous,” she admitted.

Callie thought her sister looked beautiful, happiness rolling off her skin and infecting the gathered crowd. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sapphire caught Callie’s hands and squeezed. “I would’ve, but you were out so late last night, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Callie’s guilty gaze slid to the side then up to Rowan before returning to Sapphire. “You knew?”

Sapphire winked. “I know
everything.”

A dark skinned man approached, carrying two glasses of bubbling liquid. Something about him tickled the back of Callie’s mind but she couldn’t quite place why he looked familiar.

“Ladies,” he said, bowing. He handed a glass to Willow and Callie, a smile splitting his face. He presented his arm to Sapphire. “My prophetess.” They touched arms and he lifted Sapphire’s fingers to his mouth. “You look ravishing, as usual.” Sapphire’s cheeks pinked further and she was pulled away by the crowd.

He turned to Callie.
“Gorgeous, Calla Lily.” He took her hand and bowed gracefully. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you. I am Bonsai, but you may call me Sai. May I introduce Hawthorne and Jack,” he said, gesturing to the two fae accompanying him.

The first boy, Jack, had wide blue eyes framed by pale blond lashes that matched his mop of curling, sunshine hair. Callie liked him immediately, even before he ignored her offered arm and pulled her into a hug. He broke into a smile, still holding her hand, leaking gentle energy into her skin. “Callie, that’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks,” she said, an answering smile on her lips.

Hawthorne stepped forward next. Where Jack was light, Hawthorne was dark, with brown hair and eyes. When they touched forearms, his energy tore into Callie like an insatiable beast. They jumped away from each other, Callie with a small sound of surprise.

“Nice to meet you,” Hawthorne said, recovering first, his voice much deeper than Callie anticipated, tinged with a slight accent she couldn’t place.

“You, too,” she said, relieved when Sai launched into a story and the attention was diverted from her.

Callie tried to listen to the boys; Jack kept interrupting Sai as they reiterated their search for a missing fae child that should’ve returned to the city by now. Her eyes kept going to the crowd, searching for Elm. He’d stepped off the stage and she’d lost sight of him. She wasn’t afraid that he’d approach her again, more that he’d ruin Sapphire’s initiation. He was the kind of person that wouldn’t shrink away from retribution, justified or otherwise.

Distracted by the search, Callie lifted the glass to her lips, realizing what she’d done only after the taste of flowers and berries burst on her tongue. “Damn it,” she said after it’d slid down her throat. It was the reason she couldn’t remember what had happened to prophetess, why her entire welcome ceremony was a giant black spot in her mind.

She hadn’t meant to drink it.

The faerie wine worked its way into Callie’s veins, leaving her limbs loose and tingling. The music swirled around them, sneaking between the bodies, turning the air ethereal. Callie took another sip.

“Would you like to dance?” Jack asked, holding out a hand. He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Uh—” she looked around, trying to stall, afraid that she’d lose her mind again to the drink.

Ash looked irritated and Rowan looked like he couldn’t care one way or another. He’d found a glass of bright green wine, it dangled at his side from two fingers. His eyes were focused on a spot beyond Callie’s head. Sai captured Willow and spun her onto the dance floor. Hawthorne snagged a drink and headed off into the crowd.

“Come on. I don
’t bite,” Jack said with a wink.
“Much.”

Callie finished her drink and handed the glass to Rowan.

“You’ve done this before,” she said as Jack twirled her into the churning mass of bodies. She had a vague, fuzzy memory of Rowan doing the same thing at the welcome ceremony.

Jack nodded. “
Eirensae
is known for their parties. I just like to look the part.” They passed Willow, who struggled to keep up with Sai as he flung her around. “I apologize for missing your welcome ceremony. I hear it was grand, even if it ended so tragically. But, we must not speak of the sad things today.”

He spun Callie under his arm. When she regained her footing, he flicked his hand at the band and the music sped up. They spun faster and faster until Callie was too dizzy to keep herself upright. Finally, Jack led Callie to the edge of the floor and she collapsed into a chair, relieved. The faerie drink twisted in her brain, making all the colors appear brighter. Sai returned with more drinks and a panting Willow who fell into a puddle beside Callie and wiped sweat off her forehead.

“We should,” Willow said, taking another breath, “go back to your place.” She gestured to the guys. “Have our own party.”

Sai’s teeth gleamed white when he smiled. “That’s an
excellent
idea.”