Ehlaria held up her ancient hand. “It’s very possible.”
Astra gasped, her head swirling. “How could that even be?”
“Young Luxuros here was not the only one in The Flare, Astra. You may have been safely tucked away in your mother’s womb, but you were every bit as present for Leona’s death as he was.”
“You were there?” She turned to Lux. Her heart might have actually stopped beating.
“I… I’m not sure.” He shook his head, his own confusion so palpable she had no choice but to believe him. So rarely did he lose his grip on his guard.
“I assumed you’d have sorted that out weeks ago,” Ehlaria stared between them. “You’ve never been one for patience.”
“Me? What can I do?”
Ehlaria rolled her eyes. “You mean to tell me you finally figured out how to go within and you wasted all your energy on me?”
“I didn’t mean to do it!” Astra cried, a rush of adrenaline sending her heart back to a brutal pace.
She smirked. “There are no accidents, darling.”
“What is she talking about?” Lux finally formed a full question.
Ehlaria gestured between them. “You can help him remember, Astra.” She glared at the commander. “You just have to let her in. She would be a powerful tool for you, Luxuros.” Something passed between them Astra couldn’t grasp hold of. “Don’t get hung up on it now, Astra. Tonight is a celebration. Enjoy it. Both of you.”
She twisted away, finding her footing under the sweet melodies of the fiddle behind them as she danced away.
Lux rested a hand on the back of his neck, unsure what to make of this new information.
“It makes sense,” she said. “The Flare and all.”
“Of course.” He nodded.
“You look out of place, now,” she said to Lux, pointing to the abandoned jars of paint. She snatched a brush and held it up, waiting for him to protest.
But he didn’t.
They were both desperate for a distraction. Lux rolled the sleeves of his tunic up and held his arms out for her.
“No obscenities or appendages,” he said, arching a brow.
She cackled a rather unbecoming sound as she dunked the brush into the glittering paint. Astra dragged the brush’s thin side over his forearms, swirling along in slithering rivers and matched the strokes on his other arm. The gold pigment flooded the valleys between scars, covering the evidence of his spat with Daria and the hatchlings in Ellume.
“That’s what it feels like,” she said as she set the brush down. “In my veins, when the sunlight rushes through.” He rotated both arms, flexing his hands as the lines shimmered under the torches.
“It’s also how it feels,” he returned, leaning closer to her. “When I’m sucked out of my dreams and thrown into hot springs and gardens.”
Astra’s mouth dried out, the nausea rising from her stomach and fluttering into her lungs. Her inner and outer worlds competed for who could flush a deeper shade of pink.
“You two coming?” Loleena pranced by, several elves falling into a line up the oak stairs, goblets of wine in their spindly lavender fingers.
Astra was happy to follow her, grateful for anything else to focus on.
They climbed through rustling leaves and glowing orbs of light until they reached a break in the treetops. A series of round decks spanned the village, each connected with footbridges that flowed under amber lights. Hundreds of elves made their way to the treetops, rustling paper lanterns in their hands.
“Grab one!” Loleena pointed to baskets overflowing with lifeless lanterns, painted with curved shapes and flowers that made Astra’s heart twist and yearn for something she didn’t quite understand.
Lux plucked two from a basket and pushed them toward the edge of the deck, leaning over the rail to look below as more elves journeyed up the steps.
Loleena explained, “You make a wish as you light them and let them free. The winds will carry them to your ancestors in the Court Above.”
