Page 74 of Fire to the Stars
“This is for you,” he shouts over the noise.
“When did you find time to buy this?” I’m half shouting as I take the tin.
“I may have slipped away from my post for a few moments.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Look at you, breaking all kinds of rules lately.”
“I bought this with my own coin. It isn’t much, but I wanted to express my gratitude. You gave me confidence to face the Ignition again, Claire. That’s three times now you’ve saved my life.”
My laugh sounds forced. “Don’t count your fawnas yet.”
Everything I did was out of selfishness, and he’sthankingmefor that? I shove my cup into his free hand and pop the tin open. Beneath the wax paper is a pile of…What kind of sweet arethese? They’re flat but thick, with dark chocolate on the bottom, white chocolate on top. Tiny salt crystals dust the dark side like stars.
“Sky chocolate. A seasonal favorite,” he explains. “Try it.”
I bite off a corner with an easypop. It’s bitter, sweet, and salty at once, like delicious chaos on my tongue. I make a show of mulling over the flavor, then lick the salt from my fingertips, one by one—but my bravado slips. My vision blurs. It takes every ounce of my effort to smile my thanks instead of cry.
“I love it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” I say truthfully. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The first float—a simple arch, with a black curtain embroidered with stars—passes by. Two men emerge dressed as the Gods, in robes of red and blue. Diu wears a crown of sunsrays. Noctu’s crown looks like shooting stars. The second float carries Jardincourt’s latest rotation of cardinals. They throw silver confetti at the crowd, as if dispersing the celestial magic that created the Immortals.
The parade trudges on. I savor my treat. Floats carry fake sword fights and red streamers for blood. The felled warriors rise again and continue the carnage. The portrayal of the Dark Days casts hesitation on the crowd, but once blue-and-red-flag twirlers follow—marking the sky changes of the Gods’ War—the true cheers begin. The Ascension has occurred. Then come the mortal humans. Dancers toss winter wildflowers from a float of a giant fawna. Children carry a banner for their orphanage. One boy wanders from his group, and an accompanying priestgrabs the back of his collar to keep him from slipping in icy gutter slush.
“Promise me you’ll stay at the hotel while I slay Gérard,” Abel says suddenly.
“I will. We’ve been over this.”
“You didn’t listen back in Ravinfort. But you can’t save me from a dragon. And if things go wrong with the assassins, your presence would add a hazardous variable.”
Laughter erupts from the crowd. Men dressed in oversized silverwolf costumes raise their paws and growl at children lining the street. They jump-scare their parents instead.
“Promise me, Claire.”
“I consume sleep powder the night before every Ignition,” I admit, then add a lie of omission to defer questions. “It allows me to sleep through my fear.”
“So that’s what those jars are for.” His brow furrows. “I’m sorry. I should’ve anticipated you’d use something like that.”
“Now do you see? I don’twantto interfere.” I hold eye contact to convince him. “I have a personal stake in your success, remember?”
His stare lingers for a moment, as if searching for hints of deception. He’s terrible at reading ill intent, but even if he’s picked up a few tells from me, he won’t find any deceit.
His expression softens. “Thank you.”
I hold out a piece of sky chocolate for him to bite. “Yourturn.”
He tries to give my drink back, but I lift both hands, emphasizing that mine are occupied too.
“Don’t tell me you’re too embarrassed to accept a little help,” I tease.
He bites the whole piece out of my hand instead. He gestures with both ciders and lifts his eyebrows pleadingly.Take your cup back,he seems to say. I stifle a laugh and release him from his misery.
We watch the parade. King Philippe and Queen Danielle, dressed in finery, wave from a silver carriage, surrounded by gendarmes and the purple-uniformed Royal Guard.
A dragon float comes next.
A slayer pretends to attack the model dragon in various ways. Peak excitement rouses the people around us, so passionate that a father with a young girl on his shoulders nearly knocks me aside for a better view.
