Page 69 of The Starlight Savior

“Thank the Gods,” Niana said with a groan. “They don’t make ale like this in the castle.” Tugging on Saige’s arm, she nudged her chin towards the middle. “Let’s dance before the prayers!”

Her cheeks reddened. “I was dancing.”

Niana halted. “You absolutely weren’t.” She reached over to take the second mug from Conor’s hand and forced it into Saige’s. “This will help. Drink.” She tugged Saige’s cloak away from her arms, throwing it into Conor’s to hold.

Saige brought the mug to her lips but hesitated. A sharpness spread across her chest as her hand began to tremble.

Conor placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” she declared, taking a slow sip. The ale was sour against her tongue.

Saige had already learned the lesson of how loss could consume someone. The person she was in Brevil was merely a shell of the woman she was becoming in Etrane. Yet if she allowed the water-wielders to impact her this way, how would she ever move forward?

She took another sip and smiled.

“All of it!” Niana cried.

“Relax,” Conor said, sending a weary eye towards Niana.

With a flick of her wrist, the air around them smelled of the cool mountains. Conor looked down at his mug, tipping it upside down to reveal it was frozen. The usual cocky grin and smile lines faded as the face of the general’s son returned. His cheeks were sharp, eyes stone cold.

“Unfreeze my fucking ale now.”

“Don’t boss me around then. Didn’t you say you’re trying to be better?” Niana mocked.

Saige laughed, the weight in her chest beginning to loosen. “I never thought I’d see a witch use magic in such a threatening way.”

Conor pointed an accusatory finger towards Niana, who was already beginning to dance along with the music. “Back home, she used to freeze everything to piss me off! Stew, my own bath, my water canteen!”

“And I loved every second of it.” Niana grabbed a hold of the frozen mug, putting two hands around it. The ale unfroze as she grasped it. Before Conor could grab it back, Saige watched as Niana opened her throat, letting the liquid slide down smoothly.

“Mara’s tits!” Conor cursed, stalking off to the booth where a long line had begun to form. When he reached it, he tapped his feet along with the music and ran a hand through his hair. A finger got stuck in a curl.

Saige found herself almost stepping forward, longing for his presence by her side. She wondered what he’d look like dancing through the crowd. But Niana placed her hand on Saige’s arm, tugging her back.

“Conor actually owed me from the last full moon,” Niana said, leaning in. She took a hold of Saige’s hands, bringing her into the crowd. This time, she didn’t let go, teaching Saige how to flow with the music.

“So,” Saige said, letting her body move, “why are we celebrating?”

“Besides your magic? Another month of life, of course. It’s been a tradition in Etrane to celebrate the full moon. Athalos is known for its parties and prayers.”

Saige twirled at Niana’s command, letting the skirts of her dress lift around her. The ale was settling in her stomach, and her shoulders were beginning to relax. She closed her eyes, the flute guiding her. Niana loosened her grip on her hands, letting Saige’s arms flow. She bumped into shoulders, but instead of shying away, she giggled with the strangers beside her, eyes creasing at the corners. The music swelled around the distant sound of Niana’s laugh.

When the sweaty and wide-smiling musicians declared a break, the crowd dispersed throughout the square. Some lounged on wooden tables, others lined up for goods. As Saige followed Niana to the edge of the party, she was surprised by the diversity in Etrane. In the castle, Saige was accustomed to the storm-wielders’ pale skin, paired with ebony or bright hair. Mortals were often tanned by the sun, hair the color of sunlight or chocolate. Athalos was entirely different. The streets were filled with a plethora of different people of all ages. There was a spectrum of colors and style, different shades of skin, and heights of varying size.

Niana drummed her fingers against the table as Saige slid beside her. “I hope Conor comes back with more ale.”

Their gazes followed Conor, only halfway through one of the many lines. Saige found herself smiling at the annoyed scowl spreading across his face.

“What’s on your mind?” Niana probed, leaning forward on the table. “Are you having fun?”

“I’ve just…” Saige searched for the right words. “…never seen so many different groups gathered in one spot. And they’re all just…so happy.”

Niana smiled. “I told you this place has become a refuge. Some live here. Others may travel for the full moon, whether from western Etrane, Tiranos, or Nasala.”

Saige’s mouth fell open. “Vospella allows wielders from the enemy kingdom?”

Niana sighed. “It’s not their fault Tiranos’s queen is a power hungry bitch and can’t provide for her people. If we have room for them, we’ll take them. But I’m sure you can see it’s becoming a tight squeeze.”