The Bound (Ascension #2)(12)

“But I must find my friends!” Cyrene interjected.

“You are a danger to yourself as much as the rest of the world. We wouldn’t let a newborn walk out of the nest. You may not leave the city until I say otherwise. Be gracious,” she said lowly, “that I am permitting you this much.”





“This way.” Avoca grabbed Cyrene by her arm and hauled her out of the Queen’s chamber. Ceis’f followed behind them, and Avoca threw him a derisive look over her shoulder. “I’ll show you to your room.”

Cyrene’s mind was whirring with all the new information, but she still had so much more that she didn’t understand. “Will you answer my questions now?”

“Go ahead,” Ceis’f said as he passed. “Ava wants to tell her new pet about our people and bring destruction down on us all. Makes perfect sense.”

Avoca faced him. “I’m sorry about the teams. I would never have gone in there with two six teams if I’d realized how many Indres there were. But every death isn’t your parents.”

“That’s enough!” Ceis’f’s eyes narrowed, and a wall seemed to shift in between them as he shut down. “Enjoy your pet.” He stalked off, all broody and melancholy.

“He’s pleasant,” Cyrene said dryly.

“Come on.” Avoca pushed forward.

When Cyrene exited the chamber, she noticed that the music had increased in volume, and voices were mixed with the instruments. People were dancing and twirling, unlike anything she had ever seen.

She had been to many dances in the Byern court that King Edric had thrown and even more during her childhood. Dancing was structured with specific steps that she’d had to perfect to get the fluidity of the movement. She had a natural knack for it.

But this dancing was nothing like that.

It was a fast-paced, joyous affair. People stomped and clapped and cheered along with the movements. Men and women danced with their bodies pressed together as they quick-stepped across the hard-packed ground. It was sensational and made her breathless just from watching it.

“Are you coming?” Avoca asked.

“What’s going on?”

“The Harvest Moon Festival.”

Cyrene looked up through the thick tree canopy and saw nothing but sunlight. “It lasts all day?”

“And all night, as the harvest moon presents itself as a blessing. Are these really the questions you want answered?” Avoca asked. She stood with her feet spaced apart and her arms crossed. She was clearly not happy to be working as an escort.

“No,” Cyrene said. She took one last glance at the dancing and followed Avoca.

A few minutes later, they stopped in front of a door.

“What’s this?”

The room she’d been in before only had a cloth to cover the entranceway.

“The visitor’s living quarters, of course. You didn’t think that you would be kept in the infirmary, did you?”

Cyrene hadn’t even known that she had been in the infirmary. It certainly hadn’t looked like the ones at home, which were blank sterile rooms full of medicinal tools, herbs, and treatments.

When Avoca realized Cyrene wasn’t going to respond, she opened the door.

For visitor’s quarters, the room was immaculate with the same curved wooden walls and hanging jars of light. A plush rug covered the floor, and the most impressively carved furniture took up the space. A giant bed with climbing vines cut into the frame was set against one wall, and a writing table sat across from it with fresh parchment and ink. The common area had a small dining table with flowers bursting from a vase.

“We weren’t sure you would be staying, and we didn’t have much time to arrange things for you, so we did what we could. A bath is being drawn in the adjacent room,” Avoca told her. “We don’t have many visitors.”

“It’s…it’s wonderful,” she admitted.

And it truly was. They had delicacies a plenty at home, but this place seemed special…magical. Not to mention, she had been on the road for weeks, and a proper bath had been nearly impossible.

“All right then,” Avoca said as she turned to leave.

“You’re not leaving me here, are you?” Cyrene asked frantically.

“I have things to do,” she grumbled.

“I’m sorry about your team.” Cyrene’s voice was soft. She was in a different world without a way to escape and with people who knew about her magic. She needed a friend.

“Me, too,” Avoca whispered. She paused and then sighed, as if resigned. “Thank you for saving me.”

Cyrene cleared her throat. “You’re welcome. Though I’m not sure what I did.”

“I was bitten, and you called the Indres off me.”

“But…how?”

“I’m not certain I understand your question.”

“I just found out that I could…do this. Magic doesn’t exist back home!”

Avoca laughed, actually laughed at her. Cyrene narrowed her eyes and waited for her to stop.

“You really do know nothing,” she said when she seemed to realize Cyrene was serious. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“You must have just manifested.”