A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(3)

I watch the whirling blade. “You know I wish I could do that.”

Smiling, he increases the speed until the knife is nothing but a blur.

“Show-off,” I grumble.

He chuckles, backing up so that Desma can make her way through the gate. She keeps moving, swaying rhythmically, and I turn to follow. We all know from experience that she can’t just stop, or the colors will build up inside her, the pressure unbearable. She takes my hands and spins me into her dance, our feet stirring dust into the shimmering air. We pass Cerberus on our way out, and one head pops up, ears twitching.

Desma’s colors skitter over me with tiny teeth, nipping at my skin. Her rainbows jump to me, eager, and I absorb them so fast the magic leaves me breathless and floating.

“You soothe me, Cat.” She guides us along the rough stone wall as we travel down the back side of the amphitheater. “You’re a balm to my soul.”

“I’m a bucket of water to your torch.”

She laughs at my tart response, colors pouring from her throat and sinking into me.

It doesn’t take long for Desma to stop glowing, and her power leaves me energized enough to forget the stifling heat. Rainbows fly from my fingertips, painting the evening shadows with splashes of color. I draw a picture of the Minotaur on the wall and then aim harmless ribbons of magic at friends who pass. Tadd and Alyssa launch into tumbling runs over the burned-out grass to avoid the beams. Zosimo and Yannis take my colorful volley head-on before staggering to the ground with imaginary wounds.

“Cat! You’re a menace!” Aetos booms from behind me.

Laughing, I whirl and hit him with everything I’ve got left. The magic can’t do more than tickle, but he acts like he’s on the glaciers again, pitting himself against the man-eating Mare of Thrace.

His face contorts, turning more menacing with every step. I eye his hulking form and the giant horsehide flapping behind him like dark wings and wish I’d braved the Ice Plains, defeated a monster, and made an offering like that mare’s head to the Gods.

What did I do to deserve my magic, apart from survive?

Aetos wades through the color-thick air and then grabs me, crushing me in a bear hug. “Who’s laughing now?” he rumbles somewhere above my head.

“Too tight.” I gasp, the magic fizzling as my bones shift.

“Sorry.” He lets go, and I breathe again. His eyes, glacial blue like the Ice Plains, narrow when he gets a good look at me. “Zeus! You look like you’re forty.” He taps a finger against my cosmetic-layered nose. “Your face paints are so thick I can hardly see what’s under there.”

“That’s the idea,” I say with a cagey grin.

His expression sobers. “Who are you hiding from, Cat? Who are you?”

I clam up, humor draining from me like someone else’s magic. Aetos hasn’t looked at me like this in years. Not since he stopped asking where I ran from and why I scream at night.

I force a cocky smile. “I’m Cat the Magnificent. Soothsayer Extraordinaire.”

He doesn’t smile back, only letting me off the hook once he gives me a look that says he’s not done fishing. “Time to dazzle some Sintans, Cat the Magnificent. Soothsayer Extraordinaire.”

The tension I hate so much breaks when Desma pats my rump. “Either those pants shrank or you’re eating too many spice cakes again.”

I make a sound of disgust. “Why is everyone ganging up on me?”

She grins. “Because you’re weird, and nobody knows who you are.”

“My pants are fine.” Actually, they’re verging on truly uncomfortable, but I’m not about to admit it now.

Aetos crosses his arms, frowning. “They are too tight. If I see anyone looking at you for more than five seconds, I’ll tear his bloody head off his bloody body.”

My right eyebrow creeps up. “Then everything will be very bloody.”

“Laugh all you want,” he growls. “Just don’t get splashed.”

I make a sign to the Gods on Olympus. “Grant me patience.”

“Seriously, Cat.” Desma grabs my arm, unexpected urgency in her grip. “Those face paints and that outfit make you look a lot older and more experienced than you are. Tread carefully in the crowd tonight.”

I roll my eyes. “I have done this before.”

“I know.” She releases me as abruptly as she grabbed me. “But things are different in Sinta now, especially in the south. These people have realized that muscle can overcome magic. Hoi Polloi have been feeling feisty all spring and summer, and you wouldn’t want to kill anyone by accident.”

Everything in me stills. “What makes you think I can do that?”

Desma shrugs. Aetos looks way too interested, so I shift the focus to him.

“You can kill with fire.”

“I can kill with one finger,” he scoffs, snapping for good measure. “Fast, too.”

Desma’s small hands land on her narrow hips. “We’re talking about magic, not obscenely overmuscled Giants.”

“Who are you calling obscene, rainbow woman?” Aetos’s barrel chest heaves with indignation, thunderclouds gathering in his eyes.

“Stop!” I cut off their bickering before they have a chance to warm up. The Fates got everything backward with these two—a huge, tattooed southerner with fire and flight and a tiny Demigoddess with nothing to show for her Olympian heritage except rare beauty and a colorful glow. What a pair. I wish they would finally sleep together and get all the repressed emotion out in the open. “I have to go. My table’s up.”