CHAPTER NINETEEN（Untitled）Grace

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Grace

We continue to ride as night falls, Branikk holding my hand, his large thigh pressed against mine. I'm as aware of him as always, yet also strangely calm. None of what he's said has been a lie. I can trust him, truly trust him.

It's the most precious thing in the world.

The bracelet he made me wraps my wrist with light pressure, just enough to know it's there. The fingers of my other hand play over it, feeling the contrast between the smooth, polished wood, the slick glass surface of the black obsidian, and the soft feathers. It's strong and beautiful and fits with my lifestyle in a way no dainty gold chain ever could.

No one's ever made me anything before, especially not a guy.

Especially not my husband .

As the sky darkens to purple, the brightest of stars appear.

Tiny blue dots wink on in the trees and start to move toward us.

"What are those?" I lean forward. "Fireflies?"

"Pixies."

"Pixies are real?"

A clang comes from below, and Aurora yells, "If you don't want every ogre and sluagh in the whole damned world to find us, you need to make this infernal thing stop glowing!"

"Oh, the lights!" I'm so used to the way the Ferris wheel is fully lit to compete for attention on the carnival's bright midway that I didn't even think about all the bulbs decorating the wheel. I stand as our basket dips back toward the ground, my hand on the lever that opens the door.

Branikk joins me, slinging his bow and quiver over his back.

We leap out onto the stone, easily visible in the light of the ride, which is impossible if I think about it. There's no electricity for the light bulbs, just like there isn't any for the motor. Magic, as Branikk would say. My magic. Will I ever get used to it?

I dodge between the moving cars to get to the controls and flip a switch, plunging us into darkness. Next, I slow the Ferris wheel and stop it right when two cars are at the bottom, each a couple of feet off the ground in a way that leaves an aisle in the center. I walk down it back out to the front.

Aurora stands on the next rock over, having leaped back across to give us room to get off the Ferris wheel.

"Do you want to go for a ride?" I wave toward one of the cars.

"Hardly," she snorts.

"Come on," Branikk says. "The view is amazing."

"Well, I won't know, will I?" she says grumpily. "You two rode until there's no daylight left."

"First thing in the morning, then," I say.

"Perhaps." She doesn't sound convinced.

A cluster of blue dots darts out of the trees on this side of the river and head straight for us.

"No! Bring the pretty lights back!" a high voice shrieks. A tiny man hangs in the air in front of me, moth wings beating on his back. Everything about him glows light blue, his skin, his wings, his leaf clothes, and the shock of hair that stands straight up from his head like one of those old cartoons where someone gets electrocuted for laughs.

More of the pixies flutter around him.

Another group of blue lights appear from the other side of the river, racing toward me. "This is our special new thing, not yours!" a tiny woman cries. "We saw it first!"

The male pixie wheels around. "We got here first! It's ours!"

Tiny silver swords appear in little fists, and suddenly they're not innocently cute anymore. They're still adorable, but it's like a feral kitten with needle claws—they bristle with an edge of danger.

"Come now, there's no need for battle," Branikk says, his jovial voice cutting across their angry cries. "My bride's creation is easily big enough for all to enjoy."

"You made this?" the two head pixies say in unison as both groups of them turn toward me.

"You can conjure?" the man says.

"You must be Pizza!" The woman's voice gets even more excited than before, which shouldn't be physically possible, since she already sounded like a six-year-old who'd been given about three Cokes too many, all hopped up on caffeine and sugar. "Make us pizza!"

"Yes, we want the pizza the other pixies speak of!"

The swords disappear, thank god, as both flocks descend on me in a mass of fluttering moth wings. Tiny fists cling to my T-shirt, to my ears, to the fallen locks of my hair. "Pizza, pizza, pizza!"

I stand still, frozen in shock. This is all so bizarre!

"She's not Pizza," Branikk roars, putting special emphasis on the word.

They fall silent, hanging from me with still wings as they all stare at the massive orc who looms in the dark. How much larger he must appear to someone so small!

"Grace doesn't conjure food, but she's made this Ferris wheel, which is an even more wondrous thing. Who wants to go for a ride?"

" ME! " The sound of all of them shrieking at the same time hits a high note that sets my ears ringing, but I'm laughing. I can't help it. They're back to being cute-cute again.

Little hands pat my cheeks as each leader hangs in front of my face. "Please," one says. Then the next adds, "Let us ride your ride."

"Okay, just for you, I'll start it again."

A loud hooray fills the air as I step carefully toward one of the bottom cars and open the door. "The first group gets this car all to themselves."

The male pixie dives from my cheek to dart inside, his troupe following him.

I go to the other car and repeat the process. "And this is the car for you."

The female leads her people in.

With the twin glows of the two groups of pixies lighting my way, I head back to the controls and start the ride, leaving the lights off.

"Wheee!" they scream in stereo as the wheel starts spinning.

I dart back between two moving cars to join Branikk, tipping my head backward to track the pixies as they rise into the air. Each group has plastered themselves to the front window of their cars, lighting them up like lanterns glowing blue in the night.

"Our enemies can still see that!" Aurora calls out.

"It's pixie light," Branikk yells back over his shoulder. "Everyone in Alarria knows pixie light is a normal occurrence."

"Bah." She goes back to grazing.

When the Ferris wheel gets to where their cars are at the top, another chorus of yells rings out. Then the light show shifts in each car as the pixies fly to the opposite window for the view out the other side during the descent.

We let them go around a few more times, then Branikk calls a halt, saying we need to eat dinner.

When I stop the Ferris wheel with their cars at the bottom, the pixies pile onto the levers and open the doors themselves, swirling out to fill the air with high, excited voices, and fluttering wings.

They surround me again, the leaders taking up position in front of my face.

"This is the first time we've ever been so high in the air," the male says.

The female adds, "And we didn't need to strain our wings to do it."

They turn from me to look at each other, then fly forward to clasp hands. Before I know what's happening, they're making out in front of me. The rest of the pixies follow suit, the two flocks coming together in something that looks like it's about to become a midair orgy.

I take a step back, unwilling to get slapped in the face by pixie "sticks." "This is some real enemies to lovers going on."

"It's like the moving pictures you showed me."

I'm surprised he remembered. My phone died a couple of days ago, so no more Bridgerton clips.

"These pixies have probably been squabbling and bumping up against each other's territory for years. Now they'll form a new, larger flock." Branikk puts an arm around me and turns me toward the riverbank where Aurora waits. "Let's leave them to it and get you some dinner."

When he stops us on the edge of the rock slab, I squint hard into the darkness, then shake my head. "I can't see the far side well enough to jump across."

"Not to worry." He sweeps me off my feet in a bridal carry, his strong arms holding me effortlessly to his chest. He leaps across the gap, lands easily, and strides forward without setting me down. Normally, I'd be hella uncomfortable to trust my safety to someone else like this, but his body moves with such ease and power, I'm okay with it.

I trust him.

It's been a long time since I've felt this safe and cared for, like I have someone I can count on.

My hands tighten around his neck, his long hair swinging as he walks and brushing against my cheek. It's soft and smells amazing. I pull even closer to him, almost nuzzling his neck. By the time he reaches the riverbank, I'm only picturing him naked a little bit. Just a smidge. Barely at all.

I don't want to let go.