she says. “Watching the Lovers from afar.”
“Who now?”
She turns her head to study me, and her dark eyes meet mine. “Perhaps you use other names. The Lovers are what we call the moons.” She lifts one hand to point at each in turn, and we both look up. “Here is Miella, and here is her beloved, Danna. Menaran was a riverstrider, and Miella was his betrothed. He had a journey to make, so he left her in the city with his sister Danna. When he returned, the two were in love, and would not be parted. So he returned to the river. Now Miella and Danna dance together in the sky for eternity. Menaran is a point of light that appears every century or so.”
“A comet?” I suggest.
She shrugs, so perhaps the word is unfamiliar. “A riverstrider returning from his latest journey,” she replies. “To pass by them and look on once more.”
We stare at the moons for a while, the sounds of lapping water at the river’s edge blending with the occasional creak of the wooden boat. The air moves more quickly across the water, creating a gentle breeze that cuts through the humidity of the forest-sea. My eyes automatically seek out the dark gray mass that’s the underside of Alciel—I can’t help but wonder if those clouds are all I’ll ever see of my home again.
Then I realize that Nimh is no longer looking up at the moons—she’s watching me instead, gaze curious. “Can I ask you something, North? Something personal?”
“All right.” There’s not much I wouldn’t answer right now, not much I wouldn’t do to keep the pain in her eyes at bay.
“I was wondering …” She looks away, gaze on the stars above us. And on the Lovers. The clouds are creeping in, threatening to obscure them. “Did you ever kiss one of your friends?”
Whatever I was expecting, that certainly wasn’t it. I blink, consider the question, try to ignore the way my cheeks are heating, and nod before I realize she’s not looking at me. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, I did, both of them.”
It feels like something I shouldn’t admit to her. I don’t know why. But when she looks back at me, there’s only curiosity on her face, and perhaps a hint of loneliness. “What does it feel like?” she asks.
I nearly choke. I suppose I did agree to answer a question. “Well, it …” I have to pause, thinking back, trying to quantify the feeling somehow. “Well, this part is probably obvious, but the feeling starts at your lips. Sort of a tingle, or … not a tickle, but it’s related. It’s very enjoyable. Then it moves, sometimes to the back of your neck and down your spine, sometimes along your arms, to your fingers. And you have your eyes closed, so you forget where you are, and what’s happening around you.”
I’ve lowered my lashes while I’m speaking, and when I look up at her, she’s staring squarely at me. I can’t pull my eyes from her lips, still dusted with gold from the ceremony.
“It sounds … lovely,” she murmurs.
“It, um …” I drag my attention up to her eyes with considerable effort, and swallow hard. “It is. I—I wish I could show you.”
Those eyes of hers widen a little, the gold-dusted lips parting, and this time I see the moment in which her gaze flickers down, fixing just a moment on my mouth. Then she drops her gaze entirely. “I … I apologize for my questions.”
“Don’t,” I murmur. A little thought flickers to life in the back of my mind. “Nimh. No mortal is allowed to touch you, because you’re divine. But …”
I don’t say the words, But if I’m a god here too …
I move ever so slightly closer. I can feel the heat from her skin.
She draws a breath, eyes still downcast. Can she have already thought of the same thing?
But she shakes her head after a long, silent moment, and shifts away.
“We do not know. And after what Jezara did to my people …” Nimh stiffens and goes on with remote certainty. “I cannot risk it.”
I can see it happening, the closing down of her face, the shuttering of her soul. The girl who wanted to know how it felt to be kissed by someone who cared for her is banished to make room again for the goddess.
I swallow hard. “What did happen with her? The goddess before you? Matias wouldn’t talk about it.”
Nimh is quiet, and for a