Phoenix Flame - Sara Holland Page 0,11

dream and I just pulled him out of it. “Is it?” he says. “I always thought it bittersweet. How even without his lady, he found life again in new worlds. Perhaps he even found a new love in one of them.”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” I press. “How could he have traveled to other worlds without getting sick?”

Brekken shrugs. “Supposedly he had some talisman that let him pass through. I don’t remember exactly. But, Maddie, lots of them have just such a traveler.” His hands tighten around mine. “Maybe it’s possible. Maybe we’ve just forgotten how.”

“You’re drunk,” I say, giggling despite the spike of sadness that’s just gone through me.

“No, I’ve had truth serum. And whose fault is that?”

His lips graze my temple, my cheek, and a thrilling, bone-deep want rolls through me.

But … I still have a job to do. I can’t make out with Brekken here by the lake all night. Even if at the moment, I want badly to do just that. I stop his lips with a finger before they can find mine again.

“I have to get the rest of the signatures,” I say breathlessly, hoarsely. “On the peace treaty.”

Brekken sighs; cool air brushes my fingers. “All right, then.” He steps away from me with a heavy, regretful sigh. “Can I help you?”

“Sure.” I try to sound businesslike, even though my body aches like a part of me has been torn away now that he’s not touching me anymore. “Talk it up to the Fiorden delegation, so that they’re willing to sign when I come round. And …” I hesitate, then go on. “I’ve been trying to dig up information about the soul trade, how the objects got through Havenfall without us noticing. So if you hear anything about collectors, or silver merchants, or magpies, listen close.”

With the mention of the soul trade, the lightness drains out of the moment, both of us remembering what we have to do. Our responsibility. Brekken straightens up and combs his fingers through his hair, making it fall back into place. I touch my mouth with my fingertip, hoping my lip stain isn’t smeared.

Brekken reaches out to cradle my cheek for one more moment, then lets his hand fall. “All right,” he says, turning back toward the inn, his eyes fixing on the golden lights of its windows. “Onward.”

3

Later, after the dancing is over, I head to the kitchen, where Marcus, Graylin, and I have planned to meet and discuss our next steps, as we’ve done almost every night since the door to Solaria closed and the Silver Prince was banished back to his Realm.

I’m exhausted, my feet sore from dancing—more like chasing the delegates around as they danced—but I feel amped up from the success of the night. Despite being more than a little distracted after stepping out with Brekken, I’ve gotten almost all the delegates’ signatures on the peace treaty, safe in the velvet folio tucked into my bag. I know many of them are still skeptical, but once the treaty is signed and official, hopefully it will ease their concerns about Solarians. It’s imperative that they’re welcoming, because when we figure out how to free the Solarian souls trapped in the silver objects, we don’t want them to face hostility from the delegates.

Especially if we find Nate …

I push the thought away, trying not to get my hopes up.

The kitchen is as grand as the rest of the inn—with shining polished-brick floors, huge high windows that show off the night sky, and gleaming copper cookware hanging neatly on the walls, reflecting the cozy light of the lamp Marcus has on the oak worktable. When I get there, he and Graylin are sitting with Princess Enetta, the future ruler of the kingdom of Myr in Fiordenkill. She looks as lovely as ever in a shimmering gold gown, matching gold beads woven into the ends of her braids.

The trio is leaning over a bunch of papers spread out in front of them, and my heart beats faster as I recall what Marcus has been working on for the last few nights. Those are the Silver Prince’s papers. Even though he’s back at Oasis after his play to take over Havenfall failed, we’d be idiots to think that was the only thing up his sleeve. We can only hope the papers contain information about his intentions, whatever he might do next.

Marcus’s smile to me is a little strained, and I wonder if he’s still mad at me for kissing Brekken