A Violet Fire (Vampires in Avignon #1) - Kelsey Quick Page 0,48

between my palms.

“Wow. Look at it,” I yell.

“Wavorly!” Castrel jogs up from behind, pulling me off the ledge. “Really? After what I just said?”

I shrug. “I’m not frail on the outside, just on the inside. That’s what father tells me, anyway. I’ll be fine.”

“Anyone could fall. Even me,” Castrel replies, sitting me down and opening the picnic basket. “...Not just people who are sick. Here.”

He hands me a sourdough loaf and a plate of cream cheese with yellow onion. My mouth waters, although the bustling city streets beyond the railing win my attention. Dancing gypsies and men dressed funny doing tricks with cards and balls line the roads that are filled with people. If only I could be right in front of them like the rest of the children.

“I knew you might like that one.” Castrel eyes me and points to the man doing tricks. “So I got these for you.”

He hands me the paper bag with a paper-wrapped parcel inside. I stare at it for a long time before carefully untying the string. The surprise in my hands unfolds to a deck of cards with hand-drawn jesters on them. I smile wide.

“This is wonderful. I love it.” My chest caves with longing as I return my gaze to the streets that stretch to the horizon.

“You know, this may not last forever. The doctors have said—”

“That it will probably clear up before I’m thirteen,” I turn my face and snicker.

He chuckles. “You know, then?”

“Yeah, but it’s so far away.”

“Only four years.” He spreads cream cheese on his rye.

“I can’t even remember being alive four years ago.” I wrap my cards back up slowly before stuffing the sourdough so far in my mouth that I have to open chew for a bit.

He laughs. “At least you have the best view in the entire city.”

“I suppose.” I decide to change the subject. “What was Mr. Henry like today? Bitter and cranky as usual?” I had never met Mr. Henry, but Castrel would talk about him every day that he stopped by. He was the milkman of the town, a service needed almost every day by the military boys under Sorgan Lavarn—Castrel’s father.

“Yee-up, same old Mr. Henry.”

I nod and contemplate a little. “Do you think he cries tears of milk?”

“Maybe.” Castrel taps his chin with his finger. “Or maybe he pees milk.”

We crack up laughing. Pee is always funny.

I place another ring of onion on top of my cream-cheesed bread and take a big bite.

“Have you been practicing?” Castrel asks, and suddenly the bright blue sky seems as gray as my room.

I look down into my lap full of crumbs. “No.”

“Wave.”

“What? I don’t want to think about it.” If I have to think about Essence Dissonance, then I have to think about the things I’m hiding from. The things we all are hiding from.

“You have to, though. Just in case.”

I choke down a pervasive sadness. “No. I don’t want to.”

✽✽✽

“Wave?” Savvy snaps me from my thoughts. The night of making new friends managed to conjure up old memories—times I fought to forget so I wouldn’t have to dwell on their forever absence from this world. My heart sinks in my chest.

“So, what did you think?” she asks in French for the sake of privacy. I laugh a little beneath my breath and reply, “Yeah it was fun. Emi’s nice. I really like Glera too.”

Savvy smiles up at me from beneath her sheet, “...And Katarii?”

“Growing on me,” I admit. The rest of the supply units appear sound asleep all around us on the cement floor, except for Savvy and me—though we are tired enough to pass out. Hours ago, after dinner, Emi took all of us to the outer recreation area—another type of Nightingale cage that includes forestry, trails, and a pond, all surrounded by walls. We stayed up playing guessing games, singing, and telling fabricated stories. It was probably the most refreshing social experience that I’ve ever had. Even now, the lingering warmth from the fun evening lightens my spirits, but it feels wrong, like I shouldn’t be enjoying anything while I’m here.

I reach down to grab my toes at the end of the canvas bed roll—stretching out my legs after the short run I managed to get in before curfew. To keep myself in shape, and to avoid thinking about how trapped I am, I settled for a short run in the rec area—after our card playing. Keeping my body ready for the day I escape is the only way to keep