Tainted

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I open my mouth to come to her aide, but to my surprise, Vates beats me to it.

"She does," Vates says, his voice low and powerful. He takes Tanymede's free hand and holds it. He gives Tanymede a look so tender, I feel as if I'm intruding.

"Well, ah, that is good." Seftis clears his throat. He drops Tanymede's other hand, as if he'd forgotten he was holding onto it, and lopes quickly away.

Tanymede is staring at Vates, grinning more broadly than I've ever seen. Vates gazes back at her with those swirling eyes, but there's something about him that feels like it's slipping. Tanymede must notice it too, for she sets Vates's hand gently on the table before it can fall from hers.

She says something under her breath and pats his hand, before turning her focus back on her own plate.

I eat all three rolls in quick succession and lean back in my chair, eyeing the breads plate on the far serving table. There's a dark loaf peppered with seeds that seems to be calling my name.

"Would you play Zemet tonight?" Char asks, before I can get up from the table.

"Of course I will," I answer.

Char's eye crinkles in a smile.

"But don't expect me to go easy on you," I say.

Char rocks his shoulders in a "no". "I will battle you as an equal," he says.

I clap him on the back and stand, intending to make a quick walk toward the remaining bread.

Surma intercepts me before I can. While her black leather gloves are still firmly in place, she's now wearing a baby blue gown that fades to white as it reaches her feet. The material isn't silk, but I can't place it. It's light and airy, making it seem as if wisps of clouds hang around her ankles.

"The Scout would like to say hello," she says softly. She holds out a fluted glass filled with a bubbling amber liquid. "It's alcoholic. You don't have to drink it."

"No, that's alright. Thank you." I twirl the liquid, watching the bubbles rise to the surface and burst against the glass.

The glass itself is exquisite. The stem is encircled by an elegant, green dragon, whose head rests just below the bulb of the glass. Its tail rings the base. I haven't seen these glasses before, I would have remembered them.

"They are special. From Pruden," Surma says, noticing my focus.

"They're stunning," I say.

Surma smiles with pride. "We raise them."

It hits me that she thinks I've meant the dragons. I'm too stunned at the thought that her family raises dragons to correct her.

"To you," Surma says, raising her glass.

Embarrassed, I take a drink.

The liquor runs down my throat like a river. I feel it swish and swirl, filling every dark part of me with molten gold.

"What is this?" I ask, peering into the glass.

"Glitter Gulp," Surma says.

I've been old enough to legally drink for a year now, but I've never tasted anything like this. It's like bottled joy.

"Would you like more?" Surma asks.

"Yes."

Surma leads me to a table near the well. It's farther from the fire, and quieter. The Scouts have all changed into party attire. Some wear dresses, while others wear pants and fitted shirts.