Page 9 of Fallacies

“Adorable,” Gemma snorts, reaching for the handle on the front door. “Let’s go.”

Callan grabs my wrist before I can take a full step forward, gently pulling me back to face him. He dips his head to kiss me, and the lingering notes of whiskey make me want a glass of my own.

Callan pulls away, tilting my face up to his. “Please be safe.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s just a wedding.”

“It was just Selumira,” he counters.

I wince, shivering at the resurfacing of the memory. “Touché.”

Before he can second-guess letting me go, I surge up to my toes and kiss him again. Firm and confident.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him, turning towards the door.

Pax is smirking into his drink when I pass, snickering like a boy embarrassed by public displays of affection.

I make sure Kimber is out of earshot, then I knock the toe of his boot with my own. “Hey, next time she gets all dressed up like that, tell her she looks beautiful.”

Pax huffs a laugh.

“Or someone else will.”

His face falls, a blank and somewhat fearful expression overtaking his features. I pat his leg sympathetically, then I meet Gemma and Kimber outside.

We pass through a dimly lit Pirn, the breeze a bit colder now when it blows. It’s crisp and cool—the beginning of the season's shifting. Kimber prattles on and on about the ceremony we’re about to attend, and Gemma teases that it’s all those romance books she reads melting her into a helpless romantic.

Kimber insists she was born that way.

I’m thankful to not be the topic of conversation for once, even if it’s about something as absurd as a Soul Binding. It isn’t that I don’t believe in love—I do. I’ve just never experienced that kind of love. Unconditional, dire, and all-consuming. To sync your life with someone else's? To bind your souls…for eternity?

I’d like to crawl out of my skin just thinking about it.

Gemma moves forward, leading us down a narrow path towards the lake. The water is pitch dark, a bright reflection of the crescent moon in the center, rippling with the subtle movement of the calm surface. The air becomes slightly more humid, and the earthy scent of the water is so potent it feels stuck to my skin.

Through a break in the trees ahead, there’s a soft glow of teal and green light and the sound of soft music. As we step through the moss-covered archway, it’s nearly impossible not to gawk.

The space is large and circular, surrounded by a line of flat-top cabins painted a dark navy. The tallest of the buildings sits in the back center, a long white banner hanging from the second-story balcony. There’s a drawing of some sort of sea creature—half human, half fish—colored in with shades of blue and green. I’m too far away to make out the words scrawled beneath it and too enraptured by everything else I’m seeing to care.

Right in front of us is a wide dance floor—or what I’m assuming is one based on my knowledge of mortal weddings. Except this floor is…alive. Teal and bright blue squares checkerboard the space, detailed like slabs of marble, but the swirls move like water, rippling when someone passes over them. The intense glow coming from beneath it is the source of all this blue-toned lighting.

“Lakelet quarters,” Gemma whispers as she passes me, moving in the direction of a long table set up beside the floor. When that doesn’t get my feet moving, Kimber tugs on my hand, pulling me with them.

“This is where they live?” I ask, neck craned at the ceremony space set up behind the floor. Rows and rows of golden chairs surround a raised podium, flower petals already thrown down the aisle.

“Yup,” Gemma replies, thanking the Lakelet witch behind the table when he hands her three bubbly drinks in champagne glasses. The liquid is also tinted a rich teal color.

Gemma gives one to me and one to Kimber, then pushes hers to the center for a cheers.

But I’ve played this game before.

“What is it?” I ask Gemma, halting her cheers.

She sighs, mischief in her knowing smile. “Alcohol.”

I take one look at the bubbles in my drink, popping and fizzing, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Nothing is as it seems in Pirn. I learned that lesson a long time ago.

I look back at her, my patience waning. “G.”