“Dragon!”
I turned to see my uncle embrace my father, then turn to my mother and haul her off the ground. She was small, like my sister, Catryn, and I wondered how it would be to feel so delicate within a family. To be a woman who bore eight children, a woman of iron and bone, and still look fragile.
“D’Falcos clan welcomes you to Jitra,” my uncle said.
“D’Dragyn clan is most welcomed,” my father said, bowing to him at such formality.
“And our little bride!” my uncle cried, turning to me. He was not like my father. He was tall—most desert men were—but he was soft where my father was battle scars and rock.
And it was silly to call me little. I was only half a hand shorter than he was.
“Uncle,” I said, sweeping my wedding robes back and giving him a bow before he laughed and hugged me.
“It is a miracle,” he said. “The Trifectate and the clans in one city without any of it on fire.”
My heart went tight and my mouth ran dry.
“Saying things may wish them so,” my mother said, patting her brother on the arm. “Don’t.”
He huffed out in protest, but she silenced him. “Is the procession ready?” she asked.
He smiled at her and nodded.
As we moved through Jitra, everyone came out of their houses, offering threads and blessings to me, and then followed us. It was a long labor, and Jitra sloped down sharply, so much that I felt like my body tilted back as we walked down, my feet moving forward but my head leaning away, torn between my future and past.
My clan was around me in a cloud, but they all suddenly stopped and whispered and giggled. They parted enough to let me see why.
There was a man there, standing across the river. He stood beside a girl, younger than I was. They both had pale skin and dark, shining hair. She wore some kind of fashion that was like a robe but bound tight to her body with ribbons, but he was magnificent. I knew it was the traditional garb of the foreign men, but his clothes were cut so close to his body they seemed indecent, and hidden behind my covering, I let my eyes wander. He had powerful legs and a narrow waist, shoulders that seemed wider than my hands outstretched. The kind of shoulders that could surround a girl and make a fortress with their strength.
And eyes. Such eyes. They were green, bright as fire, lashed thick in black and so powerful their heat leaped across the distance.
He was looking at me.
He nodded, slow and respectful. Though he couldn’t see my eyes, I swore his met mine.
My cousins and family closed around me then, pushing me along. Please, I prayed to the Skies, let that be my husband.
We kept walking, and I caught glimpses of the foreign man as he processed down as well, meeting with others dressed in similar uniforms.
Maybe it wasn’t my husband. Perhaps that woman was his wife, and I still had yet to know my fate.
We reached the edge of the city, and the clan stopped. Cael came forward, leading me to the very edge of the cliff. Beside us, the river that was the life-giving vein running down the center of Jitra came to an end, dropping over the cliff and pooling thirty feet below.
As I held my breath, Cael helped me down the old, slick ladder of rock to stand on the ledge beside the pool. I looked up, and my family was only shadows against the bright glare of light.
Cael touched my arm. I let out a breath and allowed him to lead me forward to the Teorainn, the small bridge of rock that the river had cut under. I could feel the thunder of the water and the falls vibrating beneath my feet.
The Teorainn was only feet wide and not much longer across, the very limit of Jitra and my world, and at the sight of it, my heart pounded.
Keeping my eyes away from the thousand-foot drop on the other side of the bridge, I looked over, and my heart matched the thunder of the falls.
As if I had wished him into being, the handsome man I had seen earlier was standing there, his hands behind his back, looking regal and stately. It must be him. It must be my husband.
I looked at him, in his perfect grandeur, as if expecting some signal. But he couldn’t see me looking through the cloth, I remembered. I knew he had a younger brother—this must be the man beside him, slightly taller and more severe, his nose twisted, his face hard and brutal like it was carved from the rock around us.
Of course, I couldn’t be certain. One of them was my husband and one of them was his witness, and I suspected I wouldn’t know for sure until my husband was the one to remove the veil.
Cael stood behind me on the small landing and nudged me toward the Teorainn. I could see the pool to my left and the infinite, terrible drop on the right.
A gust of wind pushed me a little, and I sucked in a breath, trying to plant my feet.
It was unnatural, a desert girl so high above the earth. I was a dragon, a scorpion, not a bird.
I stepped forward and froze. I was shaking so hard I didn’t trust myself to take another step. My whole body was trembling, and I couldn’t look up, staring at my feet and the rushing water beneath the bridge so long the rest of me felt off-balance too.
I am going to fall.
Uselessly, wildly, I put my arms out, trying to balance, and it didn’t help. My heart was pounding in my throat, and I couldn’t even cry out or look for my brother. I was alone, and I was going to die.
Arms caught me, but it wasn’t Cael—my savior was in front of me, and my hands landed on stiff black cloth. I looked up to see the broken nose of the second Trifectate man on the bridge.
My heart sank as I realized my girlish hopes of the handsome man becoming my husband were wrong. Certainly it didn’t matter—despite his nose, he wasn’t ugly, by any means. Besides, I wasn’t marrying him for his face—and he had just saved me from falling a thousand feet, after all.
He took my shaking hands, his skin warm and rough against mine, and the shaking calmed. “Come,” he said, loosing one of my hands. I drew a deep breath, and my heart beat heavy and hard as he took the end of the cloth and unwound it from my face.
Our eyes met in truth for the first time. I drew a slow breath in, and something within me shifted, moved, sliding around my chest and pulling tight, shivering down my spine.
But then it was like the shiver was contagious, and the earth jolted, shaking and moving, threatening to throw us off the Teorainn as I gasped, clinging to the black cloth on my husband’s arms.
It wasn’t my imagination either; someone shouted, and my husband caught me, holding my arm and waist, so close to holding me tight in his arms that I couldn’t breathe.
A moment later the world seemed to calm, and the guests all looked at one another, murmuring about what had caused the tremor. My husband took my hand again.
“What was that?” he asked.
I shook my head, mute. I had no idea.
He looked past me to Cael. “Is the bridge still stable?” he asked, shouting over the water’s roar.