Fantasmical 2023

Can You See Them in the Lights?

We waited as long as we could to get the marks. Or I should say, he waited for me. If not for me, Dahlia would have taken the Test ages ago, but...

I'll wait as long as you need, Fennec. Because I want you for my mate and no one else.

Dahlia, who doesn't even know my real name is Ash, and never will.

"Greetings, kittens," the blood ink artist welcomes us as we enter the chamber.

"Kittens," Dahlia repeats, his grip on my hand tightening, though I don't think he realizes it.

"Yes, though once we are done here, you will be full Shadow Stalkers with all the duties and privileges that affords."

"What do you need us to do?" I ask, trying to tug my hand from Dahlia's before my fingers go numb.

"Grind these pigments with the mortar and pestle provided until they're a fine powder. Then use the blade to add your blood and mix it until it's smooth and even."

I swallow hard. "Our...blood?"

The ink artist's gaze flicks between the two of us. "Yes, the ink for the Blood Bond mark is created using your mate's blood. It's how you will always be able to locate one another."

"Oh."

He gestures toward two cushions on opposite sides of a low table. "Sit."

As the ink artist leaves us to prepare his equipment, I lean over the table to whisper, "What exactly are we crushing up for this? I mean are these dragon scales?"

"And what if they are?" Dahlia challenges.

"Well..."

"It's too late for us to back out now." Dahlia stops grinding. "You wouldn't abandon me, would—?"

"Of course not. Never."

"Then does it really matter, Fennec?"

His blue eyes are pleading. Desperate. Dahlia is a lot of things. He's cunning. He's ruthless. But he is never desperate.

Even back in the Alchemist Chamber when he was threatening that man to keep silent about my flames, he did not—for a moment—sound desperate.

"No, it doesn't," I reassure him with a nervous grin. "I just... Wouldn't it be amazing to have dragon scales beneath your skin?"

Dahlia blinks at me for a moment before he goes back to grinding.

"As if you'd need more hiding beneath your skin," he says with a conspiratorial smile.

I just stare at him as my pestle stills.

His brilliant blue eyes watch me from beneath thick dark lashes. He knows. Dahlia knows what I can summon from beneath my skin. And he hasn't said a word.

* * *

"Are we all done here?" the ink artist inquires as he examines our mixtures.

"Good. Good. And which of you would like to go first?"

"I'll go first!" I volunteer, my gaze darting over to Dahlia.

His smile is warm and approving as he holds out his mortar to me. "For you, my little desert fox."

* * *

The Blood Bond mark seems to shimmer like midnight scales as it catches the light.

It hurt far less than I expected, but I suspect that has more to do with the draught he made me drink than anything else. And even now everything still feels insubstantial and unreal.

"Are you satisfied, Stalker Fennec?" someone questions me.

"Huh?" I look away from my newly inked skin and up into the tired face of the artist.

"If it meets with your approval, I'll wrap it."

I look back at my left wrist. At the simplified silhouette of a cat with an S-shaped tail, then back at him.

I nod. "Oh... Yes, it's..."

And that's when I finally notice them—the lights! The lantern lights...there are things moving in them. There are creatures moving in the lights!

As he bandages my newly inked wrist I gape in increasing fascination at the tiny creatures dancing in the flames.

What are they...?

"Fennec...?"

I whirl toward the familiar voice with excitement. "Dahlia, the lights!"

He looks over his shoulder. "What about them?"

"Can you see the—?"

He cuts me off. "Everything does seem unusually bright, doesn't it?"

Dahlia turns back to the ink artist, holding up his bandaged wrist. "Thank you for these, your work is exquisite."

He grabs me by my right arm and begins urging me to my feet. "We'll be going now. He needs to sleep it off."

"Understandable. Has he never partook?"

"Doubtful. We were barely more than children when we came here."

"And yet you seem...unaffected."

Dahlia freezes. "Some of us were blessed with remarkable constitution."

"Ah."

"Good night. And thank you once again for your artistry."

"It was my pleasure," he says with a bow.

* * *

Dahlia waits until we're alone in our new quarters before he asks quietly, "What were you saying about the lights?"

I drop down onto one of our slender beds. "Oh, now you want to know?"

He drops down beside me. "Yes now that it's just us I'll hear anything you want to say."

I cast my gaze to the side with a scowl. "I just wanted to know if you could see it."

Dahlia tries to lean into my view. "See what?"

"The creatures in the lights. They're in the fires too. And in the...magic..."

The look on his face makes me realize how insane I sound.

I start to withdraw from him—trying to put distance between us. But Dahlia grabs hold of my robe, yanking me back.

"Hey, I believe you. I can't see it, but if you tell me it's there, I'll believe you, Fennec. Always."

I tuck my chin. "I sound crazy."

He cups my cheek, gently urging my head back up so we're eye to eye again.

"No more crazy than all the nights I told you the moon sang to me."

I rest my forehead against his. "I was terrified it wouldn't be you who walked through that door."

He nuzzles my cheek. "As if I would ever have let anyone else have you. You're mine, Little Desert Fox."