Read Wind Over Bone: The Estralony Cycle #2 (Young Adult Fantasy Romance) for Free Online

them.
    “ Come on,” Mari said, sighing. “Let’s pay our respects to Uncle before we get all hot and red.”
    Rokal sniggered behind his mask. Edloiva pulled on it and it snapped back with a painful-sounding slap. He rubbed his cheeks, a red glow spreading all the way down to his mouth. “Where is he?”
    “Over there,” said the girl in the falcon mask, pointing to a far corner. “Ministering to a ring of wilting flowers.” They walked over, squeezed into single file by the crowd.
    “ The crow,” cried a dumpy old man. He seized Mari, lifted her mask, and planted a kiss on her cheek. Too late Sarid looked around and realized there were no masks on the faces; she saw Edloiva pulling hers off.
    “ Take it off,” whispered Edloiva, “so you’re not thought disrespectful.” Sarid gave her head a little shake. “Here––” Edloiva made a swipe at her face, and so as to not undergo the humiliation of Edloiva forcefully removing it, she took a breath and placed it atop her head. “But your hair!” And Edloiva in turn was seized by the old man, who must be Count Pash, the patriarch at Charevost.
    He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Miss Edloiva! Your father’s teaching comportment in the south, isn’t he?” Edloiva said something sweet in reply and Sarid perceived that she was next in line. She started edging away.
    “And who’s this?” roared the man, taking Sarid by the hand, pulling her up.
    “ Rischa found her somewhere,” said Mari, shrugging.
    Pash went still. A muscle twitched in his powdered cheek. “A witchling, Master Rischa?” Then he laughed and kissed her on the mouth––an interminably long, sloppy kiss. He thrust her away and seized Rischa by the neck. “Watch out for those eyes, boy.” He reached next for Mari’s sister. “Leva,” he said, kissing her as well, “my comelier niece.” The girl smiled weakly and broke away from him. The gap was immediately filled by more girls.
    Leva stared at Sarid, her falcon mask dangling from a finger. She said to Rischa, “Your little dalliances have always seemed trite and inconsequential. But this?” She turned and walked away, and the crowd closed around her. Sarid put her mask back on.
    “ Well done,” said Mari to Sarid. “Nothing like a pretty face sowing seeds of discord.”
    “ Ooh, look,” chimed Edloiva, pushing at them, “they’re going to dance a yod spin.”
     
    ***
     
    The next dance was wild and fast, with circles spinning counter to each other, and the beat lashed into frenzy by musicians slamming spoons on kettledrums. Sarid, already warm with drink, felt as though a fire were burning in her hands, these clenched by a different masker at every turn. Rischa was swept away and Sarid looked briefly but couldn’t find him. Flushed and excited she forgot him and Leva, and was tangled into the rich dark and color of the night.
    When the dance broke up she was in a different part of the hall. The molding had been carved to look like a grotto. Candles poked out among plaster stalagmites.
    “Fadril, darling,” said a swan man to his swan lady, “you’re already slowing. I’ll get you some perry.”
    “ No you shan’t, because I won’t drink it, and you will, and you’re wobbling enough to look almost a natural dancer––” He dragged her, both giggling madly, back into the crowd. Sarid attempted to follow them and tripped over someone’s hand. It was lying over the stones as if dead, and she followed its slack line back into the gloom. It belonged to a boy, sitting against the wall. He was wearing a mask––an otter, she thought, but she wasn’t sure. She looked around for the pile of vomit and couldn’t find it.
    “ Shall I get you some water?” she said.
    “ They are coming with their screws.” He was holding a pear in his hand.
    “ Are you all right?”
    “ Light save me. The wounds will never close.” He put the pear on a shelf in the rock and looked up at her. Sarid saw the large pupils through