remind myself that just because Virago took my arm back doesn’t mean anything. It’s a very chivalrous thing to do, and she’s kind of implied that she thinks she has to protect me. Which…while being chivalrous and sweet, still isn’t remotely true. Maybe the reason she took my arm is that she thinks I’ll trip on a candy bar wrapper, and she’s just heading off having to dive to catch me. Yes. That’s totally it. I mean I was totally graceful this morning when she picked me up from sprawling on top of Shelley.
I grow even redder remembering that.
By the time that we reach the escalator by Penney’s, my heart is beating too fast, and I wonder if drinking so much espresso so quickly was the best idea. I toss my empty cup into a garbage can and wipe my damp palms on my jeans. Virago has (sadly) let go of me to stare at the escalator with her arms crossed over the breastplate of her armor, and a single, imperious brow raised.
She looks so out of place here, the wolf’s tail (or, at least, I assume it’s a wolf’s tail—I should ask her about that sometime) over her shoulder, the silver of the fur mixing with the ink-black of her hair, her leather boots straight out of a fantasy novel, her armor scratched and banged up, attention to detail stuff you don’t usually see on replicas. The thing is, I’m starting to realize this is really not a replica .
People keep staring at her, but not really like she’s an oddity. More like she commands their gaze to gravitate toward her with her regal presence alone. She’s languid and sensual as she strides forward, graceful as a dancer, strength and power radiating off of her like a shimmer. She’s standing with her feet hip-width apart now, as she stares at the escalator, that power drawing me in like a sell, and I’m kind of weak in the knees as I edge over to her from the garbage can, clearing my throat.
“What is this contraption?” asks Virago then, indicating the escalator with a wave of her hand.
“That’s…a sort of movable staircase,” I tell her, my eyes flicking to the second level of the mall. “It’ll take us up to the second story where the store is.”
“Oh no. No,” she tells me firmly. I stare at her perplexed as she frowns. “They used witchcraft to try and make movable staircases in the palace in Arktos City,” says Virago, shaking her head ruefully. “It didn’t work. They are not to be trusted, Holly,” she tells me completely seriously, her bright blue gaze searching mine.
I should laugh at that statement, but she says it with such strong conviction that I sort of stare at the escalator for a moment, uncertain of what to do.
“We…um. We could walk all the way to the other end of the mall. It’s where the stairs are,” I tell her, chewing at my lower lip. “Or you could give it a shot. I promise, it’ll last for only a minute, and it’s so quick and easy!” I tell her brightly. “See? Watch me.” I step forward and on to the first step, then take a step down, and a step down again as the escalator keeps its slow, careful ascent going. “See? Piece of cake,” I tell her with a broad smile, crooking my finger toward her. “Want to give it a shot?”
Virago reaches out her hand, and across the space between us, she takes mine.
Her face is set in steely determination as our arms draw apart, for the escalator continues in its relentless climb, taking me away from Virago. She breathes out, narrows her eyes and takes one big step forward.
“Great! Now the other one…” I tell her as her other foot remains firmly on the ground below. Her legs stretch out for a moment, and then she takes that last step forward, finally standing with both feet on the escalator.
“This is most undignified,” she says, a brow up as she rides the escalator upward with me. I smile at her, shaking my head.
As if she could
I grow even redder remembering that.
By the time that we reach the escalator by Penney’s, my heart is beating too fast, and I wonder if drinking so much espresso so quickly was the best idea. I toss my empty cup into a garbage can and wipe my damp palms on my jeans. Virago has (sadly) let go of me to stare at the escalator with her arms crossed over the breastplate of her armor, and a single, imperious brow raised.
She looks so out of place here, the wolf’s tail (or, at least, I assume it’s a wolf’s tail—I should ask her about that sometime) over her shoulder, the silver of the fur mixing with the ink-black of her hair, her leather boots straight out of a fantasy novel, her armor scratched and banged up, attention to detail stuff you don’t usually see on replicas. The thing is, I’m starting to realize this is really not a replica .
People keep staring at her, but not really like she’s an oddity. More like she commands their gaze to gravitate toward her with her regal presence alone. She’s languid and sensual as she strides forward, graceful as a dancer, strength and power radiating off of her like a shimmer. She’s standing with her feet hip-width apart now, as she stares at the escalator, that power drawing me in like a sell, and I’m kind of weak in the knees as I edge over to her from the garbage can, clearing my throat.
“What is this contraption?” asks Virago then, indicating the escalator with a wave of her hand.
“That’s…a sort of movable staircase,” I tell her, my eyes flicking to the second level of the mall. “It’ll take us up to the second story where the store is.”
“Oh no. No,” she tells me firmly. I stare at her perplexed as she frowns. “They used witchcraft to try and make movable staircases in the palace in Arktos City,” says Virago, shaking her head ruefully. “It didn’t work. They are not to be trusted, Holly,” she tells me completely seriously, her bright blue gaze searching mine.
I should laugh at that statement, but she says it with such strong conviction that I sort of stare at the escalator for a moment, uncertain of what to do.
“We…um. We could walk all the way to the other end of the mall. It’s where the stairs are,” I tell her, chewing at my lower lip. “Or you could give it a shot. I promise, it’ll last for only a minute, and it’s so quick and easy!” I tell her brightly. “See? Watch me.” I step forward and on to the first step, then take a step down, and a step down again as the escalator keeps its slow, careful ascent going. “See? Piece of cake,” I tell her with a broad smile, crooking my finger toward her. “Want to give it a shot?”
Virago reaches out her hand, and across the space between us, she takes mine.
Her face is set in steely determination as our arms draw apart, for the escalator continues in its relentless climb, taking me away from Virago. She breathes out, narrows her eyes and takes one big step forward.
“Great! Now the other one…” I tell her as her other foot remains firmly on the ground below. Her legs stretch out for a moment, and then she takes that last step forward, finally standing with both feet on the escalator.
“This is most undignified,” she says, a brow up as she rides the escalator upward with me. I smile at her, shaking my head.
As if she could
Similar Books
