The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

back to chasing the bird. The wolven she’d hugged trotted
on, and I swore it smiled.
Once we passed, I looked back at Casteel. But before I
could ask the same question as I had nearly every time we
passed someone yesterday when I couldn’t tell if they were
of Atlantian descent or one of the bloodlines, Casteel beat
me to it. “Both were Atlantian,” he said, his thumb resuming
the slow and utterly distracting circles. “The first were of
Atlantian descent. Mortals. The last two were elemental.”
“Oh,” I whispered, focusing ahead. Atlantians had
always been cooler toward me, with a few exceptions like
Emil, Naill, and Elijah. My heart squeezed painfully as I
thought of Elijah and Magda—of all those Atlantians,
Descenters, and wolven senselessly murdered by the
Ascended. Even then, I could hear Elijah’s deep belly laugh.
But yesterday, the vast majority of those we came
across had been warm and welcoming, just like the ones we
passed now. Could it be that those of like mind as the
Unseen were truly a small fraction of the populace? Just as a
tiny kernel of real hope formed in my chest, Casteel’s arm
tightened around me.
Sometimes, I wondered if he knew where my thoughts
had gone, which made me think of something else. “Do you
have a changeling in your bloodline, Cas?”
“Not sure, but I can tell you something’s changing in my
pants right now,” he murmured.
“Oh, my gods.” I barked out a loud laugh as several of
the nearby wolven made rough, huffing sounds. “That was
so...”
“Witty?” he suggested, while Kieran snorted.
“Stupid,” I said, biting down on my lip as a giggle snuck
free. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Neither can I,” Kieran agreed, shaking his head. “But
the Da’Neer bloodline is purer than his thoughts.”
I grinned as we passed small groups of people heading
in and out of the narrow roads.