She knew she shouldn’t ask. “Are you happy?”
He hesitated. “It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
His step faltered, and he let out a heavy sigh. “See these dark circles under my eyes? I’ve barely slept since I met you.”
“Doubt you’ll sleep tonight, either.” She cursed her voice’s bitter tinge.
“I almost broke the engagement.”
Her breath caught. “Why didn’t you?”
“And then what? Run away with you? Where would we go?”
“You tell me, if you’ve lost so much sleep over it.”
“Tiros.” He looked away, then back, into her eyes. “I thought we’d go to Tiros, to Vara. Explain it all to her. Maybe we’re not the first Snakes to feel this way. Maybe she could help us.”
“Maybe.” Sura matched his gaze, while inside she begged her meloxa-weakened self-control to hold out until the end of the song.
“I had it all figured out,” he whispered. “Until I thought how Kara would feel when I told her. I couldn’t cause her pain. Maybe I’m a coward. But I’ll sacrifice my happiness for hers.”
Sura snorted, the spell of his eyes broken by the absurdity of his words. “You really believe you’re being noble and selfless, don’t you? You want to know what’s going to happen? One day she’ll realize you’ll never be completely hers, and it’ll hurt her that much more. If you’d given her up, she could’ve found someone who would really love her.”
“I do love her,” he hissed. “I had no doubts about marrying her until I met you. And we’ll be happy once we leave Kalindos.”
“I don’t believe that. I think even before me, you wondered if you could be faithful forever.” She cut off his protest. “I also think that in a few years, maybe sooner, you’ll meet someone else you can’t get out of your head. And maybe next time there’ll be nowhere to run.”
His dark eyes flashed with anger. “Why are you saying these things?”
“Because they’re true.”
“Because you’re drunk.”
“I’ll miss you,” she said, though she meant to say, “I hate you.”
His glare slowly faded into a look of deep pain. “Sura, I just don’t know,” he said softly.
“You don’t know what?”
“How I’ll breathe without you.”
The heat crept up from her toes, like the ground itself was on fire. She opened her mouth to speak, though she had no words.
“The song’ll be over soon,” Dravek said. “And there’s nothing more to say, so let’s just…”
She closed her eyes and focused on the touch of his palm against hers. Somehow she’d find a way to lock this moment away forever, so she could take it out and live in it again and again. It would sustain her like food.
The music pulsed through her veins, connecting her to Dravek. She heard the rhythm of his breath quicken even as the beat stayed slow. His hand on her waist remained perfectly still, showing the world not one indication of desire.
Then his thumb twitched against her lowest rib. Whether accidental or on purpose, the tiny motion set off a cascading reaction in her body. The images flooded back into her mind, the story of passion they’d created together, feeding off each other’s desire. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His gaze bored into hers.
She parted her lips, and the bonfire erupted.
17
Kalindos
Sura saw a streak of white flame shoot over their heads.
“Get down!” Dravek dragged her to the ground, covering her with his body. Around them, people screamed. Feet pounded away, and someone shouted for water.
Sura shoved Dravek’s arm from her head. “We have to stop it.” A shard of burning wood hit her cheek. She yelped and swiped it off.
“I am stopping it.” He covered her face again. “Remember, you don’t have to see the fire to control it. Concentrate.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and felt for the base of the flame. It was angry, and hungry for freedom. She reached to smother it, forming a heavy, wet blanket with her mind.
The heat seared her as it flowed in like river rapids, soaking her core with flame. The breath she drew only fanned the fire. She held it in until she thought her lungs would burst.
The weight rolled off her, and she heard Dravek try to speak her name through his hacking cough. She reached out for him. Why was it so dark?
“Sura,” he rasped. “It’s over. Come back. Breathe.”
She tried to force her lungs to release her breath, but they seized and spasmed. Her eyes wouldn’t open.
“Help!” Dravek shouted. “Elora! Someone bring water!”
“Got it,” said a voice Sura recognized as Etarek’s. A trickle of cold water rolled over her cheek, then wet cloths pressed against her eyes and mouth.
“Where’s Elora?” Dravek began to cough and hack again.
“She’s coming,” Etarek said. “Here, drink, or you’ll be in as bad a shape as Sura.”
Elora’s voice came from above. “Is anyone burned?”
“Sura’s not breathing.”
The fear in Dravek’s voice propelled her to try despite the pain. “Yes, I am,” she croaked. “Rather not, though.”
“Thank the Spirits.” Dravek seized her hand, then hissed and dropped it. The heat had singed them both.
“Dravek?” called a voice behind him. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“Kara.” Sura heard him turn and stand up. “Don’t touch me,” he said. “I’ll hurt you.”
Sura cracked open her dry eyes. Dravek’s white shirt—what was left of it—was scorched black, and his face and chest were covered in soot. She put a hand to the front of her own dress, which seemed mostly intact. He had shielded her from the worst of it.
Etarek helped her sit up and put a cold mug to her lips. “It’s just water. Drink.”
Her dry lips pulled apart. As she swallowed, the burning began to ease, though her arms and legs tingled as if sparks were bouncing off the inside of her skin.
“Is everyone safe?” she asked Elora. She would never forgive herself if—
“No one was hurt, thanks to you and Dravek.” The healer dabbed Sura’s face with the cold cloth. “A few minor burns from flying embers, but nothing serious.”
“Something was in that fire,” Etarek said. “It’s just not natural.”
Sura gulped more water. Though it went into her mouth cold, it warmed as it traveled down her throat. Her stomach felt like she’d just drunk tea fresh off the stove.
Dravek sat beside her. “I have to go now, but I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Her eyes stung. “I’ll be fine. But what about—” She regarded his hands, wrapped in wet cloths. “Will Kara be safe?” she whispered.
He looked at Etarek and Elora, who caught the hint and stood up.
“I’ll go check on the others,” Elora said.
“I better make sure the drums aren’t damaged,” Etarek added.
In a moment, Sura and Dravek were alone, though surrounded by people who were trying not to watch them.
“We did that,” she told him. “We could have killed someone, maybe even destroyed the village.”
“But we didn’t. We made it go away. We saved everyone. That’s all they know.” He wiped one of his cloths over his face, which was pouring sweat. “We need to learn control. We just can’t learn it together.”
She shut her eyes, for the fire still pounded through her, wanting to join the heat radiating from his body. “Good night, Dravek.”
She heard him sigh as he stood.
“Goodbye,” he whispered, and turned away.
When his footsteps had faded, she opened her eyes to see Etarek approaching.
“Safe to touch you yet?” He offered a hand to help her up.
She grasped it and saw him wince, but he didn’t let go. She stood with him, watching the crowd gather around Dravek and Kara, following them to their h
ome with catcalls and hollers. Someone made a joke about the wisdom of lighting fires indoors.
Sura tugged Etarek’s hand before the impulse could fade. “Let’s go for a walk.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “See what happens.”
Etarek stared at her. “Are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?”
“You know I am.” She stepped backward, toward the dark edge of the clearing, dragging him along. “Let yourself hear what I’m feeling.”
“Wait.” He stopped.
“Is my hand burning you?”
“It feels good.” He drew her closer and placed her palm against his chest. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’m sure I like you.” She slid her other hand over his shoulder. “I’m sure I want you.”
None of that was a lie, or he would hear it if he tried. The bonfire’s flames had fanned her affection for him into something more urgent and needful.
Etarek’s hands glided over her waist. Her body responded, and her mind tried to lock away the memory of dancing with Dravek.
She lifted her chin, craving a kiss, but his gaze darted behind her into the woods.
“We should go back to my house,” he said.
“It’ll take too long.” She backed out of his embrace. “I want you now. On the ground.” She slid her hand across her muddy neck, reveling in his gaze. “I want to get you as dirty as I am.”
His eyes lit up, but he said, “We don’t have a blanket.”
“We’ll use our clothes.” She turned and ran. He would have to chase her now instead of talking. His footsteps followed close behind her.
Sura turned around a clump of undergrowth. Finding the space behind it empty, she reached back and untied her dress. By the time he joined her, she had it halfway over her head.
“Wait.” He pulled her dress down to cover her. “I have something to tell you.”
“Tell me later.” She tugged at his trousers. “And don’t worry, I’ve been taking wild carrot seed, so I can’t get pregnant.”
He gently removed her hands and held them in his own. “Perhaps you’d better sit.”
The trepidation in his voice cooled her flame-fueled desire. She sat—a little more heavily than she’d planned, due to the meloxa in her head and the confines of the dress. Etarek didn’t join her. She cursed herself for coming on too strong, though she hadn’t thought it possible with a Kalindon man.
“Forgive me.” Etarek paced in front of her. “I’d give anything to make love with you right now. But if I did, and then said this later, you’d think me a right bastard.” He crouched in front of her so she could see his face, however faint, in the distant torchlight. “Would you have my baby?”
Her jaw plummeted. In the next breath, she barked a laugh so loud the rest of Kalindos must have heard her.
Etarek’s face stayed solemn, which only made her laugh harder. She smacked his chest. “You are a right bastard.” She wiped her mouth into sobriety and took a deep breath. “Yes, Etarek,” she said in a low, serious voice. “I’d be honored to bear your child. In fact, why don’t we have four or five, in case we need a few spares?”
“Sura, I’m not joking.”
She kept laughing. “You must be, because if you weren’t, then—” She stopped and looked at him. “Then I would have to hit you much harder.”
He opened his arms. “Go ahead. Then think about what I asked.”
Sura shook her fist under his nose. “What game is this?”
“It’s not a game.” He took her hand. “My mother needs to become third phase so she can communicate instantaneously with Galen in Tiros. Only then will we be able to coordinate an attack on Asermos.”
Sura stared at him. “You’re serious.” She jerked her hand out of his. “Serious and insane.”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately this is a rational decision. Too rational, if you ask me.”
“The Council’s ordering you to become a father? They can’t do that.”
“It’s my decision. Sometimes we have to put aside our own desires to do what our people need.”
Her mind boggled at the idea, and part of her still expected him to confess it was a joke. “It’s your decision, but you won’t be the one pregnant. You won’t be the one raising a child in this horrible world.”
“I know you don’t want to end up like your mother, but I wouldn’t abandon you the way your father did.” His voice softened but maintained its urgency. “I’d do everything to help raise our son or daughter.”
“If I stay here, you mean. What if I go home?”
“It’s not safe to go home. It’ll never be safe until our people throw out the Descendants. As a third-phase Hawk, my mother could help that happen. My father Ladek’s a Bear—think what a warrior he’d be.” He gestured in the general direction of Asermos. “And if your mother entered the third phase, she’d be invincible. They wouldn’t be able to kill her with any weapon.”
“Don’t bring her into it,” she snapped. “Besides, they’d just let her die of thirst. Invincibility isn’t immortality.”
“But with her new strength and fighting ability, she might be able to escape from prison.”
Angry tears burned her eyes. “She wouldn’t want me to have a baby just to get power. It goes against the Spirits’ ways.”
“Maybe the Spirits want different things from us. They want our power.” He leaned closer so she could hear his whisper. “Without it, they’ll die.”
“But no pressure, right? Just the fate of the world resting on my womb. I won’t do it.” Sura turned her back on him but didn’t get up. The meloxa had made her head too sloshy for sudden movements. “Why me? Why not some other woman?”
He sighed behind her. “They all said no. They’re afraid their Spirits will punish them by perverting their second-phase powers.”
“They’re smart to have that fear. Why should I be any different?”
He moved in front of her and spoke in a low, calm voice. “Because you want to save Asermos. Maybe you want it enough to take the risk.”
She bristled at his implication. “I’m not just thinking of the danger to myself. I’m not even trained in the first phase of my Aspect. In the second phase I could accidentally destroy someone’s memory.”
He was silent for several moments, and Sura was relieved she’d found an argument to shut him up.
Then he snapped his fingers. “We could go to Tiros for you to train with their Snake, just like Dravek and Kara.”
Sura’s gut twisted at the thought of traveling with the newlyweds. But then she wouldn’t have to watch Dravek walk out of her life.
She put her face in her hands and dragged them over her scalp. She would not let her feelings for her Spirit-brother make her do something stupid.
“For that matter,” Etarek continued, “Tiros has a second-phase Deer. I haven’t had a mentor since mine died over a year ago.”
“Then you should go. But not with me.” She stood, focusing on her balance as she straightened. “I don’t want a baby now. It’s wrong for us and wrong for our Spirits.”
His gaze fell to the ground, and he nodded. “I’m sorry I upset you.” His hand moved as if to reach for hers, but then he dropped it before touching her. “Can I make it up to you with another dance?”
Sura thought about how being pressed against his body for several minutes might cloud her judgment. “No. I’m tired and drunk. I just want to go to sleep.”
“I’ll walk you home.” To her suspicious glance, he replied, “Just to your door.”
They skirted the bulk of the crowd and made their way down the main path toward the healer’s home. Sura thought how the entire evening had been one surreal event after another—the naked wedding, the exploding bonfire and now this outrageous proposal. She longed to end it on something simple and real.
When they reached the porch, Sura stood on the lowest stair to bring herself eye-to-eye with Etarek.
“Thank you for understanding,�
�� she said. “You’re not so bad, even if you are crazy.”
“Thank you, I think.” He placed a foot on the stair next to her. “Slap me if this sounds awful, but I’d like to see you again. Even without—”
She slapped him.
His eyes popped wide-open, and he put a hand to his cheek. “Never mind, then.”
“No, I feel better now.” Sura leaned forward and kissed him. He made a little noise in the back of his throat, and she pulled him into a deeper kiss, burying her hands in his long, soft hair. His arms slid around her back, slowly, almost cautiously, as if he were afraid she’d run away.
When the long, languid kiss was over, he smiled at her. “Good night.” He gave a graceful bow, then walked back toward the pitiful remains of the bonfire.
Beyond him, in one of those trees, Dravek and Kara were consummating their marriage. Even the lingering sweetness of Etarek’s kiss couldn’t stop Sura from wondering whose wrists were bound to the bed.
Sura awoke to heavy pounding that echoed and amplified the throbbing in her temples. With a continuous groan, she rolled out of bed and tottered into the kitchen.
Growing up in Asermos, she’d drunk her share of ale, and even once tried that horrid Ilion wine the occupiers were always pushing on the citizens to sedate them. But neither had kicked her in the head like this Kalindon meloxa. The fermented crab-apple drink’s hangover was as putrid as its taste.
Tereus sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. “You came home early last night, even for an Asermon. The party’s still on if you want to join in.”
She ran her dry, sticky tongue over the roof of her mouth. “I decline. Who was knocking?”
“Elora went to get it. Probably a patient.” His expression when he saw her face made her wonder which shade of green it was. “Sit. I’ll make you some tea.”
Elora appeared at the kitchen door. “Tereus.” Her voice was flat and frightened.
He stood immediately. “What’s wrong?”
Thera the Hawk brushed past Elora to come to him. “I’m afraid I have bad news.” She laid a hand on Tereus’s arm. “Rhia’s been captured.”
The Reawakened Page 16