Into the Black

by Ava Jae

  But today, with the words slipping from Jarek’s lips, they only bring me sadness.

  “You’re going to betray him for me?”

  Jarek bites his lip. “I’ve already betrayed him by coming here. But I’m not … I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for Elja. And for him. If you can’t save him, I don’t believe anyone can. But I want to try, and the only way I can think of is to have you back in Elja. As Avra.”

  I snort. “As if my brother would ever let that happen. He’d have me arrested the moment he saw me.”

  “He wouldn’t be able to. When he became Avra, he made me head of the guard. I’ll keep you protected.”

  I frown. “If you’re head of the guard, why did you allow him to arrest those protesters?”

  He sighs and runs his fingers over his beard. “Undermining your brother publicly is very different from privately not allowing him to do something.”

  It’s true. But here’s the truth he isn’t saying: going back to Elja means leaving Eros when he needs me most. It means turning away from my closest friend and hoping he can handle the pressure of politics, of a world full of poison foreign to him. It’s hoping he can learn everything he needs to learn to navigate the realm of royals and political alliances—something most royals spend their entire lives preparing for—in a matter of sets, and hoping he can do it on his own.

  Or, maybe not on his own. Deimos is here—and as Avra-kaï d’A’Sharo, he’s been just as prepared as I was. But can I trust Deimos to take care of Eros and teach him everything he’ll need? Can I trust him not to turn his back on Eros if things don’t progress the way we hope—if his family pressures him to support Lejv instead?

  The truth is I don’t know. Deimos seems trustworthy enough, and he’s been more helpful and supportive than I ever would have expected of any Sepharon kaï, but I don’t know him like I do Eros.

  But I also don’t have much choice. Not really. Not because of my brother, who doesn’t come close to earning my turning away from Eros again. But my people deserve better than Dima’s violent rule. I failed them once already, and I’ll never forgive myself if my territory crumbles while I stood by and did nothing to try to stop it.

  “I need to talk to Eros,” I finally say. “But I’ll go with you, Jarek. Today.”

  Deimos and Eros are laughing with Mal when I enter the room, and I almost feel guilty for the dark cloud I’m bringing in with me. Their laughter dies away as Eros and Deimos look at me, and Eros stands, his smile slipping off his lips.

  “What happened?” he asks. “Why is Jarek here? Are you okay?”

  I sigh. “I’m fine. I need to go to Elja.” The protest is on Eros’s lips in an instant—I raise my hand. “Before you say anything, let me explain, first.”

  “But—”

  Deimos grabs Eros’s wrist and pulls him back, forcing him to sit on the edge of his bed beside Mal. “Let her explain.” He looks at me. “Go ahead.”

  And so I do.

  When I’m finished, neither Eros nor Deimos speak. Eros has his head in his hands, tension gathered in his tightened shoulders. But it’s Mal who is the first to speak. “So, you have to go back to Elja to save your brother.”

  I nod. “And, with Kala’s grace, to save my territory. I owe my people that much.”

  “Your brother tried to blazing kill you.” Eros stands, his voice shaking. “He framed you for attempted murder.”

  “Eros—” Deimos starts, but Eros steps forward.

  “And even if you don’t care about that—even if you don’t care how he nearly cost you your life on more than one occasion, he blazing locked me in a dungeon and tortured me for six kafran sets. And now you’re going back there because he can’t handle the situation he made himself? Are you serious?”

  I frown. “This isn’t just a matter of not being able to handle a bad situation, Eros, this is his life, and more importantly, my people—”

  “It was your life, too, but he didn’t care about that when he was trying to take your place as Avra.”

  I close my eyes and inhale deeply. “I know.”

  “Then why in the Void would you ever go back?”

  “Because he’s my brother,” I snap. “And failed Avra or not, I am responsible for my people. You would have done the same for yours—in fact, you’re here right now at least partially for them.”

  Eros scowls. “My people aside, my brother never tried to actually kill me.”

  “And if he had? Would you turn your back if his life was at risk? If he needed you, despite everything he’d done? Can you truly say you’d forget about him when he needed you most?”

  “He would deserve it,” Eros mumbles.

  “Sha, he would. And Dima does deserve my turning away. He deserves to die, and he deserves to watch the territory he lusted after fall apart because of his foolishness. But my people don’t deserve to suffer at his hand—and deserving or not, I won’t leave my brother to die.”

  The following silence is so thick it’s suffocating. Eros stares at the floor, Deimos grimaces at Eros, and Mal glances awkwardly between them, and then squints at me and says, “So when are you leaving?”

  “Immediately,” I answer. “I just wanted to talk to Eros first and … well, I don’t have a lot of belongings here.”

  “Mal and I will take a walk.” Deimos stands. “Give you two some … privacy.” Deimos rests his hand on Mal’s shoulder, and moments later, Eros and I are alone.

  “He tried to kill you twice, you know,” Eros says flatly.

  I blink. “What?”

  “Framing you was the second time. The first was the assassin who broke into your room while I was guarding you.”

  “How do you …” The truth is, I’d suspected as much already—but hearing Eros confirm it aches deeply. “Are you sure?”

  Eros hesitates, then nods. “The Remnant leader, Rani, said Dima hired them to send an assassin after you. The pale man was one of them. Dima paid them with credits, weaponry, and tech.”

  I close my eyes and take a shaky breath before opening them again. “Okay,” I say softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Eros opens and closes his mouth. He pauses, like he’s considering something, then shakes his head. “But you’re still leaving.”

  “I don’t have a choice. I’m not leaving my brother to die and my people to suffer.”

  “But you’re leaving me to figure this out by myself.” He looks at me. “Again.”

  “Eros—”

  He stands. “Forget it, Kora. You want to leave, leave. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  I cross the space between us and hold his arms. “It’s not like that, Eros. I’m not leaving because I want to, I’m leaving because I have a responsibility to my people. I couldn’t live with myself if I left Dima to a probable execution.”

  He bites his lip and doesn’t look at me.

  I hesitate. I don’t want to say the words, I don’t want to acknowledge the reality of the distance spreading between us. It hurts too much to know I’m likely at fault and leaving will make it worse. But pretending not to see it won’t help anyone, either. “And … it’s not like it’s been the same between us, anyway, has it?”

  Eros’s shoulders slump. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do.” My eyes sting as reality wells up inside me. As the feelings I’ve been trying to ignore spill over my lips. “Just … be honest with me. You don’t trust me anymore, do you?”

  When Eros looks at me, the pain in his gold eyes twists into me like a wound. He takes a shaky breath. “You betrayed me.”

  I swallow my instinctual denial. When I kissed him and then pulled away to court Serek, I hadn’t meant it as a betrayal. I was scared and trying to protect him by drawing attention away from him, and though I knew my feelings for Eros, I hadn’t thought it’d ever be possible to pursue them. I’d thought walking away was best for us both.

  I was wrong. But I can’t undo what I did. And I can’t ask Eros to forget my acti
ons and trust me like he once did.

  “I understand.” My voice aches with restrained tears. “I’m sorry.”

  He bites his lip. “I know.”

  I inhale deeply. “We’ve changed, which is natural given everything but … maybe we were never meant to be more than …” My throat goes tight. I drop my hands and take a shaky breath. “I think you feel it, too.”

  “I don’t know what I feel anymore,” Eros says softly. “I’m exhausted and terrified all the time, and I don’t know what I’m doing or how you expect me to navigate this without your help.”

  “You have Deimos,” I answer. “We’re both still getting to know him but … I think he’s genuine. He truly intends to help you however he can.”

  Eros purses his lips but eventually nods. “I think so, too.”

  “He’s just as equipped to help you with this as I am. Maybe even more so—I was never the best at the charismatic side of things …”

  He laughs weakly. “Understatement.”

  “Your faith in me is inspiring.”

  Eros smiles weakly and touches my cheek. His warmth is a bonfire on a cold night—I want nothing more than to press myself against him and let him hold me for eternity. So when he kisses me, I don’t pull away. I close my eyes and taste his soft lips, the warmth of his body, the sorrow of this slow kiss, which isn’t starting something new, but ending what we had.

  When he pulls away with shining eyes, it’s clear he knows it, too.

  “We won’t be able to have a romantic relationship if I’m Avra again and you’re Sira,” I say. “It’s strictly forbidden for a Sira to be with any Avra because it’d upset the balance of the territories. As Sira, you can never appear partial to any one territory or monarch. It’s … it’s essential to the peace of the nations.”

  Eros forces a smile, but the pain is evident on his face. I shouldn’t—not now, maybe not ever again—but I kiss him again, quickly, just one last good-bye.

  “I’ll always love you,” I whisper on his lips. “But I want you to find happiness without me. I want you to succeed in everything you do. You’ll always have my support, Eros, but this—” My voice catches. I have to finish; I can’t leave without closing this door. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. “This is good-bye.” I take his hand and trace the oath scar on it. “I release you freely from your oath. You served me well, Eros, but it’s time you become your own man, now, free from any bonds or promises. When I see you again … it’ll probably be political.”

  His shoulders and jaw are tight when he nods. His voice is hoarse, hurting, when he says, “I wish you all the luck in the stars, Kora. Take back your territory and show that kafran brother of yours what a real Avra looks like.”

  I smile and step away. “Thank you, Eros. You are truly my dearest friend.”

  And I walk away with Eros’s gaze on my back and my heart bleeding into my lungs.

  “Ej, Eros. Eros. Wake up.”

  Part of me wants to punch Deimos for shaking me awake when I’ve finally—finally—fallen asleep, but most of me is too tired to open my eyes, let alone lift my fist and aim it at his teeth. How long have I slept? It couldn’t have been long. It was mostly another thrilling night of staring at the ceiling.

  Stars, I’m so tired.

  “I know you’re awake. Your breathing changed two mos ago.”

  “Then maybe you should take the hint and leave,” I say. “You know how difficult it’s been for me to sleep.”

  Deimos sighs. “Shae, and I do feel badly, especially given how relaxed you looked, but the Council called a meeting and we needed to be heading over some time ago.”

  I groan and force my eyes open. Sit up, try to rub the sleep from my eyes. Mal is still fast asleep next to me—star-shined kid can sleep through anything, I swear.

  “Do you have pants on, or do you need me to grab you some?”

  “You really think I sleep naked when sharing a bed with my nephew?” I deadpan.

  “Good point.”

  I shake my head and roll out of bed. Walk into the washroom, but hesitate in front of the sink; before the whole torture thing, I’d splash cold water on my face to help wake me up, but … better not. I’m not really up for risking another panic attack. I wet a fuzzy blanket and pat my face down instead, then run the damp cloth over my hair for good measure. It’ll have to do.

  I sigh at my reflection—the water is drying and sweat drips down my back. The suns haven’t even risen yet and it’s already hot as the stars. And here I thought it might be a little cooler up north. Not that we’re really north as far as Safara is concerned, but we’re still north of Elja. But evidently not enough not to broil to death inside.

  Back in my room, Deimos has picked out some clothes for me. “Just get changed quickly. We need to—are you wearing the ring of Sirae?”

  I blink. Glance at my hand. “Oh, shae. Kora gave it back a few sets ago. I put it on again after she left.” Putting the ring on again had felt more purposeful this time around. The first time I’d slid it on my finger, under the waning light of the four moons, I didn’t know what it meant. I knew it’d been held for me, but I hadn’t recognized it as anything more than a nice, probably valuable ring.

  This time, when I put it on, I knew the history behind the ring—that every Sira up until my father wore it and passed it down to his firstborn son. I was next in line; though Lejv and others, I’m sure, would like to take it from me, the ring of Sirae is mine.

  Deimos arches an eyebrow. “What was Kora doing with the ring of Sirae?”

  “I’m guessing she got it from Serek, who got it from me. I guess Asha left it for me when I was born.”

  “Huh. It suits you.” He smiles, but only briefly, then hesitates. “I’ve been meaning to ask … is it night terrors that keep you awake?”

  I sigh. Look away. Stare at the wall. “I don’t know. I guess. It’s memories, mostly—of being tortured, and my family dying in front of me, and wondering if they’d still be alive if I just—if I’d gotten there faster or—”

  “Hold on.” Deimos lifts his hand and closes the distances between us, gripping my arms and looking into my eyes. “You’re referring to the nanite attack, shae? You know that wasn’t your fault, don’t you?”

  I bite my lip. He means that, there’s an intense earnestness in his eyes. It’s hard to look at, so I glance at the swirled, tooth-like markings on his left shoulder, instead. They almost look like mine, except, you know, lighter and easier to see.

  “Eros.”

  I sigh, though my throat is tight and painful. “I-I know. But maybe if I’d gotten there faster—”

  “Naï.” His voice is firm, demanding. I meet his gaze again. “You can’t do that. You can’t torture yourself with what ifs you’ll never be able to change. Nothing about what happened was your fault.”

  I close my stinging eyes and take a shaky breath before I lose it. But he’s—he’s right. I know he’s right. It’s not going to be easy to stop asking what if but … it wasn’t my fault.

  It wasn’t my fault.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, opening my eyes again. “I guess I … needed to hear that.”

  Deimos smiles weakly, releases my arms, and pats my back. “I’m glad to help. If you ever need to talk, don’t hesitate to let me know, shae? I’m here for you.”

  I smile weakly. It’s nice of him to offer—I haven’t had someone to turn to like that since Nol and Esta died. I don’t know that I’ll take him up on it, but it’s good to know anyway. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Deimos smiles and nods to the door. “We do need to go, though.”

  A couple mos later, we’re walking into the banquet hall, where pastries, breads, fruit, and warm orange melos—a sweet, thick dish that’s not quite solid, not quite liquid and apparently a common morning dish in Ona—have been set out. The Council isn’t here yet, but most of the royals have arrived and are picking at the food. I’m not hungry, but Deimos passes me a thick stone cup with a steaming, fr
othy white drink inside.

  “To help you wake up,” he says quietly. “It’s good, trust me.”

  I sip it—it’s sweet and spicy and traces a hot path all the way down to my stomach. The warmth would feel better on a cold day, but it tastes good, and after a few sips, I’m actually more awake.

  “Do I want to know what this is?” I ask.

  Deimos snickers. “It’s nothing bad. It’s a popular Sephari drink called ljnte. I practically grew up on this stuff.”

  “Good to know,” I mumble, taking another sip. The drink is making my head buzz a little, but not in a sluggish can’t-think way like with brew. It makes keeping my eyes open and not daydreaming about sleep easier—like alertness in a cup.

  I may have to drink this stuff more often.

  “Ora’denja.” Aleija and Jule sit next to me, filling their own cups with ljnte as Jule serves herself a bowl of melos.

  “Denna,” Deimos says cheerily. “Excited to see all our bright and shining faces this morning before the suns rise?”

  Aleija laughs. “Oh, sha—bright and shining is exactly how I’d describe everyone right now.”

  “Well I’m feeling bright and shiny,” Deimos says. “Although that might be my second cup of ljnte talking.”

  Aleija laughs again and even I can’t help a smile. Kora’s right—he’s ridiculously good at the charismatic, social part of royal life.

  Aleija looks at me. “I heard Kora left last night with an Eljan soldier—is that true?”

  I glance at Deimos and he nods. “It is,” I say. “Though she went voluntarily, not because the soldier forced her to.”

  “Interesting,” she says. “Do you anticipate her return?”

  I resist the urge to frown and sip my ljnte. “Naï.”

  “Ah. Shame, she seemed like quite an asset.”

  “She had pressing matters in Elja to take care of,” I answer. “Loyalty to her territory first, and all of that.”