He smiled. “It’s strange to think that you don’t have a god to judge your actions. To pass down edicts.”
My shoulders lifted. “The sky is something far beyond my understanding. If something must judge, or dictate—to me, that seems little more than a powerful man, doesn’t it?” My eyes strayed dangerously close to the carriage with Calix in it.
“Maybe,” he said, and his eyes followed mine.
I drew in a deep breath. My head was throbbing; my whole body ached from retching so often.
“You’re in pain?” he asked, turning toward me a little.
“Just my head,” I told him. “As thrilling as it must seem, voiding my stomach every other time I eat isn’t very pleasant.”
“And here I was so jealous,” he said, brushing my hair off my face. His hand settled on my shoulder, reaching under my braid to rub my neck.
“Oh,” I murmured, leaning into his touch, ignoring the danger of his skin on mine because of the relief it brought me. “Keep doing that. That helps.”
“When we were in Trizala,” he said, taking advantage of the closeness to speak quietly to me, “and you said your power is triggered by something—what is it?”
He was so close, and the others had drifted back. Whether it was his hand on my neck or the words or what they called up inside me, warmth rushed through my skin. “That’s not fair,” I told him. “Bargaining a neck rub for information.”
His big hand was warm, spanning over my neck and softening my muscles. “I’m quite ruthless.”
My eyes met his for a tantalizing second before I pulled away, and losing his hand on my neck seemed to shoot nausea to my stomach. “I can’t, Galen. Not here, not ever.”
He sighed, but stepped closer and resumed gently rubbing my skin. “Why?”
“You said we can’t talk about it.”
“No one can hear,” he whispered. Without moving much, I saw Zeph and Kairos laughing, almost five paces back, and no one else near us. “Every day I think about the haunting things you say. That you’ve been imagining things between us. That something—something we did or said or felt in that cave triggers what you can do. What is it, Shalia?”
Anger bubbled up inside me, and I pulled away again, turning to face him. “No, Galen. You can’t do this. We can’t do this. And you already know—or you suspect, at least,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down. “You want to hear me say that I care about you? Will that make it easier when I have your brother’s child? When he ceases to honor the fact that I don’t want him to touch me? Will that help?”
Galen looked stunned. Then he looked away, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it. I looked over my shoulder and caught Kairos’s watchful gaze, but kept walking. “Wait,” Galen said. “There are many, many things in what you just said. Your power is triggered by l—” He stopped, and didn’t say that word. “Caring? About people?”
I nodded.
“When I returned home from the south and met you in the courtyard, the stones fell apart into sand. Was that you?”
My face burned with heat. I nodded.
“It happened almost the moment I kissed your hand,” he said.
I had hoped he would never put that together. “Galen,” I said, shaking my head in warning. It wasn’t wise to think about that, much less discuss it.
He looked ahead, a strange expression on his handsome face, his chest rising and falling faster than was merited by our walk. “And he hasn’t—he hasn’t touched you?” His eyes slid to me at this, running over me like a physical touch.
I crossed my arms. “I thought my guards reported to you.”
Color bloomed on his cheeks. “Not about that.”
“No,” I said, looking down. “Not since he struck me.”
He nodded. “That’s a good reason.”
Chewing my lip for a moment, I hesitated to add, “There are many reasons.”
He looked to me in question.
“I just can’t stand the thought of him touching me,” I whispered. “Not after … Trizala.”
“He took that surprisingly well,” Galen said.
I shrugged my shoulders. “He wanted a baby, and now he has one. Besides, he’s trying to prove to me that he actually cares about me.” I shook my head. “I don’t believe him.”
I couldn’t look at him, even though I felt his eyes on me. “I can’t imagine anyone not caring for you,” he told me in a soft, gentle murmur.
I tried to laugh, but it didn’t quite come out that way.
“Here,” he said, passing me water. “You should drink more.”
I nodded, taking a sip. I passed it back to him, rubbing my own neck.
He watched my hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, soft. “I shouldn’t have brought any of this up.”
“No,” I told him with a sigh. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I feel like my whole life, I’m desperately trying to hide who I am. And with you, I think you just see it. Or it seems that way.” His shoulder lifted. “I can’t help myself.”
I nodded. “I wish it were different. You deserve to have someone who sees you.”
“You do too,” he said. “You deserve someone who loves you.”
Pulling my coat tighter, I looked at the ground and walked a little faster.
We didn’t make the desert by nightfall. We stopped at Vestai Atalo’s castle, and he and his wife made a great fuss over me, saying their bedroom with the stars in the ceiling must have given us a child so soon.
We returned to the room with the bathing chamber, and Calix ordered the servants to draw a bath for me. When I slipped into the water, he ordered them out. “May I come in?” Calix asked from the doorway.
I looked at him. He was watching my body through the water, and I felt exposed. “Calix,” I murmured, covering myself, looking away from him.
“I just want to talk. Is that all right?” he asked.
I considered for a moment, then nodded.
He came in, sitting beside the bath. “Do you remember the first night we spent here?” he asked.
I nodded again.
“You washed my feet for me,” he said. “No one had done something so simple and selfless like that for me in a very long time. I never wanted to love you, Shalia, not after everything with Amandana. But that night, I started to care for you.”
I stared at the surface of the water.
“I did an awful thing to you, Shalia. But I did it because I thought you were just like her. I thought you were deceiving me. But it occurs to me, we haven’t had much opportunity for the truth between us.”
My eyes shifted over to him, surprised. “No,” I agreed.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he asked, meeting my gaze. “Confess to me?”
I hugged my knees in the water. He couldn’t possibly know, could he? I had so many secrets, but no—I couldn’t trust him with any of them. “No, Calix,” I said softly. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Danae took a sorcerer to the lake,” he said. “They still couldn’t find it. I need to know if you will support me damaging the lake—draining it, or blasting around it to find what’s hidden.”
I frowned. “If you find some indication that the elixir is there, we can discuss the means to retrieve it. But damaging the lake isn’t just about the elixir—it’s the water reserve for the desert,” I told him. “That would be incredibly dangerous for the clans.”
He heaved out a heavy sigh, but he nodded. “Maybe we can come up with a way around that. Alternative water stores, or something.”
I reached for his hand. “We’ll figure it out. But, Calix, what if it’s not there? What if you can’t find it, and you have no way to defend yourself against the Elementae?”
His face pinched into a deep scowl. “We have to keep looking for it.”
“But if you can’t find it, Calix. What then?”
“This feels like a trick, wife. If we can’t find the elixir,
we need to start eliminating this threat before it grows more powerful. But I don’t think that’s what you want me to say.”
“Perhaps you should consider protecting them,” I told him. “Working with them. Rather than try so hard to eradicate them, consider how they might benefit your reign. It would remove all the power the Resistance has. It would defend us. It would achieve peace without death.”
He stood, shaking his head. “That defies everything I believe, wife. Have you forgotten one of them will kill me?”
“Maybe because you try to eradicate them,” I told him. “And you have an heir now—it seems the prophecy is far more complicated than you believe. I just … I want you to consider it.”
He paced in the room, shaking his head as he went, and I felt fear gather within me. Then he stopped abruptly. “You don’t believe in the God,” he told me, staring at me. “That’s the real problem here. You’ve never believed in the God, so you will never see me as his vessel, his voice, his arm. You put all your faith in the desert, in their way of thinking. But tomorrow you’ll see—you aren’t one of them anymore, wife. You’re mine. This is where you belong. This is the only loyalty.”
Stunned silent, I stared at him, my mouth open but still.
“Rest,” he snapped. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
We left the next morning, and I was dressed in my new, more modest clothing. Even Calix decided against the carriage and opted for a horse instead, and we rode proudly. Much of the army had gone on ahead, and as we neared the land bridge preceding the pass, we saw them lining the road.
I frowned. “Why aren’t they in Jitra?” I asked Calix.
He glanced at them. “The same reason as always. Clans don’t allow soldiers in Jitra. They can go into the pass and to the southern edge of the city, but not inside. Your family is very proud, very strong. And the desert is difficult to breach when they are fortressed inside. Which is, of course, why peace between us was so necessary.” His eyes flicked to me. “But I don’t want to spoil the day.”
“You needn’t lie about wanting peace. I know all you wanted was the elixir.”
Turning my head to look at him, his gaze was sharp and assessing. “Yes,” he said. “But you are hardly one to criticize me for being calculating.”
“Calculating?” I repeated. “How so?”
There was something raw in his eyes. “I gave you a chance last night, to explain. I know you’ve been communicating with your family. Asking them to hide you from me—to steal you from me.”
I shook my head. Had he discovered Kairos’s plans? “Calix, I never asked them—”
But he continued. “And then you even admit that you don’t believe in my greatest cause. You don’t want to find the elixir. You want me to welcome those sorcerers into my kingdom.”
“Calix, stop,” I said. “Please. I’m not leaving you, and I didn’t say those things last night to upset you. It was just an idea. Please, I don’t want to fight about this today.”
He drew a breath, looking forward, and slowly let it out. “Finding that elixir—eradicating the sorcerers—is the most important thing, wife. More important than anything else.”
We were nearing the land bridge, and I could see the mouth of the pass ahead. “I know, Calix. I—” I started, but I stopped. Just within the pass, I saw my mother and father, my father standing tall with a torch in his hand, waiting for us. My mother pressed against his side, and even from here, it looked like she was crying happily at the sight of me. My tall brothers beamed, and Catryn was struggling to hold Gavan from running forward.
My breath caught. “How did they …?” I asked.
Calix looked at me. “I had my soldiers tell them we were arriving, if they wanted to greet you here.”
Filled with joy and gratitude, I smiled at him. “Thank you, Calix. Truly,” I told him, and I dismounted.
I saw soldiers, maybe ten or so, walking out, walking away from my family.
I noticed a yellow powder on a man’s boots as he jogged past me.
Gavan distracted me, though, breaking free from Catryn to run ahead.
Galen came from behind us, hard faced and riding forward to the entrance to the pass.
A moment before Galen got there, I saw Calix smile, a dark, evil expression.
And then the world exploded.
He Knows
I was on the ground. My head was ringing, but I didn’t feel any pain. I struggled to my feet, and someone touched me. Kairos. His mouth was moving.
Shalia. Shalia. I saw him mouth my name. “Shalia!” he yelled.
Shaking my head, I nodded. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” I said, turning sharply. We couldn’t see anything but a thick reddish cloud of dust and ash.
I couldn’t think of anything else. We ran forward, and my feet were strong and sure, even as my head was foggy and thick.
My feet will never fail me.
I saw Galen first. His horse was writhing on the ground, and he had been thrown. Galen was groaning and starting to move, and I didn’t wait to see if he was all right. I didn’t care.
The boy’s arm was the next thing I saw. It was at a strange angle, a layer of dirt on it, and stretched out like he was reaching for me still. Like all he wanted was to get to me.
Before I knew what I was doing, I slid to my knees and pushed the rock off his small body with my power, and it rushed away from him. “Gav?” I whispered. I pulled his body to me, and it was leaden and still. His back was covered with blood, misshapen where the big rock had hit him. I turned him over and pulled him against me. “Gavan!” I yelled. “Gavan!”
He didn’t move. His face was scraped and bloody, his nose broken. His eyes were open, but they couldn’t see me.
“I’ll find the others,” Galen said.
I hadn’t known he was near me, and just as soon, he disappeared into the dust.
The others.
I wiped desperately at the dirt on Gavan’s face, trying to pull it off. There was too much of it, and my hands were trembling. Why wasn’t he moving? Why couldn’t he just move?
“Gavan!” I cried, shaking him.
“Shalia!” Kairos yelled. “Someone could still be alive!”
Alive. Gavan was dead. I knew that, but—but—
I stood, feeling sick and dizzy, pushing forward into the cloud that shrouded my family.
I saw Kairos, crouched and throwing rocks off a small body. I saw her hair. “Catryn!” I screamed.
Kairos looked up at me. “Find the others!” he said, his eyes wild, his chest heaving.
Nodding, I ran into the smoke.
Galen was pushing a large boulder that was near the start of the pass. All around me, I felt the threads, angry and pulsing, curling around my fingertips and squeezing. I pushed the boulder off with my power like it was a pebble, sending it flying into the crevasse under the land bridge, and Galen turned and looked at me for a moment before dashing in. As soon as I could see the rocks, I moved them out of my way, and in moments, we had uncovered a tangled mass of bodies: my father, my brothers, my whole family.
I dove forward, but Galen shook his head at me, going to each one and carefully checking them.
When he reached the last one, he closed his eyes for a moment, and picked up my mother’s body.
“What are you doing!” Kairos roared, trying to climb over rocks to get to him. “Don’t touch her! Don’t you touch her!”
Galen stood tall with her broken body in his arms. “She’s dead, Kairos. Let me get your family out of here.”
She’s dead.
Galen took a step, and the movement suddenly seemed sideways to me, twisted wrong.
I am a daughter of the desert.
The world took a vicious spin, and then Kairos’s arms were around me. “Shalia!” he yelled. “Shalia!”
Something hurt. I am a daughter of the desert, and my feet will never fail me.
Lightning crashed somewhere around us, and the moment froze, the light illuminating the d
ust in a distended vision. In the flash I saw Catryn, the moment she had been born. I had been the first to hold her, secreted away in the caves below Jitra, where the fires were stoked high to fill the cave with heat and smoke so the spirits of our ancestors could walk among us and greet the baby. I brought Catryn, the tiny thing who hadn’t cried yet, to my mother.
When we touched, the three women of our clan, I felt something. Something otherworldly and powerful, filling my body. Filling the space.
And then the flash of light ended, and the smoke was full of nothing but the dead.
“Kairos, help me up,” I said, but something was wrong. My arms weren’t moving. The words sounded foreign and misshapen, even to my ears. Everything was wrong. The threads around me felt like they were strangling me, bloated thick and grotesque, tugging the world at odd angles.
There was pain. My power was turning on me, clawing at my throat, wrapping around my hips, and causing a deep ache that made me cry out.
“Shalia, you’re bleeding,” Kairos told me, and his eyes were stark, wide open and wet.
Bleeding? No. No—they were bleeding. They had stopped bleeding, because without a beating heart they would never bleed again.
I am a daughter of the desert, and my feet will never fail me. I couldn’t feel Kai’s hands on me. I felt weightless, ungrounded, like I couldn’t tell the sky from the stones.
“Shalia!” he screamed at me, and my heart burst at the terror plain on his face.
The threads pulsed, rippling with anger, with hurt, with fury. The pulse came into my hands, touched my fingertips, and pushed.
My power ripped out of me. It felt like retching, like my body was fighting my mind for control and my mind was losing badly. I saw rocks, from pebbles to boulders, rising up into the air and beginning to swirl around me.
I felt the ground beneath my feet, and I tried desperately to focus. Kairos wasn’t touching me anymore. He was on the ground, his hands curled around his face. Dirt was thickening the curtain of moving rock, responding to me, waiting patiently for my command.
I gave my mind over to my power. I rushed out along the rocks, along the land bridge, along the pass. It wasn’t as simple as seeing, but where the rocks and dust existed, I could feel. The pass was blocked by rocks, but not gone completely. The mountains still stood.
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