“Because I need you to save Ravence,” she said.
“And I need you to save Seshar,” he said.
Silence descended upon them, heavy with the weight of truth. They regarded one another, stunned by each other’s honesty, wary of the secrets they still held. Finally, Samson found the strength to break the stillness.
“Elena,” he said, his voice a plea.
She met his gaze.
“I’m tired of fighting you,” he said.
“Me too,” she whispered.
“So fight with me,” he said. Blue flames fanned from his fingers, wrapping around his wrists like bracelets. Like shackles. “Tell me how I can make things right.”
Elena turned away, and he made no further move to persuade her. The choice was hers and hers alone. He wanted her to know that. Their alliance could be either a blessing or a death sentence, but she would decideits outcome. It had taken dying in her arms for him to understand that he could not force Elena to do anything; that her friendship, her Agni, came only when she could control it.
Freedom for Ravence, freedom for Seshar, was one and the same. It was the same azadi. The word sent a shiver through him. It was a song his soul ached for. The song he wished for all his countrymen to sing. Azadi, azadi, azadi.
Finally, Elena answered, her voice tired and quiet. “First we go home. We see to our people. Then we go to the council and make our demands.”
You must face Farin and kill him.
He hesitated. Elena turned to him, and he thought,But I must avenge the dead.
“Are you with me?”
Flames licked down her fingers, and he met Elena’s gaze over the fiery light of their inferno: red and blue, fire and water, the desert and the sea.
He could do both. Seek vengeance and peace. Bring freedom and horror.
He grasped her hands, his flames lacing around her wrists, joining them.
“I’m with you,” he said.
CHAPTER 37
ELENA
The destruction of the Five Desert Wars between Ravence and Jantar became so great that the council finally moved into action. The Treaty of Borders is perhaps its greatest achievement, second only to its execution of the traitorous Karven king. The treaty states no ruler shall invade another’s borders without consequence. But King Harrow of Jantar shrewdly found a loophole. Seshar was not a kingdom. It had no such protection. So Seshar fell, thanks to the shrewdness of a king and the cowardice of others.
—from chapter 43 ofThe Great History of Sayon
With trembling hands, Elena loosened her scarf. Faded bruises braided her neck, though the ointment had lessened the pain, and the operation had bleached the color.
“It will disappear in two days,” the medic said.
Elena touched the skin where, the day before, the medic had used a laser to lighten the marks. Now she skinned an aloe vera leaf and scooped out the gel. Elena watched as she ground dry sage and lionweed, thenmixed it with the aloe and topped it off with fresh lavender buds. The sounds soothed her. Elena closed her eyes, drifting, when she felt hands at her throat.
“No—” she gasped.
The medic stopped. She gave a soft, understanding smile and gently placed the jar in Elena’s hands.
“Apply it twice a day, for the next three days,” she said.
Elena nodded, weariness creeping into her bones. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to startle like that.”
The medic drew a slow breath. “Make him pay for it.”
