With the doors of the ship open, soon the desert beasts might move in. Or perhaps raiders would come and strip it down, sell the metal that made up its every part. The other Wanderers in Cade’s army had been taken care of, sent to Deadwood to die.
The ship with the flaming bird on its belly was a threat no more.
Sonara had found her answers, not inside of it, as she’d thought she would. But in the heart of the planet itself.
Soahm was gone.
Sonara knew that now.
But pieces of him still remained. They resided in Karr, with his heart that beat as strong as the heat from the desert suns overhead. And in the leather journal Sonara kept in her duster pocket, heavy as it thumped against her hip with each beat of Duran’s hooves against the sand.
Soahm lived on in her name, the one he’d come up with. And in the spirit of Duran, who Soahm had given her the gift of claiming, long ago, on a storming Soreian day.
And then there was Soahm’s amulet. That was gone, too, though Sonara didn’t truly feel as if she’d lost it. For when she’d lain wounded beside the planet’s heart… she’d noticed a hole in the side. Another piece of it, cut out ages ago. It matched the shape of the amulet that sat upon her chest, hanging from a golden chain around her neck.
Soahm’s amulet.
She’d pressed it in, the answer too simple, that act itself feeling like a dream.
But it had worked. The heart sank, receding into the earth, carrying the two pieces of itself with it. The sword and the amulet,both with their own stones. A bit of darkness had kissed Sonara’s skin, healing her bullet wound… and giving her an extension on her second life.
A gift, perhaps, for returning Soahm’s amulet to the heart.
Sonara had never known the full story of the amulet, only that it had been passed down from generation to generation, and started with the original Soreian queen. A young woman that had been kind and generous and strangely gifted in healing.
Sonara suspected now thatshewas Eona’s daughter. That perhaps Eona had taken a piece of the planet’s heart herself, and given it to her daughter to protect her, long ago.
The original Shadowblood. The chosen one, who’d balanced precariously between the realms of darkness and light. Not fully good, just like all Shadowbloods were. Perhaps Eona was just bad enough to steal a sliver of the heart she’d given all of herself to protect, and passed it on to her daughter.
Somehow, it had ended up right where it started again. It had saved Dohrsar, when the heart became whole. Some part of Sonara could still feel the heart’s presence, deep beneath the planet’s surface. It would always be there, alongside the mighty golden sword. Keeping Dohrsar safe.
“How long will you be mad at me for trying to steal the heart?” a voice asked beside Sonara. “You know I can’t resist a prize.”
Sonara glanced to her other side, where Azariah rode upon the back of a pale mare, glorious in the morning sun. Behind her, his arms around her middle, sat Markam.
“Not much longer,” Azariah said.
Markam frowned. He wore his hat on his head, his duster soaring behind him.
“And I swear, Markam,” Azariah said. “If you don’t stop asking, I’m going to melt the eyebrows right off your face.”
Their new respect for each other—perhaps even a mended relationship—was strange, and not what Sonara would have picked for a partnership. But somehow it worked, for the princess had a storm in her very veins. It would serve her well, if she were to spend her life once again loving the Trickster. Perhaps she’d never stopped loving him at all.
“We’re nearly there,” Azariah said. “Look.”
She pointed.
And in the distance, beyond the looming statues of the great desert felines, the walls of Stonegrave awaited.
Her voice drowned out as a great screech sounded overhead. Sonara looked up, sensing the presence of Razor before she saw the mighty wyvern soar past, wings flapping in the hot wind.
Razor banked, landing before them, and Sonara smiled at the rider perched on the beast’s back. It had taken a great deal of selflessness for Markam to allow Jaxon to borrow the wyvern.
That… and perhaps a small bit of coin.
“What is it, Jax?” Sonara asked.
He smiled as he stopped and removed his hat. A hat Sonara had kept safe for him, while he was prisoner to the Wanderer ship.
