Irie frowned. “How do you know that name? Empyrean, have you—”
“If you guys would justtalkto me, I wouldn’t have to”—Faron withered slightly under Irie’s harsh gaze, the golden flame of Irie’s pupilless eyes communicating her anger better than any words—“research all this. My sister’s in danger, and you won’t help me. So I’m trying to help myself. Is that so wrong?”
“Thiswillhelp you,” said Mala. “Don’t you see what dragonshave done to this world? Their power is so vast that only someone with equal divine magic can actually end them. Only you. We gave you our magic for exactly this, and some sacrifices need to be made—”
Anger won out in Faron’s vortex of emotion, spiking through her. “Mysisteris a Rider. You keep asking me to kill my sister for you. Because it’s whatyouwant. What about whatIwant?”
“Empyrean—”
“No! All you ever do, all any of you ever do, is take and take and take from me, and the one time I ask you for something—”
“Besides the incredible divine power that you waste on childish races,” said Irie.
“—you refuse to help me and then ask me to give youmore? Elara is more than just my sister. She’s the best person I know. She’s my hero.She’sthe saint. Any time I’ve ever needed her, she’s been there for me. She gave up herdreamsfor me. And I can’t—” Faron realized, to her horror, that she had started to cry. “I—I need to do this for her. What’s the point of all this power if I can’t help the one person who needs it the most?”
“Youprayed to us to help San Irie win the war. Your prayer was the first we heard when we entered this plane, and your strength enabled you to channel our magic,” Mala said. “We are gods, Empyrean, and the Iryans are our people. Because of us, they are suffering, and they will only continue to suffer until the dragons are gone. Unlike you, we don’t have the luxury of prioritizing one person over all the rest.”
“If I’m only the Empyrean because you heard mefirst, pick a new one,” Faron snapped. “Because I won’t kill my sister to saveanyone.”
Irie looked even more tired. “We’ve seen this level of arrogance only once before. It is tragic, how much you sound like the Gray Saint.”
How is it arrogance to want to save my family?Faron wanted to scream.What else are you keeping from me?
But the room was a blurry swirl of greenery through the curtain of her tears, and she couldn’tbreathein here anymore.
“You don’t stop being the chosen one just because the war is over,” said Obie, and the rare sound of his voice ensured that those blunt words chased her from the room. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can move past this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ELARA
WHAT IFITRIED SPEAKING TO HIM?” SIGNEY ASKED AS THEYwalked through the market.
It was almost the weekend, almost time for their next meeting with the commander, and Signey had caught Elara after class with an invitation to see the open-air market on Margon Island.We need to properly celebrate your incendio win, Signey had said, unaware of the goose bumps left behind by her touch and the fluttering in Elara’s chest incited by her words.
Signey made her feel as if she’d never seen a girl before, let alone dated one, but she refused to act on her infatuation. There were many beautiful girls in the world. Signey was not special in that regard. If Elara had feelings for her, it had to be a result of the bond, a result of the potential to know each other better than anyone else could. She remembered her breakup with Cherry, the awkwardness it had added to their friendship for a few months afterward. She couldn’t imagine how much worse that would be with their bond, feeling each other’s heartbreak when it slipped past their walls.
It wasn’t worth it. This wasn’t why she was here.
At least she had the comfort of the market to distract her. Like the ones in San Irie, the market was stuffed with vendors behind their stalls, shopkeepers in front of their doors, and sellers balancing baskets on their heads, all yelling at people to come buy. Unlike the ones in San Irie, this one was vast and chaotic. Instead of being restricted to a single square, it spilled down every alleyway and side street. Children raced through the crowds with light feet and sticky hands. Instead of bananas and guinep, there were roasted chestnuts and hazelnuts, cod and herring, cherries and parsnips.
“I’m talking about Gael,” Signey continued, pulling Elara back to the present. “Maybe he’ll be honest with a member of the family.”
Elara had underestimated her co-Rider’s emotional state. Signey had patiently listened to Elara’s theories without emotion and then proposed that Faronshouldreach out to Gael for more information. Her opinion had only gotten stronger after Elara had related the news of Faron’s disastrous meeting with the gods, and, though Elara wasn’thappythat Faron was communicating with a former tyrant, she supposed she did the same every weekend when they went to see the commander. Faron would be careful—and Reeve was there if she forgot to be. She had to trust them both.
Elara paused to stare at a small pyramid of cherries, wondering if they tasted different from the ones back home. “Well, if Gael Soto is anything like you, he won’t be honest at all.”
Beside her, Signey rolled her eyes. Her hair was loose today, softly curled beneath a dragon horn hairpiece. “Is this about Jesper again?”
“He’s your older brother,” Elara said, “and he deserves the chance to look out for you.”
“Spoken like an eldest sibling.”
Elara shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Itdoesmean you’re biased.” Signey grabbed her arm as she was about to walk away. Her Firstrider took a coin purse out of the pocket of her breeches and counted out enough money for a bag of cherries. She handed the bag to Elara and kept walking. “It’s egotistical to assume I need his protection because I’m younger.”
But Elara wasn’t listening. Her eyes were on the bag of cherries, a red so dark they were almost black, the bag that she wouldn’t have been able to buy because she’d realized a second too late that she didn’t have any Langlish money. And Signey had bought it for her, casually, without a word exchanged between them.
