The South Wind’s grimace pulls the skin of his cheeks taut. “More than I have at the moment, I’m afraid.”
Despair drags at me. I stand firm. I will not allow myself to flounder.
“The beast likely hasn’t gone far if it intends to use Prince Balior for protection,” Notus says. “I’ll go search for it. Meanwhile, we needto evacuate the city. It would be safest to head for Mirash. We’ll need sailers, as many as can be spared. And horses. Do you think the palace could spare some of their mounts?”
Too easily, the uncertainty engulfs me. But I press a palm to my heart. I calm the child within myself. I assure her I am strong, that I will look after her in all ways.Safe, I think.You are safe.
“Amir would know,” I tell him. “I need to find him. If—” No. I will not considerwhat-ifs.
“Then we’ll find him,” Notus says, “and Tuleen.” His eyes blaze into mine with unswerving promise. “We’ll make sure that they’re safe.”
Yes. Ammara’s king and queen must survive. The future of the realm depends on it. “What of the darkwalkers?” I ask, voice low.
Notus stares at a point over my shoulder. A hot wind grazes the backs of my knees. Beneath the spreading darkness, shadow begins to blot Ishmah’s lower ring. From this distance, those fleeing are as small as ants, bursting through the city gates, crossing the dunes on foot or by horse. The perfect meal for any darkwalkers roaming the desert.
“We can’t kill them all,” Notus says. “There are simply too many.”
From the frequency of the screams, many will not escape with their lives. I watch a handful of citizens succumb to the creatures’ soul-sucking kiss. Their bodies collapse in the sand. Seconds later, the ashes of their desiccated forms scatter in the wind. Never have I felt so helpless as I do now, watching my people fall. I am mortal, and I am weak. It is a bitter truth. “Can you call the Lord—your brother—back?”
Notus shakes his head with obvious frustration. “Eurus has no loyalty toward me, nor I toward him. I’m amazed he answered my call to begin with.”
“What of your other brothers?”
“There’s no time. It would take days, weeks, for a message to reach them. I doubt they would heed my call for help anyway. We were never close.” A frown folds his brow, the baked skin around his eyes deeply furrowed, like cracks running through hardened clay. “We’ll head to the palace—”
“It would be more efficient if we split up,” I cut in.
“You’re joking.”
“You keep the darkwalkers at bay,” I say. “Search for the beast if you can. I’ll head to the palace to search for Amir and Tuleen.” And Roshar, though the man has likely already fled the capital, his precious Zarqan in tow.
The South Wind stares at me as though I have suggested we strip naked in the middle of a red storm. “We’re not splitting up. Wherever we go, we go together.”
“Wemust,” I urge. “You can’t quell Prince Balior’s army or the darkwalkers if you’re busy protecting me.”
“I also can’t fight them while worrying about whether you’re dead in an alley somewhere,” he growls through his teeth.
I breathe out hard through my nostrils. I’m not getting through to him. The South Wind, as stubborn as they come. “I hear what you’re saying, Notus, but there’s no time.”
He shifts onto his heels, then forward, agitation forcing movement into his body. Sand begins to swirl around his legs. “We’ll head to the palace. Once we find Amir and Tuleen, we’ll return to the g—”
“You’re not listening to me,” I snap, and my voice fractures, crumbling to bits. “I can’t face the darkwalkers. You know I’m useless in a fight.” The violin may have granted me an advantage in the labyrinth, but it’s gone now. It provided music, not miracles. “It won’t be for long—”
“I can’t lose you again!” he snarls. Then he looses a breath, and his shoulders slump, the fight going out of him. “Not again,” he murmurs.
Death has dogged my heels my entire life. I am well acquainted with its mind-numbing fear. It is unfair, butlifeis unfair. This is what must be done. If we are to save Ammara, then we must part, only for a short while.
Reaching out, I gather his wide, strong body into my arms and pull him close. He’s trembling.
“You won’t,” I whisper against his cheek. “I won’t allow it.”
It is easy as breathing, to part his lips with my own, gift him love and reassurance in this wordless form. Our bodies slot together liketiles in a mosaic. The strength of his arms encircles me: a hardened exterior armoring a soft heart.
When we separate, I lift a hand to his cheek, my eyes wet. We have come far, he and I. It is something I did not believe was possible. But I am no wounded girl. He is no exiled god. We belong to one another. We have built our own home.
“Clear a path toward the palace,” I command. “I’ll find you when I’m done.”
Notus frames my face in his warm, roughened hands. “I love you,” he says. “Do you trust me?”
