“What?” Vi was taken aback by his sudden quiet.
“This wasn’t about the sword, or the world. It wasn’t about dealing a blow to an organization that threatens your family. This was about her.”
“It was about the sword,” Vi insisted.
“No, you wanted to save Zira.” He took a step forward, raising a finger and pointing at her. “You wanted to save her, because youalwayswant to save her.”
“And is that so terrible?” Vi met him step for step. “What’s so awful about not wanting to see a little girl grow up without her mother?”
“Because you can’t save Zira.” Taavin shook his head sadly. “And you can’t save Fiera, either.”
It was an arrow that fired straight and true, landing right through her heart. Vi staggered back. She grabbed her chest, clawing at the physical ache there.
“You don’t know that,” she whispered.
“Their deaths are stones in the river.”
Vi shook her head, as though she could shake off his words. She couldn’t—they’d burned her. His words singed her chest, making her feel hot all over, like her bones had become cinder. “No,” she said softly.
“Vi, listen to—”
“You listen.” She brought her eyes back to him. “I saved my father when the world presumed him dead. I saved him from Adela. I had a vision of Zira dying today, and she yet lives. I am the one who is to change fate and save this whole, damned world. Do not tell me I can’t save two women.”
“It doesn’t work that way.” The pity in his eyes was the worst part.
“Have I ever saved her before?” Vi volleyed back to him. He narrowed his eyes. “Has Zira ever survived the wedding before?”
“No,” Taavin reluctantly admitted.
“Then you don’t know.” Hope was a wave crashing down on her, extinguishing the blaze that had nearly consumed her. “You don’t know, because this is new.”
“I have ninety-two other histories that guide my wisdom.”
“But you don’tknow.”
“I know there are some things that, no matter how hard you try, don’t change.”
“Then I will try harder,” Vi insisted.
“I grant you that you’ve kept Zira alive longer than ever before. But Yargen will come for her life, as she will Fiera’s. Perhaps the assassin that came in the night ten attempts ago will return once more, looking for the sword—”
“Then I will have guards posted at her door.”
“Two attempts ago she was involved in a skirmish with the Knights while patrolling the city and was cut down.”
“Then I will do the patrols,” Vi continued to counter. “Rather than tell me what I can’t do, help me accomplish what I can. Help me find all these avenues to spare her by telling me how she’s died before.”
“Or she dies at the hands of a thief who gets the jump on her while she’s sleeping along the road during one of her trips, long after you’ve left her side.” Vi narrowed her eyes slightly and balled her hands into fists. Before she could say anything again, Taavin continued. “And if you save Fiera from one death, she’s murdered in equally horrible ways. Or falls victim to an accident no one could prevent.”
She stared up at him, searching for a lie in his words. But Taavin’s eyes were stony clones of their usual warm selves, cold and unfeeling. The backs of her eyes prickled, though Vi couldn’t quite explain why. She hadn’t felt like crying in months. Why now?
It wasn’t that she knew Fierathatwell. Certainly, she’d come to love the Empress in an unexpected but not entirely surprising way. And the woman did have her undeniable aura that made people willing to follow her to the ends of the earth.
But this feeling was more than that.
This was her stomach flipping upside down until her throat knotted. It was her eyes burning and her breaths becoming shallow. This feeling was worse than staring down Adela, or Ulvarth… perhaps even worse than burning Taavin alive.
“Why?” Vi whispered. “Why would Yargen do this?”
