"You need to let her…" Zya spoke again, drawing me out of my thoughts. She trailed off and I glanced over to find her chewing on her bottom lip, uncertain. There was something underlying her tone as well. I could hear it plainly in the difference between it and how she'd addressed me before. Concern. "Dante, you need to let her go."
I exhaled, virtually deflating. I hadn't been sure what her words were going to be but those hurt more than the ones she'd spoken before.
"I can't," I whispered.
"I know you care for her," she replied and it almost sounded like pity. "I know you even think you love her—"
"I do."
"When you love someone, you don't do that to them."
"What would you know about it?" I snapped, whirling to face her. "Didyouface ten deadly Trials? Didyouthrow yourself willingly to the emotionally and physically abusive gods? Didyoufind yourself in a position to make choices you never would have made to sacrifice yourself or another? It's easy to stand by and claim what choice you would have made. It's an entirely different thing to be put in the situation yourself."
She was glaring at me now, all traces of pity gone.
"No," she spoke calmly, coldly. "Iawoke one day with a black bar in the center of my forehead, chosen by your so-called abusive gods to serve them.Iwas taken from my friends and family, tossed into the pit myself, not by a partner I trusted, but by cruel fate.Ispent months trying to find a way back to the surface, knowing every day I probably wouldn't, and grieving every night for the life I'd lost.Itrudged across the desert with that girl because I believe in her far more than you ever did. AndIwill stand by her side when we retake the home you used to rule over us."
She advanced on me, drawing even closer, her eyes narrowed into a furious glare as her braids swung around her shoulders.
"You'll come to terms with all you've done, Dante of House Viper, or you'll burn the entire world and take us all with you," she threatened, shaking her head angrily. "But for the love of all the gods, leave her alone."
She pushed past me then, shoulder slamming into mine as she strode off toward the Underground boy as well, now gesticulating wildly at the culmination of his tale. I watched her go, an ache growing deep inside me that was getting harder to suppress. I thought I'd come to terms with the choices I'd made, with what I'd done to Adrian, but seeing her again had put it all into perspective for me.
I was broken. I always had been and maybe I always would be but something had fractured even more completely inside of me and I wasn't sure it could be mended. What I felt for the strong, powerful girl from the Third Ring wasn't going away any time soon, but maybe Zya was right. Maybe I had more to deal with on my own before I pulled Adrian back into it.
Someone barked a command over the crowd and we moved forward. Zya fell back to my side once again, waving goodbye to the boy from the Underground as he marched on with his warrior buddies. I marveled at the sight. I would neverunderstand the way some people seemed to make friends everywhere they went, liked instantly by everyone around them, but the boy seemed to have that gift. Even around stoic, hardened warriors trained all their lives to fight in a war against the gods, he seemed comfortable, well-liked, at home.
We made our way out of the palace as the king and Leo watched from a balcony above. The prince waved when he caught my eye. I responded with a nod of my own but then we were past the gates, leaving the royals behind and strolling through the human city's streets in near silence.
The men chatted amongst themselves but Zya didn't seem to have another word to say to me. I couldn't blame her. She seemed to be keeping her eyes set on Adrian and the general ahead of us anyway. The pair marched comfortably side by side, only speaking from time to time as the general kept his hand on the hilt of his sword and Adrian gazed about in wonder of her surroundings.
We reached the city gates soon enough. The general fell into conversation with the guards, showing them a slip of paper I assumed was our permission to leave, and then the gate was rolling open to reveal the sweltering desert. I saw the tents the moment we stepped through. Scattered a few hundred feet from the wall, a campsite dotted the barren wasteland. Several Zver prowled throughout the area, their riders nearby. I recognized one of them as the woman from Rainier's crew who'd spoken to me so long ago.
Rainier himself met Adrian and the general at the edge of camp. The three of them strode off to a nearby tent, already deep in conversation likely about all that had occurred within the city. The remaining warriors seemed to relax out of the presence of their commanding officer, slapping the backs of those who'd awaited them in the camp and smiling a bit easier now that they were back amongst their own as all soldiers did.
I watched them warily, wondering if I might find the same welcome here that I had in Pavos. Somehow, I doubted it. Enough of them were already glancing my way with a frown, displeased that I'd rejoined their party and not remained behind with the humans as the captain and the spy had. I couldn't disagree. I'd wanted to remain behind myself. But the king was convinced that something about me being near Adrian made her stronger. I wasn't sure if that was true but it looked like we would be tied together for the foreseeable future until we could prove him wrong.
Until we can figure out a way to erase the bond.
The thought came unbidden to my mind and I banished it just as quickly. I didn't need such dark words haunting my thoughts. I needed to keep my wits about me in this strange camp where I was an unwelcome Betrayer. No matter how useful I might prove to be in the war effort, I couldn't trust that any one of these men wouldn't take the first opportunity they got to plunge a knife in my back. I wouldn't be surprised to find the general himself to be the one to do it. Maybe that's what Ksenia had been trying to warn me about before I'd left.
"Dante," Zya snapped my name in a way that indicated it wasn't the first time she'd called for me.
I looked up to find her holding the flaps of a nearby tent open, brows raised and head cocked to the side in clear gesture. I followed her unspoken command and entered.
Two cots were set on either side of the deceptively large area. The sand between them was hardly disturbed, still windswept and smooth. Someone had set all this up and left it untouched while we were inside the city. I looked up to Zya who was unpacking her things on the far side of the tent, sitting on the creaking cot to remove her boots and pour the sand from them with a grimace. My gaze shifted to the nearest cot, the one on the left, only a few feet from me. I could guess who that belonged to.
"You share a tent?" I inquired, nodding in the direction of the empty cot.
Zya looked up from the boot she held aloft, following my gaze to the opposite side of the tent.
"Since we left the Underground," she told me.
"I would have thought the savior of our people would be given her own tent."
"She prefers not to be alone."
I frowned, my mockery dying on my tongue, as I caught a glimpse of the look Zya was giving me. Her jaw was tight, shoulders slumped. I nodded slowly.
