“I’m so grateful for your friendship.”
The words tug at my heart. “And I’m grateful for yours.” Then I close the door behind me.
When I return to the workshop, Jax is pulling the steel bolt from the forge. The end is glowing brightly, and he lays it against the anvil, then smacks it sharply with his hammer. Sweat gleams on his brow and threads his hair, but he’s intent, focused. As I watch, the end of the bolt flattens. He makes a notch with the sharp end of his hammer, and without missing a beat, he snaps it off. I’m transfixed.
Jax doesn’t glance up, but he says, “Tycho. You should sleep, too.”
“No. I need to relieve Mal and Sephran so they can get some rest. I’ll take sentry for a while.”
At that, he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Your arm is in a sling.”
“I can still use a sword.”Probably.
He gives me a look, then uses his pincers to heat the smaller piece. As it begins to glow, he says, “As soon as I’m done with these arrowheads, wait until you see what I do to your throwing knives.”
That makes me grin. I run a hand over the back of my neck. “Ah, Jax.”
I can’t tell if he blushes or if it’s just the heat from the forge, but I highly suspect it’s both. “Keep smiling like that and I’ll make you a whole armory.”
That nearly puts me over the edge, because I suddenly want to forget the queen exists so I can drag him into the house where we can share the bed.
“Go,” he says firmly. “I’m not the only one who needs to be useful.” He scowls. “And Mal and Seph probablydoneed a break.”
“Not yet,” I say, and his eyebrows go up. I reach out and run a finger across his jaw, then tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. Just as his eyes begin to soften, I let go. “I don’t meanthat,” I say, and he laughs under his breath. “But there’s something else I need to do first.”
The rain is keeping the worst of the heat away, but I’m soaked by the time I reach the barn, so I’m not a fan of the trade- off. Noah’s herbsseem to be wearing off, too, because my shoulder is on fire again. I ease through the heavy wooden doors.
Nakiis is exactly where we left him before, curled in a heap in the shadowed corner, but Igaa is nowhere to be seen. I sweep my eyes along the rafters, wondering if she took a higher spot, but she’s gone.
When I look back at Nakiis, his dark eyes have opened, watchingme. A cool breeze comes from nowhere to make me shiver. As I watch, ice forms on some of the posts near him.
He doesn’t move, but his shoulder muscles have gone taut, his clawed fingers flexed against the ground.
I wonder if he’s afraid.
After everything we’ve been through, that makes me a bit sad. But I suppose I can’t blame him.
I grab one of the milking stools and drag it close to him, though I stop about ten feet away because it’s clear he’s anxious. “Where’s Igaa?”
“Keeping watch,” he says.
“Is she going to come rip my throat out?” I say, and I’m only half kidding.
“No,” he says. “She expects that I will share my power with you.”
“Everyone expects that,” I say, and it’s true. It’s the basis for their entire plan to stop Xovaar. I think it’s the only reason the queen was willing to fall asleep. This plan has given her some vague sense of hope that we can protect her husband.
His eyes don’t leave mine. Outside, the rain pours down, trapping us in this cocoon of sound.
“But not you,” he finally says. “You do not expect this.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement. As if he already knows.
Because Idon’texpect this. He’s had many opportunities to share his power with me. Every time, he’s withdrawn. I don’t know what’s worse, whether it’s his fear of Xovaar or his fear of being trapped by a magesmith, but it doesn’t matter. Either way, his fear is an obstacle hecan’t overcome. Fear might control him, but I can’t let it control me anymore.
“No,” I say to him. “I don’t.”
“Yet you allow the others to have false hope?”
