But when I met his eyes, I knew he wouldn’t stay.
“You once told me I could be a bridge between our two people,”he said. “If I wanted. I didn’t, then. I wanted to address the immediate problem, save the Ziz. But now—I know you. I know your friends, andmyfriends. I know your aunt. And I know how much our two people don’t trust each other. We don’t work together. You’re right—we need a bridge.”
I nodded. I couldn’t disagree.
He squeezed my hand. “You should be part of it. We need both of us, to span both our people.”
Maybe he was right. Bridges needed support on both sides. Maybe going to the wilderness, being Daziel’s betrothed, would be an incredible, empowering leap. Interspecies relations like no one had ever seen.
But it wasn’t what I wanted.
What I wanted was in a small room in a tower with light streaming in, filled with dust and ancient scrolls. I wanted to finish uncovering the secrets of Language X. We were so much closer now to being able to solve it, the phonetics uncovered, and so many words known from the rutter. The work fascinated me, made me feel alive. It might take months, years, to decipher the language, but we were on the right path. I wanted to be part of it, part of uncovering a forgotten language and all its secrets. I’d wanted it for years.
“I’m not ready,” I whispered. “I want to finish working on the scrolls. I’m not ready to just—be your betrothed.”
He was quiet a moment, thinking, and I waited in tense silence. Then he brushed the lightest kiss across my lips. “I understand,” he said, and his eyes glinted with gold. “I don’t want you to leave your life behind because of me, or your passion. I want us to make a new life together. We might both have to compromise on somethings—but not who we are. Why don’t I come back in two months? At the graduation festival. Over your summer break, we can visit your family, and mine, and you can see what you think of my world. But I’m not asking you to leave yours behind for it.”
Relief blossomed in my chest. This, I could do. Still, some of my trepidation lingered. His father alarmed me, and what did I know about a royal court? Let alone being the first human in who knew how long to enter the wilderness? “I’m scared,” I admitted. “I don’t know what it’ll be like.”
“I’ll help you.” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it. The sweetness of the gesture made tears spring to my eyes.
He leaned his forehead against mine. “And I want you to know…I know my lies, my trickery, hurt you. But whatyoudid…Your support lifted a world of weight away from me. I thought I was going to have to figure out everything on my own. Having your help, your drive, your determination—it was incredible.Youare incredible.”
Emotions welled up in me, complex and tangled and fierce. They made my chest expand so much it hurt, and tears weighed heavy behind my eyes. My words came out through a scratchy throat. “Now it sounds like you’re saying goodbye forever.”
“I’m not,” he vowed. “Only for two months.”
Before Daziel, I’d been so determined to stand on my own all the time. To be the oldest daughter, to be strong and independent. I hadn’t realized you could be those thingsandrely on someone else. I hadn’t realized how much joy a single other person could give you, how much laughter and comfort. I kissed him. “I’ll be here.”
When I fell asleep, I dreamed of the strangest hesitant cheep, like a newborn baby bird learning to sing.
~~~
In the morning, wewent downstairs to a lavish breakfast. Chopped fruits and yogurt layered with honeyed granola, fried cheese and eggs, sesame bread, lavender muffins. Croissants and coffee, of course. We fell upon them like starving animals, no matter that we’d done absolutely nothing yesterday, save rest and eat.
Aunt Tirtzah, Daziel’s father, and the Chief Judge of the Sanhedrin were there. Just a normal breakfast crew.
“Do we know anything about the—the hatchling?” I asked as we sat. It felt strange to call it “the Ziz” when it had just been an awkward baby, and when we had called its late predecessor the Ziz for so long.
“It was last sighted being carried by the mixed flock off the western coast,” Aunt Tirtzah said. “Since then, birds have returned to Ena-Cinnai. It’s being theorized they were on a death watch of sorts—for the old Ziz, but now they’re returning to their normal routines.”
“We’re leaving this evening,” Daziel’s father said. “Make sure you’re ready.”
I spent the rest of the day with Daziel, trying to be in the present and not feel like I was about to be abandoned. I even managed to shoo him off to say goodbye to his knockball friends for an hour. Only then did I let my shoulders slump. I stepped into the garden, hugging my arms around my waist and blinking back tears.
And I found Daziel’s father standing beneath a cherry tree.
Almost like he’d been waiting for this opportunity.
I told myself to be polite. I might not like him, but that wasbeside the point. If Daziel and I were going to have any kind of future, it would be best to get along with his dad. “Hello.”
He tilted his head. He was so like Daziel in his mannerisms, but I didn’t think they were anything alike in spirit. “So, Daziel wants you to come home with him.”
I managed a polite smile. I didn’t think he’d sought me out to offer a warm welcome.
“How charming,” he said lightly. “I never suspected Daziel would find humans so amusing.”
Irritation surged through me. “That’s a little patronizing.”
