Taking another large gulp of fire whiskey, Silla coughed. It burned her throat, her lungs, her stomach, but she was learning to appreciate this kind of discomfort—it was one she could control. One she was choosing.
“Come now, Axe Eyes. Have fun with me.” Her hand reached out, and she longed for him to grab it. To let down those stern barriers he kept in place. After a moment, it became clear he had no intention of joining her. “Fine,” Silla muttered. “I’ll play by myself.”
Spreading her arms wide, she looked up. Darkness had fallen, stars spattering the sliver of sky above. Curious plants unfurled moonlight-seeking tentacles from coves in the canyon’s walls, their luminescence making it feel as though she were inside her own constellation. Warmth and euphoria glimmered through her body, and for the first time in days, everything felt so…easy. Staring at the stars, Silla began to turn. Her smile spread wide, her body growing light as a feather.
“Round ‘n’ round ‘n’ round we go.” Laughter spilled from her lips, and for the barest moment, Silla was free. She was a bird soaring through the skies, ready to fly away from it all. Faster she spun, until the stars and strange, glowing plants blurred together, and the ground grew unsteady.
Without warning, the flask was pulled from her grip, an arm wrenching her to an abrupt stop. Her vision continued to spin, and it was a moment before she could make out Rey’s furious expression. “What did you say?” he demanded.
The walls of the canyon with its living stars swayed, her mind growing slippery. This was what she’d needed. To drown in nothingness. For the currents of the drink to pull her into their flow. “A game,” she whispered, leaning into his arm. “From a life long ago.”
Rey was strangely quiet, and Silla forced herself to look at him. Again, he stared at her scar, his pulse throbbing furiously.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Sometimes I think”—he shook his head—“you remind me of someone.”
A curious feeling filled Silla, as though she were trying to recall something important. But it was gone in an instant, and Silla found herself being eased onto a bedroll, tucked into an alcove in the canyon’s wall.
She lay back on the bed, trying to steady her whirling vision. “Who?” she asked.
Rey crouched before her, but it was difficult to make out his shadowed expression. “A girl who liked to play spinning games,” he said distantly. “But she’s long dead.”
“Too much spinning,” groaned Silla, putting a hand to her forehead.
“I told you to go easy.”
A large, warm hand skimmed around her back, bringing her into a sitting position. Head swimming, Silla blinked. A waterskin was pressed to her lips, cool water sliding down her throat. But it only seemed to agitate the fire in her stomach.
“I cannot feel anymore,” she whispered. “I wish only to forget.”
Rey let out a long sigh, lowering onto the bedroll beside hers. She wanted to curl into his warmth, to surrender and trust in his strength. “Forget for a moment,” said Rey wearily. “I’ll be here.”
Silla wanted to weep at his words. How long had it been since she’d been able to truly let go? Her eyes slid shut, and she fell deep into slumber.
Silla awoketo bright morning light and a throbbing skull. For one dizzying moment, she could not place her surroundings—the curving black stone overhead, the trickle of running water from somewhere nearby. The canyon, she remembered. She was tucked into the canyon’s alcove.
Sitting up, she found Rey, kneeling by the stream. Stripped down to a thin undertunic, his rolled sleeves revealed thick, muscled forearms and an expanse of tattooed coils. Transfixed, she watched him scrub his hands and forearms clean, before scooping water over his hair and neck.
A life long ago—the words echoed in her mind, memories of the night before coming back in a nauseating rush. The way he’d stared at her scar. The girl she reminded him of, long dead.
Pain pulsed in her skull as she tried to wrestle meaning into these details. Hot, restless panic exasperated her hangover. Everything hurt, her mind swam, and all she could think of was how the one person who’d discovered her true name had taken less than a day to betray her.
Now, she tried to reassure herself—Rey didn’t know who she was; it was only a queasy feeling brought on by the brennsa. But what if he did? Or what if he figured it out? Silla’s fingers found the patch of short, spiky hair left by Kommandor Valf’s blade.
Can’t,she thought, the decision growing more solid with each heartbeat.Can’t go back.
In that moment, Silla made herself a vow. She would never allow another to know her true name. She would hold it so tightly she strangled it from this world.
And no matter what it took, she would never end up in the Klaernar’s cells again.
Chapter Two
Rey’s long exhale misted the air, his body swaying with Horse as she trudged through the canyon. The bright morning sunlight slanted between the black walls, warming his face. Soon they’d reach the canyon’s end, climb back into the forest, and be another step closer to Istré.
Though his memory was fuzzy, Rey recalled a few villages along their route and had decided to stop at the first one. He must send a falcon to Vig and Runný in Kalasgarde, and Silla needed better attire than his oversized tunic and breeches.
Gaze falling on Silla’s messy curls, Rey battled the urge to twist a tendril around his finger and pull it taut. His teeth clenched together.
