“Not in all these years have I seen a bond going to or from the Sar Dyeus. Not until yesterday. Not until you.”
“What would bonding with him accomplish, exactly?” I snatch my hand from his wrist, and he sits back on his heels, giving me some space.
“When you bond, you share power. What’s yours is his, and what’s his, is yours. Once bonded, you’ll be able to remove the god power he stole. When it’s returned to the gods, the balance of our world should restore as well.”
“No more sudden deaths.”
He shakes his head slowly. “No more.”
I chew on the edge of my thumbnail. If it will save Ninon, there’s no question, none whatsoever, on whether I’d do it. And yet, a thought churns in the back of my head. This unshakable sense of self-preservation that my mother always called selfishness. And perhaps it is. “Will I have tostay bonded to him? Once I’ve removed the god power?” I cannot tie myself to that man for my life. I’d kill him before I endured that fate.
“A bond can be broken at will.”
I nod, squeezing my hands together. “How is it done?”
“As with most things, it’s easier said than done. And there’s much we’ll need to do before we get to that.”
“The deaths in Nevoba have become more frequent.” What I really mean to say is, do we have the time to do what is necessary? Before it’s too late?
“It’s been the same here.” His gaze strays to look out the windows surrounding us before focusing back on me. I feel like I can’t get enough air into my lungs. Ninon is at risk and every day that passes could be her last. I realize he’s waiting for me to say something. He’s waiting for my answer.
I look him in the eye. “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes.” And I will do it quickly, because I don’t have another choice.
CHAPTER TEN
THE SUN IS settling into late afternoon by the time Ozias leads me out of the Alcazar. Most people we pass smile at him. Occasionally, they acknowledge him with a wave or a cursory bow, but most go on with their daily tasks. No one pauses in what they’re doing to bow before his presence. No one stops and remains silent as he passes. He is no king here, but there is an admirable amount of respect. The farther we walk from what appears to be the Realm’s main hub of activity, the thinner the trees and the fewer number of people there are. The land begins to look more and more like the Sere I’m familiar with. Scrubby trees replace the lush. Dry, cracked earth replaces the rich brown soil. Eventually the rise of the mountains appear as we reach an open swath of ground. A small gathering of people clusters around a group of children. My steps falter at the vaporous cloud emanating from the center of the cluster; asuccession of others follow.
“They’re…shifting,” I realize out loud.
Ozias smiles. “Come and see what’s possible.”
As we draw nearer, a familiar figure stands out from the crowd. Her spine is as straight as her long auburn hair tied at the nape of her neck. I’d know her anywhere. I wanted her to be here. I thought she was here, but seeing her in the flesh makes everything that’s happened until now feel unreal; she is the only thing that makes sense. The figure turns and my heart lurches as a half dozen small dragons lift into the air behind her.
“Ninon,” I whisper, taking a half step before dashing toward her.
Ninon meets me with sure, fast steps and she doesn’t stop until she has me in her arms. I pull her to me and grip her tight. Her hold is steady and familiar. I don’t stand a chance of holding it together. I crack, my face crumpling, an aching sob heaving out of my chest.
“You left me,” I wheeze, the words warbled and horrible. I want to take them back into me. I don’t want to blame her or make her feel like she’s done wrong.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, holding me tighter. “I had to.”
I’m nodding, over and over again. I know it as well as I know I couldn’t bear a child for Alixor, but there’s still so much I don’t understand.
Ninon pulls back and glances over my shoulder. I follow her gaze to where Ozias is walking away. A dragon flies low overhead, banks around him, then flies back to the center of the ring where they transform into small child, no older than seven years. She shakes out her hair, spinning on her toes and smiling. I suck in a breath. A girl. She bears no mark on her torso, though I suppose if she was born here, away from the Sar Dyeus, there’d be no reason why she would. The other dragons transform back into their human forms, a mix of all ages and genders. Ninon links her arm through mine and pulls me a little farther from where the people are gathered.
I turn my attention back to her and a sudden rush ofanger heats my blood. Did she know this about the Realm? That the savagery was a lie? That children, young girls like we once were, could transform into these horrible, magnificent creatures. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“By the time I knew enough about this place and knew I would leave home, Kalixta was pregnant. I didn’t want to make you choose.” She pauses, her shoulders tensing beside mine. “I didn’t want you to try to make me stay.”
My anger spits hot like grease. I bite my tongue and hum my understanding. I fear what I’ll say if I open my mouth.
Ninon waits, watching as the girl speaks animatedly, arms and hands flying around. “This upsets you.”
“Of course it does,” I snap, but pin her arm against me to keep her from pulling away. “You didn’t give me the option to decide because you didn’t tell me.”
Ninon unwinds her arm to stand in front of me and places her forehead against mine. “I know. I thought…I believed I was doing the right thing. But then you ended up here anyway, and Ozias told me what happened to you.” She leans back to look in my eyes, her hands gripping my upper arms. “I caused you more trouble in the end.”
Sighing, I bring my hands up to cup her elbows. “You gave me what I needed to stop Alixor. You couldn’t have known it would have ended up like that, but I’m glad you thought it was a possibility.” I heave another sigh, trying to diminish the fire raging inside, and pull her in for another embrace. We stand there for a time, simply holding one another. In many ways my life has been wrought with disappointment and change and choices that weren’t my own, and through it all, Ninon has remained my only constant. Until now. It feels like something has cracked between us. Not unmendable, but certainly changed.
