A muscle in his jaw ticks. Then, in a low growl: “Yes.”
My chest tightens. But I lift my chin and press on. “Was it Mhoryga? Who sent you to kill me, I mean.”
“Yes.”
I nod. “Well.” Turning to face the bonfire again, I shift in my seat, trying to find a more comfortable position on the hard ground. “That’s certainly interesting.”
As though on cue, thunder growls overhead. The clouds, which have been thickly gathering all this while, open, and big fat droplets of rain spatter my blistered face and hands. It’s actually rather nice, cooling after that roasting flight.
Valtar pushes away from his tree. He stalks over to where I sit, his footsteps light, his cloak wafting behind him. For a few breaths, he looms over me as only Valtar can loom. He extends one hand. I look at it. Then slowly raise my gaze to his. His black eyes hold mine, even as raindrops slip through the dark coils of his hair and trail down his cheeks like tears.
“Fine.” I sigh heavily and roll my eyes. Slipping my hand into his, I let him pull me to my feet. My tired legs try to buckle, and I stagger toward him. Immediately, he puts out a supporting arm, and oh! How I long to lean into him, to feel the comfort of his big strong body!
Instead I pull back a step. I’m not going to forget who he is literally five seconds after he’s admitted it; even I am not that foolish!
To his credit, Valtar steps back, keeping his hands to himself. “Follow me,” he says, turning and leading the way. He makes for a copse of trees on the far side of the field. Their intertwined branches offer some shelter from the rain, which has now grown into a proper deluge. I peer out from under the thick green canopy through the gloom to where the dragon boy still burns. The hellfire flames are unaffected by rain. They lash and dance, as bright as ever.
I wrap my arms around my shivering body, trembling with more than cold. “All right, Valtar,” I say at last, painfully awareof how close he stands behind me. I turn slowly and look up at him without blinking. “I’m going to ask you some questions. And I want truthful answers. Do you understand?”
He inhales slowly. Then nods.
“No lying. Promise?”
Another nod.
“Good. Now first of all—are you going to kill me?”
His lips thin. He does not move, blink, or even seem to breathe. He might be a statue for all the life in him. Then, in a very low voice: “No.”
“Oh.” I blink fast and hastily dash water from my face with the back of my hand. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” I swallow hard, then: “But you were meant to kill me, correct?”
“I was.”
“Why didn’t you? You had…gods, I don’t even know how many chances! Why didn’t you just get it over with?”
Another long silence. Finally: “I meant to. But then…I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“Many reasons.”
“Name one.”
“You…” He pauses, and his gaze slips away from mine for an instant before returning. “You would not believe me.”
My eyes narrow. “Try me.”
He sighs then and rubs a hand down his face. “Maybe,” he says slowly, as though trying out the words in his head before speaking them, just to see how convincing they sound, “maybe it’s because I think you might prove to be the means of destroying Mhoryga after all. And I don’t want to be the reason hope is removed from this world.”
I stare at him. I stare so long, my eyes begin to hurt. I don’tthink he could have said anything more surprising if he tried…which in turn makes me suspect that he’s speaking the truth. That he really does believe this ridiculous, impossible thing.
“So,” I say slowly, “you want me to travel to Drathoridan after all. To enter the Dracor Flame, manifest, and…what? Have an all-out brawl with my mother? Just as Alderin proposed?”
Valtar shakes his head and looks away again, gazing across the field at the green bonfire. “I don’t think you would succeed. Not that way.”
“Then what doyoupropose?”
“I don’t know.”
