“I think they are as tired of this war as we are. Their general practically admitted to knowing that the Aethari spread lies about us. They know we don't kill magic. Without that lie, they have no reason to fight us.”
“As if they need a reason.”
“The Aethari will probably protest, but if we show them our strength, I think they'll see that it's less costly to end the war. But this will take time. I will gather information here that will hopefully help the other armies take more fortresses. Then we can bargain from a position of power.”
Ankeh stared at him for a few long seconds. “Very well. I trust your judgment and Source above all. But I want a report on Lena Drask as soon as you've cataloged her capabilities. You say she's integral to our cause, but I want to know how.”
“Yes, sir. I'll vid you as soon as I have an update.”
Ankeh nodded and cut the feed.
Vor closed the vidco and stood up. His calm was a facade, and it was crumbling. He needed to get to Lena. Now.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lena
Lena sat on the couch, her knees bent, feet on the cushions, and arms around her legs. The inside of her chest was a spinning mass of anxiety. She couldn't see the exchange of prisoners, but something big must have happened because she'd heard shouting. Then the Nethren had returned and questioned Vor about something he'd done.
And he had blamed her for it.
Not only had Vor declared that Lena was the reason he could do whatever feat he had accomplished, but he promised them she would help them do it as well. What was going on? And why did those Nethren soldiers want her to sing for them? Had the whole fortress heard her sing? Lena hadn't thought she'd been loud enough for her song to carry so far. Something shivered over her skin, and Lena had the oddest sense that Source—she didn't know which one—had carried her voice to as many people as it could. Anxiety flowed out of her.
The outer lock clicked, and Lena shot to her feet. “Vor?”
“Yes, it's me. Unlock the door, Lena.”
“One moment.” She went to the door and unlocked it with shaking hands. She waited a few seconds, and when nothing happened, she opened the door.
Vor stood there looking as unsteady as she felt. Instead of pushing past her, he waited. Realizing she was blocking him, Lena moved aside, and Vor came in, quickly shutting the door behind him and locking it. Then he went to the couch and fell upon the cushions.
“Vor? I couldn't see you past the wall. What happened out there?”
“That is indeed the question everyone wants answered, Lena.” Vor looked up at her.
Lena hesitated halfway to him. Vor's hands, spread over his thighs, were shaking. When he saw where she was looking, he clenched his hands into fists. What was this? Was he scared?
Warily, she sat down in the chair beside the couch. “Something happened, and you blamed me. Why?”
“I credited you,” he corrected.
“Vor, what happened?”
Vor stared at Lena for a few long seconds and then looked down at his metal hand. “A miracle.”
Lena leaned back. Monsters didn't get miracles. Or maybe they did—from Technology. But what kind of miracle would Vor credit to her? It wouldn't be from Tech. If it had been, he wouldn't be so unnerved. Strangely enough, the most unnerving thing for Lena was how her stomach clenched in rebellion when she thought the word “monsters.”
Vor wasn't a monster. Not at all like the heartless living machines she'd been raised to fear. He was a man like any other. The only difference was his metal flesh. Well, and his inability to feel the more tender emotions. Nethren couldn't love. And yet, he behaved as a man who was . . .
No! Lena wouldn't allow herself to believe that Vor was falling in love with her. That was a dangerous deception—a lie that could lead to her destruction. It couldn't be true. Vor had disproved a lot of things Lena had believed about Nethren, but not that one. He confirmed they didn't feel things like Medeans.
Confirmed it, and swore that Lean was changing it—changing him. She'd seen him feel regret and jealousy. Were those softer emotions? Certainly, monsters wouldn't feel regret. Jealousy, perhaps, but not guilt. Maybe Vor was changing. Or maybe it was merely his imagination. Was that why he was crediting her with his miracle? He wanted to believe that she could make him feel something he wasn't born to feel. Vor wanted it so badly that he gave her credit for something she hadn't done.
“It would have gone smoothly,” he whispered.
Yanked out of her thoughts, Lena refocused on Vor. “But?”
“That suitor of yours was there. Rallorival.”
