I wondered what he’d confided in her when I’d been passed out.
“I don’t mean to frighten you, Amaia,” she said. “But you’re right to be cautious, even here.” Tarkosh rose from the table. “And don’t misunderstand me—I find it exceedingly fortunate to have an apprentice in Grymia with an ability such as yours, considering we lose a few hatchlings every year to sickness. Fairwarning, I will likely do everything in my power to convince you to stay beyond the exchange agreements.”
Surprise fluttered through me. But as flattering as it was, I couldn’t imagine leaving my family. Still, I understood what she was saying about the hatchlings. “I will help them, if I can,” I assured her. I added, “While I’m here.”
She nodded. Her gaze flicked to Syris when she said, “This doesn’t leave this table. Not even to Moak.”
“Of course, Tarkosh,” Syris whispered, as if aghast it needed to be said.
“Get some rest,” she told us both, walking toward the door. “We expect another hatching sometime in the night. I’ll wake you both when it begins.”
When she left, a heavy silence fell between me and Syris.
Then she said, “Eat some more. You need your strength.”
I captured her hand when she pushed the bowl closer. “You’ve been a good friend to me here, Syris,” I told her. “I just wanted you to know that. I didn’t mean to keep the truth from you. But I’m always so afraid of it.”
Understanding crossed her expression, compassion knitting her brows together. “Maybe you should consider what Tarkosh said. I would be so very happy if you decided to stay. Not just because of…” She glanced at the door, dropping her voice in an almost comical way. “What I know now. But because you really belong here. And I would miss you terribly.”
I smiled widely, even though it felt like my face would crack with it. My skin felt tight. “I would miss you too.”
But I can’t stay,I wanted to add. I decided to keep that to myself for now, even as an anxious dread settled into my belly. My sole purpose in being here was to observe…to spy. On people who were becoming dear friends.
It made my flesh feel like crawling. But with Ryak’s threat in my mind, I knew that I would always choose my family, if push came to shove. All Kiron had ever wanted was to be a guardsman.All his life, he’d watched them patrol Dothik in their uniforms and watched them train through the fences with wide eyes. He’d spent years in training, had worked for it through his blood and sweat and broken bones.
I wouldn’t be the reason he lost what he loved. It would break him.
And we were all still a little broken from when he’d left.
“I’d never seen theKarathlike this,” Syris whispered. I darted a look up at her from my stew, my spoon poised in midair. “When he brought you here a couple nights ago.”
“What was he like?” I asked, infinitely curious.
“Worried,” she said, finally settling on that word. “He’s… I don’t know what otherKarathsare like. But they’ve always felt so untouchable, almost godlike, to me. Like a beautiful statue you’re never allowed to go near. Alaryk feels that way, only more so because…well, there’s his ancestry. We always learned to fear the Hartans. And maybe that’s wrong for me to think, to fear him like we were trained to. But it’s always there.”
She sighed, giving me a half smile.
“But that night, he looked…like anyone could touch him. He was worried for you, Amaia. I was in your room, washing away the blood that was pouring from your nose, but I heard him speaking with Tarkosh in the hall. I couldn’t really make out what they were saying, but I did hear him tell Tarkosh to make sure you’re protected. Or else he would take you from here to do it himself.”
I swallowed. “He did?”
I remembered the heat of his hand on my back. The warmth of his magic. I thought back to that dark forest and wanted to shudder as nausea rose.
There was a strange intimacy in the bond of heartstone magic. I hadn’t realized it until Alaryk had showed it to me. I’d never experienced it before. But Ihadfelt him. And hehadbeen like a pillar to me, just as he told me he’d be. Someone to run to.
“Anyone could’ve touched him that night,” Syris finished softly. She peered at me. “But I think it was you who had touched him most of all.” She made a face. “That sounds silly. But I don’t know how else to explain it. What happened between you two?”
It’s complicated,I wanted to tell her. But I didn’t want to reveal the bargain I’d made with Alaryk, because it would only lead to more questions.
“He wasn’t himself that night,” I informed her. Then added, “I mean, I don’t know him well enough to say that, but…he helped guide my ability with his own. I’m sure it took a toll on him too.”
Understanding went through Syris. But then she looked worried. “You bonded your magic?”
“Yes.”
“Just be careful,” she told me. “Bonds are strange things. Scholars in Elysom dedicate theirs lives trying to understand them and have failed. Sometimes they can latch and hold, even if it’s unintentional.”
“What?” I whispered, frowning. “What does that mean?”
