“I don’t want it, this magic, thiscurse.” My fingers curl into fists, my breaths growing shorter. “I won’t hurt the people I... care about.”
Her hands reach for mine, a cool warmth settling upon them and flowing up through my arms. Connected, I can see infinite realms through her eyes, and suddenly, my narrow viewpoint seems puny in comparison. Worlds upon worlds spin in dizzying circles, countless lives in their cosmic orbit.
“The stars have spoken, Starkeeper. A war to end all wars is upon you. Those who summon the old gods invoke Fero’s power in blood sacrifice. He will be reborn from the void and wreak his vengeance.” A hint of a smile graces her lips. “Is that plain enough for you, my willful child?”
I resent that, resent her. Her body shimmers as if it is about to dissipate. I grasp the weightless hands that had been resting upon mine, but they have already begun to vanish. “No,wait. How is Fero going to be reborn?”
But within seconds, she is gone, and only Roshan remains in her place, wearing a quizzical expression, his face inches from mine and worried. Aran is seated on the couch, his face just as concerned.
“Where were you?” Roshan asks urgently, though he keeps his hands at his sides. “You were in some kind of trance. Did you have a vision again?”
“Yes.” I swallow, my throat painfully dry. A chill scuttles over my skin, my emotions roiling as I try to make sense of Vena’s words. It isn’t like the last time at all, not when a ruthless god is prophesied to be reborn and that a war worse than anything is coming.
“Was it the crone?”
“Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply, a sob clogging in my throat.
He doesn’t press the matter, but the curiosity is more than obvious in his eyes. Curiosity tempered by understanding and edged by a healthy amount of wariness. To be fair, it’s not unfounded, but I still hate the way he looks at me as if I am some feral creature to be leery of, like Javed’s captive azdaha.
Aran is looking at me, too, though his expression borders on morbid fascination. There’s understanding in their eyes, but there’s something else as well. Something that Roshan hides away quickly beneath a forced smile once he catches my teary gaze.
Something that looks a lot like fear.
Chapter Fifteen
My clothing is splattered in ash and soot, but it’s the most grounded I’ve felt in days. Working in the forge is calming. Centering. Safe. Other than Amma’s kitchen, there is no place in the world I’d rather be than surrounded by tools and fire and covered in sweat.
And at least you’re not immolating anyone...
I shove that thought away as fast as it comes. Roshan had convinced everyone that a spontaneous lantern fire had caught us unawares. Aran’s easy, forthcoming forgiveness didn’t do much, however, to lessen my awful burden of guilt.
News had also come from the capital. Javed and Morvarid had been quick and ruthless in their removal of anyone who posed a threat to Javed’s succession, including any distant relatives from the House of Regulus who could have a hereditary claim. Even war leaders from Antares with minor armies of their own had been quietly deposed. According to gossip, the Aldebaran alderman who disputed the queen’s position as regent was sent to the arena and devoured by Javed’s pet azdaha, under false claims of treason.
There is danger on all sides of the realm.Roshanis facing danger on all sides of the realm.
The last thing I want to be is another fear for him.
Gritting my teeth, I reach for the blade I’m working on. There’s nothing like beating a piece of hot metal, shaping it into something malleable and useful, to bring a sense of order to things. Not that I’m having much success at the moment. I’ve already broken two pieces with my arrhythmic, heavy-handed hammering.
“Hey,” Roshan says, making me jump in surprise as he leans gracefully against a nearby table. He’d been off prepping with Aran, who was heading to the Indraloka to get some jadu crystals, and I’d welcomed the time alone to pound out some of my frustration.
I pause in my work, trying to ignore the fractured beat of my pulse at the sight of him. “Hey.”
He studies me, his body propped in a casual stance. After a handful of days, his forearms have mostly healed, but that doesn’t stop the remorse from rearing its head every time I see the new, shiny flesh. Aran had also recovered with minimal damage, thanks to his protection runes. I suspect he’s had a hand in accelerating Roshan’s healing, too.
Lust, gratitude, and shame make for a charming cocktail of emotions.
“Do you need something?” I ask, throat tight.
“No. Just checking to see how you are.”
Silky, dark curls fall over his brow, and his bottomless gold-flecked brown eyes are fixed on me. He bites his lip and my gaze flicks to his mouth. Warmth licks through my entire body... not the star kind, theI want to jump your boneskind.
By the maker, what iswrongwith me?
My eyes drop to his reddened chin. “I hate that I burned your face,” I say, swallowing against another wave of shame.
“Scars make us who we are,” he replies. “And I’m way too pretty for this little blemish to make any difference.”
