Varian’s mask of composure was back in place as she inclined her head. She could not argue with my statement. “And yet she is here.”
“I can go weeks without eating,”Isanara added in between mouthfuls.
The crunch of the pyrite in her jaws grated against my senses, overwhelming my ability to think or moderate myself. My power surged in response and all the energy I could muster went to holding it in check rather than my tongue.
“How do you know so much about dragons? You said yourself that they predate the gods.” The words came out like an accusation. I supposed they were, in a way. Varian was more than she appeared to be and had motivations that could not be explained by or attributed to her status as a priestess of the Seven Gods. I was fucking sick of being the last to know everything.
Her dark eyes did not waver. “I am the keeper of the Seven Gates.”
Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.
Varian clearly did not feel she owed me an explanation. She turned back to her meal preparations. I avoided Garrick’s gaze entirely, though I felt the weight of it. He’d been noticeably silent during the exchange.
Back at Seraxa’s altar, Isanara had finished the chunk of pyrite she’d extracted from Tomin’s pack. The acolyte was already digging and a moment later, pulled out another chunk of ore the size of his palm.
“You do not have to give that to her,” I said, planting a hand on each hip.
“Speak for yourself.”She snapped her jaws toward Tomin’s hand—which promptly started to shake. But he held out his offering, still.
“I will find you something else to eat. We have caused Tomin enough trouble,” I said aloud.
“You have caused him trouble. Not me.”Her head darted forward, snatching the pyrite from his palm without touching a single fang to his shaking hand.
“She can have it. All of it,” Tomin said, slowly lowering his hand to his lap. He grasped it with his other, trying to quell the shaking. But his eyes never left Isanara. “I still cannot quite believe that she is real.”
I tried to see her the way he might. I’d encountered a few dangerous creatures over the course of my hundreds of years in the coven lands. They’d all been creations of the witches and more or less bowed to our power, unlike Isanara. Dragons predated the Dark God’s creation of the witches. I’d never seen one myself, but the power within her spoke to the power in me. Maybe it was because she’d bonded herself to me as my familiar, but I suspected it had as much to do with the fact that we were both immortal beings. Both tied to the power of Velora itself. I was awed by her, but I did not fear her.
Her pale violet scales reflected the light as she moved, her sinuous neck and shimmering scales appearing almost white at times. Like the frost that surged in my veins, she was at once beautiful and deadly, the spikes along her spine a visual reminder of the power of her species. Not unlike the coven mark between my brows.
It felt almost as if we’d been carved from the same ancient stone.
“Me neither,” I admitted softly.
We watched her in silence, the quiet stretching out between us. It wasn’t exactly heavy, but I could still feel the weight of it. The responsibility for lifting it rested solely with me.
I sat down cross-legged on the ground behind Isanara, giving Tomin plenty of space to ignore me or walk away.
“I am sorry for before,” I said, forcing my fists to flatten and folding them in my lap. “I am sorry for how I acted and what I said. Not just at the Sacrifice Gate, but before, too. I treated you terribly when all you wanted to do was help me.”
Tomin kept his eyes on Isanara. “You are a witch.”
A witch does not apologize.Another axiom that Maura had drilled into me during those early decades with my coven. But there was no way Tomin could have known that. Which said plenty about what he thought of my kind.
“As if that is an excuse,” I sighed. “It has been my excuse for a very long time.” I could so easily attribute every ugly impulse within me to what I was—what I’d been forced to become. Garrick was right when he said I had not chosen to be resurrected. I’d expected to die alone in that frostbitten forest. Maybe I’d even deserved to.
But there I was, with a familiar and a friend.
Tomin nodded his head, as if deciding something, then lifted his chin to meet my eyes. “I accept your apology. But may I ask a question?”
He could ask, but that did not mean I had to answer.
But I would. There was only one query that I was bound to leave unanswered.
I nodded.
“Why did the exercise in the temple unnerve you so deeply?” He leaned forward as he spoke, an errant black curl falling over his forehead. The earnestness in his face, undisguised, made him look even younger than he was.
I’d always been the youngest sister. First in my family, and then in my coven. I’d never been tasked with guiding or caring for a younger sibling. But if I had, I would have wished for one like Tomin.
