“Maybe. But would you be able to live with yourselves if the First Gods perished and you could have prevented it?” Enebish asks, respectful but unflinching.
Once again I’m struck by her newfound confidence. By her willingness to trust and hope despite everything that’s happened.
Neither king responds. Their soldiers stand at attention, as if waiting for the signal to turn on us.
Go!the wind howls in my ears, urging me toward the Kalima and the promise of vindication.Say whatever you must to move them along.
Except now an inconvenient seedling of conscience whispers back.Are you certain that’s still what you want?
The headache I’ve been nursing since we left Zemya pummels my temples.
No matter what I choose, I have nothing to gain by standing here, hesitating.
“We’re nearly there, for skies’ sake!” I point at the blue-quartz ice caves less than half a league away. “It would be foolish to turn back now.”
I vowed on pain of death to never reveal the Kalima’s hidden refuge. But my warriors also vowed to never stab me in the back, and they had no problem doing that.
Anything’s fair in war. Whatever it takes to restore my honor.
The trouble is, I’m not entirely sure what constitutes as honorable anymore.
With a terse shake of my head, I lead the rebels to an enormous ice boulder and watch as a dozen men heave it to the side. I could have easily crumbled the boulder, but I won’t expend a drop of my power. I’m saving it for the glorious reunion with my warriors.
The image of their horrified faces as I burst into their stronghold has lulled me to sleep every night for weeks. It’s kept me focused and resilient and hungry. Finally,finally,I’m here.
The entrance to the cave resembles a fox’s den. It requires crawling on hands and knees through a short stretch of tunnel before it opens into a vaulted cavern that’s a gradient swirl of blues. Its grandeur could rival any palace, but I opt not to share this information. I prefer to watch the shepherds balk and cry at the entrance. Half of them choose to stay behind with the sleds and Enebish’s noisy eagle. The Chotgori, on the other hand, crowd closer to the entrance, marveling that the Kalima’s rendezvous point was hidden so close.
Ivandar babbles with excitement beside me, staring into the ice as if it holds the answers to all of his problems. I sneak a glance at his harsh-cut profile. What if all of this has been a ruse: The feud with Kartok? Rescuing me from the sea? His seemingly noble ambitions? The prince and sorcerer could easily be working together. Ivandar could be plotting to access the realm of the gods to carry out the very plans he’s so intent on “stopping.”
You don’t care,I remind myself.The Lady and Father aren’t your gods.
He’ll never succeed anyway. You’re turning him over to the Kalima.
You’re acknowledging them as gods now?
The back-and-forth is enough to give me whiplash.
“Is there a reason we’re waiting?” Serik calls from behind me. “Shall I go first? I know coming here must be difficult after your warriors rejected you….”
“Nothing about this is difficult,” I lie as I wriggle into the tunnel. The deeper I crawl, the more the ice calls to me. Its energy is intense and feverish, whisking away my anger and filling me with a giddy rush of joy. An immediate influx of certainty.
Whatever waits at the tunnel’s end, I am strong enough to face it.
Iwillemerge victorious.
The group follows me through the twisting blue quartz tunnels, past stalactites so clear, they look like chandeliers, and down slopes of ice as black as the roads in Sagaan. The swift-moving meltwater that carved the tunnels rushes along beside us, providing drinking water and serving as our guide.
As we walk, I run my fingers along the wavy turquoise walls. I stare up at the ceiling, which rolls like the Zemyan Sea. I’ve only been here a handful of times—there was no need when Ashkar had a firm hold on the continent—and I’m immediately overcome by the beauty of this place and the power it stirs in me. This feeling in my chest that’s both warm and cold. Perfect wholeness and stillness, like the arms of my parents wrapping around me.
Welcome home,it whispers.
But where is home: With the Kalima? With these rebels? With the ice? Or whatever created it?
My feet move faster as we round another bend. The frozen walls are too thick to see or hear through, but thanks to my power, I canfeelthe body heat of the Kalima warriors in the adjacent chamber. So close.
“How do you want to approach this?” someone asks. It could be Serik or Enebish or Ivandar. Or the kings, who are still naysaying. Or one of Enebish’s outcasts. They’re all talking at once, but I hear none of it. Because none of it matters.
I know exactly how I want to approach.
