Like the two drawstrings of my sweatpants. The plastic aglets hung loose between my thighs, the inch between them a distance too great to cross. They couldn’t find each other. Twine into one. Make sense.
Like the universe without Conall.
Someone had flicked the light switch on him, and everything had ceased functioning.
Ihad ceased functioning.
“Do you need me to stop for a break?” Gedeon’s hands flexed on the wheel, the leather as dark as the early morning hours of today, when we’d helped Nissa and Dain to arrange the funeral fires. “Zion.”
It took conscious thought for my tongue to work. “Huh?”
“It’s been three hours.” Gedeon switched the gears to a lower setting. “Do you want to stretch your legs or eat the sandwiches Damia gave us?”
Whenever life hurled a challenge at her, Damia resorted to busying herself with anything she could get her hands on. This time, it’d meant packing the leftovers from the celebration and handing them out to anyone who passed her.
Gedeon swerved around a giant fissure in the asphalt, the jagged edge rising up, up, up to the sky, to the feathery clouds and beyond, to the stars Kali believed to be deities, to the?—
“Zion.”
For some reason, him saying my name served as a lifeline.
I rolled the window back up, cutting off the air current mid-whoosh. “What if it’s too soon?”
As he glanced at me, two stray locks of black fell on his temple. “What is?”
“The war.” I swiped the strands away, enjoying the silkiness of his hair. Kali’s and mine weren’t like his.
And we’d tried. But sneaking into the shower and using all of Gedeon’s hair products before the wedding hadn’t helped—the heaps on our heads had refused to listen to reason.
“We are out of time,” Gedeon muttered. “Ilasall will either expect us to retaliate hastily for Coriattus’ ambush, or take weeks, maybemonthsto plan and prepare. If we hit them sometime in between, we can utilize the element of surprise.”
My fists curled. “We’ll see what Ezra says.” Ava had to have apprehended him by now. Hopefully, the rattle of chains securing him to the table in our underground kept him company while he considered his life choices.
A freaking brother of Gedeon’s. Not confirmed, but still.
Worthy of my blade’s caresses in spite of potential blood ties.
A disintegrating vehicle glinted in the daylight, the skeleton resting in the middle of the road, battling the vegetation sprouting from the cracks and climbing up the frame.
Gedeon squinted as he maneuvered around it.
He was pushing himself too far. Again.
“Stop driving.”
Instead of responding to me, he glanced at Kali stirring up in the backseat—her light snoring waned. “Hungry?”
Rubbing her eyes, she adjusted her seat belt. Yawned.
Clearly, his question hadn’t registered.
“Gedeon, stop.” I twisted in my seat. “Your migraine will eat you alive.” As usual, he wouldn’t allow any breaks for himself.
A scowl so mighty it could shatter cement carved lines across his forehead. “I don’t have a headache.”
“Notyet.” After all this time, I could recognize an approaching attack as easily as one could differentiate between day and night. “You’re squinting at the road, blinking as if there’s something in your eyes, and keep licking your lips like you do when you’re thirsty. I give it two hours tops before the dull ache festering here”—I tapped his temple—“flares into pain.”
His frown morphed into a glare.
