“I’msosorryaboutthe iron,” Sura says for the hundredth time. Her knee grazes mine as the carriage lurches forward. We’re crammed in here—Zev and I sandwiched together on one side, Sura across from us. Her gaze flits between the slim cuffs on my wrists and the thick shackles around Zev’s. She purses her lips, and I know the apology is meant only for me.
After we agreed to go with them, one of the rebels quickly cuffed Zev, then me. The burly man had intended to collar Zev as well, and if not for the iron, I might’ve sent an ice spear hurtling through him. I couldn’t stomach the thought of Zev in an iron collar because of me—again.But luckily, Tairna had stepped in and insisted the shackles were enough to restrain him.
Still, my chest tightens now at the sight of the iron glinting around his thick wrists. Sura clears her throat, and I tear my gaze away. “It’s all right,” I murmur, bumping into Zev’s side as the carriage jostles again. My skin burns beneath the fabric separating us. “A precaution you needed to take.” The words taste like ash in my mouth.
“Yeah. Especially considering…” She trails off, her cool gaze landing on Zev. His hands flex, but he ignores her thinly veiled jibe. Like he’s ignored the last hundred of them.
“You’ve been well, Mayah?” my best friend asks, eyes shadowed with concern. “And Daak? How is he?”
Zev stills, spine going rigid. The air in the cramped space seems to grow colder. I’m surprised my breath doesn’t mist when I exhale shakily.
“Daak is dead,” I whisper.
A ragged gasp tears from Sura’s lips. “Tides carry him to peaceful waters. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, you must’ve been—”
“Tell me about the Rebellion,” I interject quickly, trying to mask the quiver of my chin. I glance sideways at Zev, gauging his reaction. His stony gaze is fixed outside the smudged window, a muscle ticking in his jaw, knuckles white as snow.
Tides drown me. When did my grief twist into something that hurt more for Zev than for Daak?
Sura bites her lip, glancing at Zev.
“Not about strategy or plans or anything,” I add quickly. “Tell me about your life. About Tumaas.”
“It’s been surprisingly … good. Happy. I have friends. A purpose. I’m a warrior, of course, but outside of that, I look after the camp’s children.”
I smile softly, imagining vibrant Sura with a gaggle of little ones around her. “That’s perfect for you.”
She hums, a bright smile on her face.
“Tumaas works in the forge. He and I share a room, which gets … awkward at times. He’s missed you terribly! I can’t wait to see his face when he sees you.”
Zev’s body is taut beside me.
“I’ve missed him, too. Both of you.”
If Zev doesn’t take a breath soon, someone might mistake him for a statue.
The carriage lurches to a stop, and Sura bolts to her feet. “We’re here!” she sings. “Don’t move.” She flounces from the carriage, leaving me alone with my husband.
Silence stretches between us, pressing down on my lungs.
I can’t bear it.
“You didn’t have to come with me.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I would’ve been fine on my own.”
“I didn’t come foryou,” he huffs. The words land harder than they should. I brace myself against them, but still, they find the softest parts of me and burrow inside. “I want to see Tairna’s work. What she chose over me.” Bitterness threads his voice, and my heart aches for him even as his words tear open a wound still struggling to heal.
“I’m sorry.” My hand wavers. I want to reach for him.
I don’t.
“But your mother is stillalive, Zev. You can decide how your story ends. I’d give anything to be standing where you are.”
His head swivels, and he stares at me with a haunted expression—
The carriage door opens.
“We’re ready for you,” Sura announces in her lilting voice. I let her tug me from the carriage, Zev close behind.
