“Hewon’t,” he snapped, voice dipping to a threatening growl.
“I know about the bond,” I said, and felt slightly victorious at his surprised blink. “And I don’t particularly want to be tied to you, either. But I think it’ll be worth it if it means getting out of here faster.”
“What you think doesn’t matter,” he retorted. “You are not entitled to the bond, and I refuse to let you have it. Eira will keep Rade safe, and we will walk. End of discussion.”
We stared off for another few moments, both our glares strong enough to melt flesh from bone. He was being proud and stubborn, and it was going to get all three of us killed.
Finally, I bit out, “We’ll need water.”
“We’ll use our shoes.”
“Our feet will burn on the sand.”
“Then we’ll burn our feet.” He slipped off his other shoe and headed back for the pool.
By the time Keir allowed us to stop walking, the pads of my feet were a blistered mess. I’d only hissed with that first step onto the simmering sand, but I’d gritted my teeth and choked back any other sound. Contrary to Keir’s belief, I had experienced plenty of pain in my life. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking I couldn’t handle it.
We trekked through the Wastelands well into the night, making the most of the hours without the sweltering heat, and some of the tension bled out of my body as the sand cooled. But like this place was some cruel joke, once the sky darkened, the temperature plummeted. I suddenly wished Keir had his fur cloak. I kept my arms crossed tightly over my chest, but with no help from my flimsy dress, I couldn’t stop shivering.
It wasn’t until the full moon shone brightly that Keir finally slowed. “We’ll need to start again before the sun is up,” he said. “But we can rest a few hours.”
I dropped to the sand without a word, carefully placing my water-filled boots beside me, and drew my knees as close to my chest as possible. Every inch of my skin was sticky with dried sweat, and I could still feel the hot touch of the sun on the top of my head despite the chill.
Keir lowered himself easily. If it weren’t for the vicious sunburns marking every visible part of his body, I would’ve thought he was absolutely fine. With an exhausted sigh, he turned to me. “How much do you know about this place?”
I shrugged. “Not much.”
“Your king nearly died out here. Surely he shared some tips for staying alive.”
I gave him a bland look. “You know how he stayed alive.”
“He didn’t tell you anything that might be helpful? Some place he took shelter, maybe? Or what food he scavenged?”
I’d been racking my mind for those same answers for hours, searching the recesses of my memories for any tidbit that could tell us where to go or what to do. But I’d never personally spoken to King Zaid, and all the stories about his time in the Wastelands were focused on the jinn that had appeared to him. It was a story of Shaya’s benevolence, not survival.
I shrugged helplessly. “He was only in the Wastelands for three days.”
“Did you never ask what it was like?”
“We didn’t have that sort of relationship.”
He shook his head with a dark laugh. “Unbelievable.”
I bristled. “What?”
“This is your fault. The least you could do is offer some knowledge on your own land.”
“My fault?” I sputtered.I’m not the one who forced you to lick my blood off that blade. I drew a slow breath before I launched us into another argument. With forced calm, I said, “The Wastelands are not Ashoran territory.”
“Oh, please. When you were homesick, you looked here. To the Wastelands.”
“Because it was as close as I could get—”
“You knew.” He glared at me, accusation shining in his gold eyes, and I knew we were no longer talking about the Wastelands. “You knew you had no magic. How could you let it get this far?”
That emptiness inside me lifted its slumbering head, awoken by the deep pang of guilt that reverberated through me. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Bullshit.” He dug his fingers into his hair, not caring that it messed up the long braid. “I begged you, Majesty. I begged you not to give us false hope. You chose to do it anyway.”
