Claws raked across my heart like something was trying to burrow in. That hole left behind when the gods had abandoned me in the Eye of Ketet widened. I rubbed at the spot on my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You’re sorry,” he scoffed, turning his eyes up to the mosaic of stars in the night sky. Then he shook his head and rolled over, giving me his back.
I stared at him for a long moment, eyes burning.
I’d tried to do the right thing. That was all I’d ever wanted to do. Do right by Amunet, by Nadia and Tabia, by Ashorah, by the gods. But I’d failed. I had lied to protect my queen and only succeeded in damning her, along with all of Kaldfold and Ashorah. I couldn’t do a single gods-damn thing right.
I had the oddest sensation of being outside my own body, like I was gazing at my reflection in a mirror, seeing myself as Keir did, as everyone must. A sorry slip of a girl with unremarkable features who had let herself be broken by supervisors and overseers within a single year, who was weak and pathetic, who was now responsible for so much impending destruction.
Keir was right. This was all my fault. What happened to Rade, in here or out there, what would happen to Velka and Siv and little Milena, all of it was my fault. What should I have done? Risk the Gods-Chosen? Was that the braver thing, the right thing?
I watched myself rub at my chest again. The Wastelands would be a fitting resting place for me. I’d been alone at the start; I would be alone at the end.
As if I were standing a few feet away, I observed impassively as I pressed my hand harder against my chest, right over theX, and dug my nail in until it broke skin, until a stream of blood trickled out. The pain was distant. Like it wasn’t even mine. I drew my nail down, retracing my mark of shame, renewing it.
And then I traced it again. And again. Excavating old flesh, delving deeper and deeper, blood coating my hand. The scar thatmarked me as lesser, as lacking. Not strong and kind like Velka. Not brave like Rade or even little Milena. Not powerful like Keir and Amunet.
Amunet had given me theXbefore, but now I bestowed it on myself.
Even as I watched tears sear down my cheeks, watched myself shiver as I lay down on the sand, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this pathetic girl deserved everything she got.
FIFTY-THREEAMUNET
Deep, impenetrable darkness. I didn’t exist here; nothing did. There was no air, no sound.
And then, suddenly, there was.
A gentle breeze swept across my face. Not the warmth of a breath, like Shaya’s breeze. Not the hot gust of Ashorah or Dead Man’s Forest. No, this was… something I had never experienced before.
I blinked my eyes open to one of the most gorgeous ceilings I’d ever seen. Made of pure gold that glinted in a soft morning light, shapes of various sizes pressed in as if by a giant’s branding iron. Hexagons and diamonds and circles, all outlined in polished silver—a kaleidoscope of wonder.
Brows furrowing, I pushed myself up. I found myself, inexplicably, on a luxurious mattress, with covers of pristine white drawn up over my body. Gone was the exhaustion of the past few days, along with the nausea, sweat, and buzzing in my head.
Where the fuck was I?
“Athar?” I called. The only response was my own echo.
I swung my legs off the bed, feet sinking into the plush white rug. It wasn’t just the ceiling that was made of gold; the floor and walls were, too. I made my way over to the bank of windows cut into the left wall. As I leaned out, taking in the gorgeous garden, a softwind caressed my face. I was several floors up, the perfect vantage point from which to take in not only the garden, but the landscape of vivid greens beyond it—grass and palm trees and shrubs, spreading into the distance. Alive. More than alive. Thriving. The sun was nestled like a golden egg in the blue palm of the sky. It didn’t beat down but bathed. Encouraged living things to bask in it. My heart skipped a beat.
That was notmysun.
Which meant…
“Athar!” I shouted, a touch more frantic.
Nothing. Not even a mocking chuckle.
My heart thundered, breaths coming in panicked puffs. Athar had sent me here. I’d trusted a trickster god like an idiot, a gods-damnedimbecile, and now I had no idea where I was. I spun away from the window and leaned against the cool gold wall, eyes squeezed shut, trying to find some solidity.
Power tingled at my fingertips. I glanced down in surprise. It felt… more tangible now. No longer on the periphery or just beyond my reach. My breaths came easier as it wove up my arms in ribbons of comfort.
The door across the room opened, and I tensed, feet spreading into a stance that would make Jasim proud.
A girl with long raven-black hair smiled at me. “You’re awake,” she chirped. She held a gold tray in her hands, balancing a chalice and a small bowl of fruit. Gingerly, she set it on the ottoman at the foot of the luxurious bed. “You’ve been asleep for fucking ages, so I thought you might be hungry.”
I squeezed my eyes shut until I saw stars. But when I opened them again, she was still there. My mind stuttered.
The gentle waves around her face were not familiar, nor was the ease of her smile or her strong frame. Her sleeveless turquoise gown showed off defined biceps and forearms crawling with veins. Butthe emerald-green eyes that glittered out of a tan face… those wereveryfamiliar.
