She matched her breathing to his. He smelled like a mix of soap and sweat, sweet and sour and woodsy and distinctivelyhim. She wasn’t sure why she’d woken so early when they’d fallen asleep so late, but she was grateful for the extra moments.
Every moment still felt stolen. She knew it shouldn’t—that had been the entire point of the last resurrection spell and everything she had gone through all these years to reach that point—but every time she looked at him, it seemed like a new miracle. She couldn’t shake the memory of him gray and lifeless, wrapped in linen strips. She’d gotten her second chance, and she was determined not to waste it by feeling as if she didn’t deserve it.
She heard aclick-clickfrom near the window. The last of her constructs—the only one that hadn’t reported in yet—had returned. That must have been what woke her.
She felt her breath seize in her throat.
Please, no army.She wasn’t ready for this to end yet. She wanted to go on pretending that she could have peace—that her happiness wasn’t an illusion.
Careful not to wake Jentt, Kreya slipped out of his embrace. She crossed the room and knelt beside the construct. It was clogged with reddish-brown dust, picked up from the caves within the mountains. Grabbing a towel, she wiped down its gears. This particular construct looked like a mechanical tree squirrel. “Did you find something, little one?” she whispered.
Say no,she thought at it.
It shook its head.
Relief flooded through her.Maybe there is no army.
Maybe we get a future after all.
“Have you finished searching the caves?” she asked. She’d assigned each of them a portion of the tunnels that burrowed through the mountain, and this construct had the final unexplored region.
It nodded.
She smiled at it. “Excellent work. You’ve done well.”
Straightening slightly, it seemed proud of itself.
“You can rest now. You deserve it.”
It shook its head. It didn’t want to rest.
“Everything has been searched,” Kreya said. “Jentt and Stran have explored the forest around the city, you and your brethren have looked below the city, and there’s nowhere to hide an entire army within the city.” It seemed as if Eklor had told the truth: there was no army. He’d destroyed it, as he’d said. She’d let paranoia fuel her convictions.
The construct drooped as if disappointed. She’d built it to search. She wasn’t allowing it to be itself if she forced it to stop. “You want to search more?” she asked.
It perked up, waving its metal tail at her enthusiastically. Carrying it to the window, she looked out at the city, the mountains, the valley below...
She hadn’t considered the valley. A tight knot seized her stomach. Far below, she could see a hint of mists. The mists were thick enough to hide an army, and Eklor could have taken his monstrosities from the plain through the valleys to below Cerre.
Just because no one ever traveled through the mists didn’t mean it was impossible. After all, they’d done it themselves to reach Eklor. He could have had the same idea. “How about you search the valley, within the mists?” she said, with fake cheer in her voice. “Nothing there would be interested in eating you. You’re much too crunchy.” She patted its metal body. “Would that make you happy, to search more?”
It nodded, clicked at her, and then waddled out the window. She followed it, watching it climb down the side of Zera’s palace.Please let me be wrong.She hated that her imagination was so good at supplying new horrible possibilities. It was highly unlikely an army could have survived passage through the deadly valley. Made of partial flesh, Eklor’s soldiers would have drawn too many predators. Unless Eklor took steps to keep them concealed. Which he couldn’t have, right?
But he shouldn’t have been alive, either. Yet here he was.
“It won’t find anything,” she said out loud, as both a promise and a prayer.
Behind her, from the bed, Jentt said, “It’s good to be thorough.”
“Yes, but I’m not convinced it’s healthy to be paranoid. The war is over, and Eklor isn’t our problem anymore. He’s Grand Master Lorn’s. And Grand Master Lorn made it clear he doesn’t want our help. Or our paranoia.”
“You want to leave the city now, then? Say we’re done, and begin our traveling?”
She couldn’t tell from his voice whether he was hopeful or critical. His tone was bland, as if he had only a passing interest in her answer. Returning to bed, she climbed in with him. “Maybe we could. Maybe it’s time.” Except it didn’t seem right to leave yet, while Eklor still lived. He had to expire soon, given the rate at which he was doling out his future years, and then she’d finally feel free. “Soon,” she said. “Let’s let the construct search the mists first, just to be sure.”
He kissed her forehead. “Whatever you think is best.”
Yet he sounded relieved. She pushed back, her hands on his bare chest. “Do you think I’m being selfish, spending time with you instead of pounding on the grand master’s door, demanding a report on Eklor’s every move?”
