The vestai’s wife took us on a tour of the city that lasted most of the day. With little sleep and after the exertions of the day and night before, my strength wasn’t what it should have been. It worked to my advantage, though, when I was allowed to rest and their people came to greet me, bringing me babies and children to kiss like it was a blessing.
I kept my purple hood off. Everyone asked me the questions with or without it, and after the first time or two of issuing the lie, Galen answered for me, telling curious folk that the Resistance had staged a rebellious act and soldiers had had to put it down while I was caught in the middle of it. I was grateful. The words turned to ash on my tongue.
That afternoon, I ate a little and promptly vomited it back up. Thoroughly exhausted, I went to lie down in my chamber, not expecting to sleep.
My baby seemed to have other ideas, however, and I woke to Galen gently shaking my shoulder. The big windows showed nothing but darkness, and I yawned.
“I missed the sunset,” I said.
His eyebrows pulled together. “You fell asleep,” he told me.
Sitting up in the bed, I saw he had a plate of food in one hand. “What’s that?”
“The vestai’s wife made these,” he said, pointing to pale, hard-looking squares. “They’re baked ground grains. She said they were the only thing she could eat when she was in her first few months with her sons.”
I took one, biting into the crisp edge. It didn’t have much flavor at all, and I could see why they would be easy to stomach. I nodded, taking another bite.
“We shouldn’t have ridden like that yesterday,” he said. “That was irresponsible of me.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I needed that far more than I needed not to.”
“Still.”
I finished the first and took another crisp square.
“Why didn’t you leave?” he asked me, not looking at me. “This morning, when I thought you were gone—I was a little relieved,” he admitted, his voice soft.
“Relieved?” I repeated. My heart lurched in my chest, thinking of my bold thoughts this morning.
He was looking at the stone walls. “That you weren’t going back to him.”
I shook my head. “There are too many people at risk,” I told him. “I have to go back.” For now. Until I can figure out how to leave him safely.
He glanced at me, then away, opening his mouth.
“Are you afraid of heights?” I asked quickly, spitting out crumbs to try to speak before he could.
He looked at me, offended and confused. “What? No.”
“You can tell me if you are. This morning, on the rock, you looked …” Scared. “Uneasy.”
His head whipped away from me. “I’m not afraid of heights,” he snapped, going closer to the window.
“What was it, then?” I asked. “It’s all right if you are.”
“Three hells, Shalia, I’m not afraid of heights,” he growled. “I think I’m a little afraid of you.”
My eyes blinked wide at this.
He looked at me, leaning against the window ledge and crossing his arms. “You just—you don’t realize what you do. Zeph and Theron—they’re hardened killers, but they’re puppies for you. And Kairos loves you. You just—you make people love you, Shalia. And I’m not talking about—about other sorts of love. It just looked—it felt—it looked like a family. Like a family is supposed to feel.”
I pushed the food away, putting my legs off the side of the bed slowly, like he was an animal and might spook. Things tumbled through my mind, about his sister, his brother, his father. “Family frightens you,” I said softly.
“No,” he said, shaking his head, resolutely looking at the ground. “Wanting family frightens me.”
I stood, staying close to the bed. “Why?”
A dark red color flushed through his cheeks, even as the muscles in his jaw rolled and bunched. “I’ve committed a lot of sins in the name of family,” he said, his voice low and harsh, like the sound was caught in his throat.
“But it’s different, isn’t it?” I asked.
He looked at me, and I felt like I was standing too close to him suddenly, because there was something open and raw in his eyes. “Wanting a woman?” he asked. “Children? It’s different.”
Imagining him with some other woman and with some other children felt different—and sharp—too. “But still frightening.”
His eyes shut, and every muscle in his face looked tense. “Yes. I can’t want that, Shalia.”
I waited. I knew I didn’t have to say the word for him to know that I was waiting to hear why.
His throat worked, and his voice was rougher when he spoke. “I’m no good at caring about people.” His eyes opened, and the openness there betrayed something new, a wound inside him that he’d never let me see before.
My skin prickled a warning, but I stepped closer. My heart ached for him, for his loneliness, for his pain. I reached for his hand, to reassure him with a touch like I would my brothers, but I couldn’t. It would be different, and more. I cleared my throat and let my hand fall, trying to sound steady and strong. “I think you’re wrong. But your believing that matters much more.”
For long heartbeats, I looked at him, and he stared into my eyes. His mouth opened and closed, and whatever more there was to say, neither of us could find the words to say it.
I stepped back. “I assume you came to get me for the feast?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Give me a moment to change.”
He stood still for a moment, then bowed his head and left.
The feast was served on a wide platform at the top of the mountain, a beautiful scene lit by flickering torchlight. The vestai’s wife was kind enough to make a few more items she thought I could stomach, and I ate my first full meal in days by virtue of it. When musicians started to play, the city folk immediately jumped up to dance. Within moments I saw a pretty girl teaching Kairos the dance.
It wasn’t terribly hard—it seemed like a slightly slower version of the dances we did in the desert. There was a lot of jumping and swinging, but instead of a group, this was done with just two people, turning each other around while you held on to your partner.
“Does the queen know our dances?” Vestai Nikan asked, bowing in front of me.
“I don’t,” I told him.
“May I have the honor of teaching you?” he said, straightening up and extending his hand.
“Be gentle, Niki!” his wife warned.
“Yes, please!” I said with a careful smile that didn’t push my cheeks up as I put my hand in his.
He led my hand to his hip, and he put his on my opposite hip so we could hold on to each other. He was gentle and quite respectful, but as we danced I saw how this could be so thrilling, to hold your love tight and whirl around under the stars.
One of the vestai’s teenage sons stole me from his father, and he held me much tighter and closer, so our bodies were pressed side by side as we turned and jumped. He smiled wolfishly, holding me closer still as the dance went on.
The musicians paused for a moment, and we stopped jumping. I pulled away from the vestai’s son, thanking him for the dance. He stepped forward like he meant to ask me for another as the musicians started again, but I found a new hand on my hip.
“My turn, Niko,” Galen told the young man. The boy scoffed, but he bowed out.
I shivered as Galen’s hand took a firmer hold of my hip. “This might be a terrible idea,” I whispered to him.
He nodded, but his eyes were locked on mine. I barely felt the motion as we began to dance, until the first jump brought us closer, his hard chest and side supporting me. He swung me faster, and a nervous, happy laugh bubbled out of me.
As the dance sped up, I forgot to be so conscious of him and we just danced together. He was good at it, fast and strong, and as he spun me around, I tilted back to look up at the stars, glittering overhead.
He pulled me back up as the dance ended, and we were face-to-face, chest-to-chest, breathing hard.
My eyes dropped, and I couldn’t stop staring at his lips, the way his breath rasped out over them, making his bottom lip shiver the tiniest amount.
Kiss him.
I pulled back sharply. I’d never consciously wanted to kiss someone in my whole entire life. As soon as it occurred to me, I couldn’t stop thinking it, and the idea alone caused my stomach to twist in a lovely, nervous way that made my whole body warm.
Trying to make it look like I wasn’t running away from him completely, I went back to the vestai and his wife, and within a moment made my excuses. I shook my hands, my traitorous hands, going to the far side of the platform. The vestai’s wife had shown us a cave that morning, and I went there, thinking that if I ran into Galen on the way to my room, I would—I would—I didn’t know.
I couldn’t possibly find out.
The cave was sharply colder, lit by a few torches. I took a deep breath for the first time since my dance with Galen began. I stared at the walls; I had wanted to come back here because it reminded me so much of Jitra, and I found myself running my fingers over the walls, trying to draw on my family to calm my racing heart, my traitorous mind.
“Shalia,” Galen called, and I shut my eyes, not turning around.
“You shouldn’t have followed me,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said, and it was so low it was nearly a growl.
I turned around and felt my power rush around my hands. He was so handsome, and the way he looked at me—no one had ever looked at me like that. Made me feel the things he could. “Why did you?” I breathed. “Why did you come here at all?”
“I lied before,” he said. His throat worked. “It’s not that I’m not good at caring about people. I care so damn much I feel like I’m going to snap in half. People are no good at caring about me,” he said. “Except you.”
Heat flooded through me, and I stepped closer to him. Taller than his brother, taller than me, he was the perfect height for me to tilt my mouth up to him.
And I did. I didn’t think, I just moved, closing the gap between us. For a second we hovered close, and I felt heat radiating out from his mouth, brushing over mine and making me shiver with want. Our lips touched, and my heart felt like it burst in my chest.
His mouth covered me, his lips damp as they slid over mine, matching and twisting until it felt like something was sealed between the two of us. His tongue touched mine, and lightning burst through my body, making my limbs jerk against him. My hands crawled over his chest, touching and feeling, memorizing.
He made a sound into my mouth, his arms clasping around my lower back, pulling me up and against him in a way that felt like it revealed what we were meant for. Every bit of his body that was against mine was like a thunderstorm, hot and damp and sparking. His arms unclasped to touch me, his hands running along my sides that suddenly felt so sensitive and ticklish that I was twisting against him, holding on to his shoulders like an anchor.
His hands came up to span my shoulders, holding me strong and close, and he broke our kiss, his mouth dropping to my neck.
I gasped, fisting my hands in his uniform jacket. I heard him chuckle as he kissed me again, right along the pulse in my throat.
“I don’t—” I whimpered.
He stopped, pulling back. “Don’t what?” he panted.
“Don’t know how—is it supposed to feel like this?” I asked.
“Does it feel good?” he asked.
I nodded, pressing my face against his head. He kissed my neck again, and warmth jolted through my skin.
“Then yes,” he told me. His arms changed, coming around me gently and rubbing like he was hugging me, really holding me as he kissed my neck.
I dug my fingers into his hair, and he leaned up, kissing me again. He shuffled back until he was against the wall, holding me tight against him, and his tongue dipped deeply into my mouth. When Calix did that, it always felt like an attack, but this was different. Shyly, I pushed my tongue forward along his, and he groaned.
A powerful shiver ran through me at the noise he made.
My hands moved, eager to touch him, pushing off his jacket and feeling the heat of his skin rising through his shirt. He tugged my coat off one shoulder, and instead of cold, my bare skin felt electric and alive.
I pushed at his shirt, wanting his skin, wanting to make him feel as uncontained as he made me feel. My coat dropped off me as I found his hem, sliding my hands underneath, up along his chest.
He shivered as our mouths broke apart. He blinked, looking at my face, stroking my hair back. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed over my lips.
Feeling dizzy, I pushed his shirt up higher, pressing a kiss to the bare skin over his heart. I looked up at him, and his hands went tighter on me. “You’re—” I started, but something bright caught my eye.
Turning, I gasped, shrinking back from him.
The cave had changed. Crystals were jutting out of the walls, bright and glittering; one torch was now fused to the wall, covered over by square purple rocks.
The torchlight twisted and moved, and new colors caught my eye. There was a swirl of blue veins dancing over glittering white quartz, a line of jagged, angular dark charcoal spikes. The floor was covered over with green, crystals that were as lush and vibrant as the color of his eyes. It was everywhere, like a physical manifestation of how much he made me feel.
Embarrassed and frightened, I covered my mouth, trembling. I looked at Galen, and he was taking it all in.
“Shalia,” he said, his chest still heaving for breath. His hands balled into fists as he looked at me. “Oh, God, Shalia.”
“I can … explain,” I breathed.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, you cannot explain this. Do you understand? You can’t say the words that would explain this. Not to me, not to anyone.”
I just stared at him.
“Not to anyone!” he roared. He turned and started kicking a crystal, chipping bits of it off, then snapping it, leaving rough, broken shards.
“Stop!” I cried, not daring to step toward him. “You’ll hurt yourself!”
He wheeled around. “Me? Me? Shalia,” he said, his voice softening. He came back to me, and I gasped, but his hands slid over my neck, cupping my face. “Shalia, if Calix ever finds this out—”
I nodded, the feel of his hands on me making calm and warmth rush through me. “I know.”
“You don’t,” he insisted. “Do you have any idea what we found when we went into the Summer Palace?” I pulled out of his grasp, but he didn’t stop, eager to torment me with his words. “I found bodies of—” Galen halted, swallowing, his jaw tense. “He made a device to transfer blood into another living thing, and he tried it on animals, birds. Humans. A girl. Until she ran out. Until she had no more blood left. He’s the one who devised these tortures.”
I was shaking, hard enough that a crystal I was leaning against cut my arm. “Don’t tell me these things,” I whimpered.
He came closer to me and touched my cheek. “Shalia, you have to leave. You have to run. He won’t just kill you. He’ll torture you, and then he’ll use your death to make a point. You have to go.”
“I can’t,” I whispered. “I will not just run away.”
His forehead touched mine, so lightly. “Please.”
“I can’t!” I snapped at him, pulling away. “You know I can’t. He will come after my family. He will break peace with the desert.”
“Let him!” Galen cried. “They can fight for themselves! They have before!”
“I’m having his child!” I yelled. “If I run, he would never just let me go. Never. He would hunt me, and find me, and punish everyone involved, including the whole of the desert. And I will not see my family die in the process.”
“And what about you?” he demanded.
“No,” I snapped. “What about you? You’re the commander of his armies, Galen. You command every sword he has at his disposal, and you would have me run! Subverting his evil acts is not the same as changing his soul! What line must he cross for you to stop defending him?”
He stepped back, bracing his hands on his hips. “If he ever raised a hand to you in front of me, I would kill him. I don’t think I could stop myself,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet mine. They looked dark, and dangerous, and they struck something deep within me. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to kill my brother?”
My mouth opened; “yes” hovered on my lips. It would be easy. I was sure he could do it, and perhaps, if I asked him, he would. I covered my mouth with my fingers. “No,” I said. “I would never ask that of you.”
“But it would be better, wouldn’t it?” he said. “If Calix were just to die. Everyone’s life would be better, wouldn’t it?”
My eyes moved over him. “Is that what you want?” I asked, my voice going soft.
His jaw tightened, and he nodded. “I’ve imagined it.”
“But you haven’t done it.”
He drew a deep breath. “He’s my brother. And more than that, I just—I don’t believe that more violence will help anything. Killing him would destabilize everything—the crown would fall to the vestai, and they would make thrice-damned short work of starting a civil war over which one of them deserves the most power.”
“His death would not be the end of the violence,” I finished.
He swallowed. “No. It would be the start of war. And worse … I can’t say I’m not responsible, Shalia.”
My blood ran cold, and I feared another horrible admission from his mouth.
He looked at me. “He became who he is to save me. And Danae. There were threats, and attempts—one nearly succeeded. One of the vestai poisoned all three of us, and it nearly killed Danae. I was sick for weeks. When my brother found out who was responsible, he didn’t hesitate. He killed him, in cold blood, with no trial, with no delay.” Galen’s eyes shone with pain as he stared at me, as if he was willing me to condemn him. “I was relieved, Shalia. I was grateful. That I was safe, that my sister was safe. Whatever he has become, it’s partially my fault. And I owe it to him to bring him back from this. Whether I like it or not, I cannot give up on him.” His head dropped. “But seeing that bruise on your face—this is the closest I’ve ever come in my whole life to it. For him to hit you when he claims to love you—to blame it on your family—perhaps that is the line. Perhaps he is too far gone. And perhaps I am a coward because I refuse to see it and act.”
I stepped closer to him, putting my fingers above his elbows. His skin shivered under my touch. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. It’s the same as blaming it on my family—he will act as he wishes and he will find an explanation for it later. That doesn’t mean you’re to blame.”
He didn’t say anything, but his arms opened, twining around me, pulling me tight against him, and I hugged him, his hands in fists on my back.
“There’s still hope,” I whispered. “Maybe he doesn’t want peace, but I do. You do. We can change him, Galen. We can be stronger than his hate. This baby can be stronger than his hate.”
“Shalia,” he said into my hair. “You don’t understand. You can’t go back to the Tri City. He can never discover this, and we’ll never have another opportunity to get you away from him.”
My shoulders lifted, tugging away from him. “No. He has men in the desert; it’s too much of a risk.”
“Shalia—”
“You cannot tell me to run when you decide to stay and fight! You cannot tell me to sacrifice my family when you’re trying to protect yours!”
“That’s not the same thing!” he shouted, shaking his head. “He will hurt you! Physically hurt you, Shalia!”
“He already has!” I yelled, pointing at my face.
“This is worse!” he roared. “And you’re not just risking yourself—you’re risking your child!”
“I can control my power!” I yelled back.
He flung his arms wide. “This doesn’t look like control!”
I shook my head, walking for the mouth of the cave. “Believe me, the things that trigger my power won’t be a problem anymore. And they never were with Calix anyway.”
He caught my arm, and I pulled away. “Trigger?” he asked. “What things?”
He reached for my arm again, and I stopped. “You will not touch me when I don’t want to be touched. Do you understand that? Maybe I can’t stop your brother—and maybe for that, I’m a coward too—but you will not touch me.”
Galen stood still for a moment, and at the look in his eyes, I doubted everything I said. He looked cut open, and vulnerable, and I wanted so badly to be the one to protect him for once. To cover that vulnerability and show him he deserved to be loved.
But I wouldn’t. Not now, not if it meant running while he stood and fought. I strode for the mouth, where I saw Theron and Zeph guarding the entrance. Where they could most likely hear everything. And even if they hadn’t, I’m sure they had their guesses, or they would have come inside.
Shame burned on my face, and I nearly ran back to my chamber. Theron followed close behind, and Zeph stepped in front of Galen.
He didn’t dare yell after me with people so near, but I could feel his anger and reproach on my back. I didn’t care.
I knew that his anger would keep me safe—without his touch, without the stolen looks that irrepressibly opened my heart to his, I wouldn’t lose control of my power again. Nothing else called my power up so forcefully.
And yet it felt like the fragile thing between us had shattered, and of all the horrible things that had happened in the previous days, it was the most devastating.
It would keep me safe, and it broke my heart.