She stopped. To the left, far below, an archway glowed with a warmer kind of light. Firelight.
Making her way for that arch, Nothing felt the huge heartbeat again. It shook her bones and she nearly lost her balance, knees bending. But she stumbled on, caught herself against the arch, and everything righted itself.
Nothing stepped out of the huge chamber and into the firelit corridor. She could hardly think, knowing what lay ahead as she walked. Not as quickly as before, one hand touching the rough wall. It curved sharply and deposited her in a small chamber with glinting streaks of diamond veins and bursts of ruby. Behind a mouth of obsidian bars was Kirin Dark-Smile.
This time, it was him.
Torn and death-pale, he leaned against the wall, legs out before him. His velvety green dress was tattered, the red-black-silver embroidered flowers massive like bleeding wounds. Both his hands lay open to his sides, fingers curled loosely. His lips were drained of color, his cheeks hollow, and smears of blushing blue sank beneath his eyes. He was not beautiful. Streaks of ash smeared the left side of his face. His hair was lank.
But the ropes of white and sea-green pearls around his neck glinted cleanly in the light of the single oil lamp in the cell with him. Beside it was a tangle of blankets, a bowl less pristine than the one in Nothing’s room, and an empty plate.
Nothing crept nearer, as silent as possible, that she might stare for longer.
Her prince breathed shallowly but evenly. Sleeping.
Relief stole her breath, and a crescendo of love grew so loud in her bones she ached with it.
She wanted to brush his hair, kiss him awake, strip the filthy clothing from him and take him to that cold mirror lake to scrub every speck of dirt and ash and tears off his skin. Feed him, hold him, make him warm again.
The string of pain that had led her here thinned and vanished. She felt herself again. Right.
Nothing gasped as she realized it was all true: she was not quite human, and Kirin had bound her to him years ago.
His eyes snapped open, clear and brown as crystalized honey.
She crouched before the stone bars.
“Nothing,” he whispered. “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” she said dully.
With a wince and a groan, Kirin pushed off the wall, struggling to his knees. He crawled to her and leaned his shoulder against the bars. “Nothing,” he said again. And he reached for her.
She gave him her hand. She couldn’t help it.
His fingers were dry, the nails cracked, and she threaded hers with his, pressing until their palms were flat together.
“I knew you would come,” he said.
“I’m sure you did.”
Kirin frowned at her tone but held her gaze. “Is Sky here? Is he well?”
Nothing lowered their hands. “He was injured when he challenged the Selegan River dragon, but he is here, and alive. She says he’s healing.”
“The sorceress.”
“Yes.”
“Can you get me out of here?” Kirin tugged at her hand.
She shuffled closer to the bars. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Have you bargained with her? Or did you find your way here alone?”
Nothing remained quiet, studying him, sure it was him and hating how absolutely certain she was. It was all true.
“Kirin,” she whispered, yearning for him to tell her there’d been a mistake.
He nodded.
“I slit the throat of the imposter she sent.” Nothing paused at his hiss of surprise. “Then tonight I met another imposter, and I knew that wasn’t you either.”
He nodded again.
The pain was back, hot as a swallowed ember. “What am I?”
Kirin started to say, Nothing. She could see it in the shape of his mouth, in the pull of breath.
But he paused, and instead answered, “Mine.”
TWENTY
NOTHING STARED AT HER prince for a long time.
He allowed it, silent and still.
Eventually, she pulled her hand free of his. “How long have you known?”
Kirin sighed. “Known? Only since I came here. Guessed? Years.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“What could I possibly have said? That you’d believe?”
Nothing sat back, hugging her knees to her chest. “You could have tried. ‘Nothing, you’re a demon. Nothing, I bound you to me. Nothing, I know your real name!’ ”
“Nothing—”
“No!” She stopped him. “I’d have had to believe you. Because it’s you.”
“I don’t think you’re a demon.”
Her scowl was enough to make him close his eyes. But he continued. “It’s true. Maybe you were, but you’re alive, and not possessed. You’re not like the great demon of the palace or any other demon I’ve ever met.”
“Maybe just because you bound me when I was a child.”
“Demons are never children.”
Nothing opened her mouth but found no argument.
“Don’t you see? If you were a child, you aren’t a demon. You might have been, before, in a different life, but you’re new. And that’s amazing.”
She ignored the thread of joy in his voice. The thread of ambition. “I’m still bound. Capable of being bound.”
It was Kirin’s turn to scowl. On him, so exhausted and pale, it was more of a pinched expression. “Everyone is capable of being bound. By duty or love or blood. I am to be your emperor someday. Wouldn’t you be bound regardless?”
“By choice.”
“Truly? You think anyone has a choice? Did I? I was born as I am. A prince. I must accept the Moon one day and be emperor. Where is my choice? I can’t be who I want to be, not all of me. Stop your self-pity and get me out of here.”
She wanted to do what he said. She always wanted what Kirin wanted! Clenching her teeth, Nothing stood up and backed away for her own protection. “Sky chose you.”
Kirin sucked in a shocked breath. “Sky loves me. That’s different.”
“Do you deserve him?”
“Nothing!” Kirin stood up, gripping the bars. “I’m sorry! I should have told you.”
Her heart ached so badly as she stared at him. Her beautiful maiden who was also her prince. “What’s my name?” she whispered.
And he actually hesitated! Nothing made her hands into fists and bared her teeth, but before she could scream at him, he said, “I could tell you, but she might be listening, and I won’t give her that power over you. As long as you’re mine, she can’t force you to do anything.”
Nothing’s knees wavered. It was all too much. “I want to be my own, not yours or hers.”
“You should already know it—you were there when I gave it to you. You should remember.”
“You must not want me to remember,” she accused. “Or I would.”
Kirin shook his head. “It—I don’t think it works that way. I can command you directly if I use your full, true name, but the binding… I’ve studied it as best I can.… It’s not one-way, Nothing. I’m bound to you, too. I want you to be safe and happy and strong. We belong together.”
“Have you commanded me directly with my name?” Hysteria bit up her throat.