“You’re coming with us,” Ashlyn said. Her eyes speared toward Torell. “You too. Neither of you are going anywhere until all this is over and I can figure out what to do with you.”
“I wouldn’t leave Kiva anyway,” Tor said.
“I would,” Cresta grumbled, but Kiva could see the lie written on her face. Despite herself, Cresta was intrigued, maybe even excited to be included in their plans.
The group dispersed shortly after that, with Ashlyn heading off to send word to her military leaders, but only after ordering Tor, Cresta, and Galdric to help Eidran gather supplies for their journey — not so subtly indicating that she wanted them to remain under the guard’s watchful eyes.
Once they were gone, Jaren departed as well, leaving Kiva alone with Caldon. She stared longingly at his retreating back as he exited the command center, disappointed that he hadn’t thawed toward her even after learning that the Hand could return his magic. Nevertheless, the concern she’d seen from him earlier that morning remained with her, continuing to give her hope.
Everything will be all right, Kiva told herself as she agreed to help Caldon pack and followed him out into the summer sunshine. We’ll find the rings, Jaren will get his magic back, we’ll stop Navok, and then Zuleeka and I will —
Kiva’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when she caught sight of Tipp standing just outside the command center doorway, talking with Jaren. Their heads were bent together, Tipp was wearing a gap-toothed smile, and Jaren was grinning back at him, his expression lighter than anything she’d seen since they’d been reunited, causing her heart to skip a beat. Jaren used to grin at her like that all the time, but now . . .
Gods, she missed him.
But she focused on Tipp, who had just noticed her, the smile falling from his face.
“Maybe you shouldn’t —” Caldon murmured under his breath, but Kiva moved forward before he could finish.
She barely made it two steps before Tipp spun on his heel and stalked away.
Kiva froze, wanting to call out but fearing he would ignore her. Certain he would ignore her.
“Tipp,” she whispered, staring after him, her eyes welling.
A slight movement made her look from his shrinking figure back to Jaren, who was still standing there, watching her closely. For a second, she thought she saw a flash of pity in his blue-gold gaze, before it was gone again in an instant.
And then so was he, taking off after Tipp and not looking back.
Chapter Fourteen
That night, Kiva found herself in the infirmary again.
It was after midnight, but she couldn’t sleep — partly because she was anxious about the journey they were about to undertake, but mostly because she couldn’t stop thinking about her encounter with Tipp earlier that day. He’d avoided her completely in the hours since then, had even relocated to Jaren’s room that evening because he knew she wouldn’t venture there. He was doing everything he could to stay away from her, and while she understood, it still hurt. If only he would allow her to speak with him, to explain . . .
Kiva sighed and pulled back the curtain to Naari’s bed, finding the guard looking exactly as she had the previous night.
For a long moment, Kiva did nothing, just stared down at her friend and the dark shadows swirling around her. But then she reached out and linked their fingers together.
“Galdric’s right,” Kiva said quietly. “I am scared of my magic. I’m scared of myself.” She exhaled and admitted, “But I’m more scared of losing anyone else who I care about.” She squeezed the guard’s hand. “I need you back, Naari. We need you back.”
Her words didn’t pull Naari from her unnatural slumber, but she hadn’t come to the infirmary just to talk to her friend.
You are who you decide to be, Kiva, Galdric had told her that morning. Good or bad, it’s your decision.
As anxious as she was about what her magic could do and who she might become, right now, Kiva knew herself. She’d been through hell to get to where she was, suffered more in ten years — even in ten weeks — than many people did in an entire lifetime. There was no part of her that was tempted to even consider using her power for evil.
Kiva had made mistakes. Terrible, awful, life-ruining mistakes. But for better or worse, she’d always done what she thought was right. Her magic didn’t define who she was, nor did it have the power to decide her fate.
Tilda had chosen to embrace death magic, however briefly. Zuleeka had chosen the same dark path. But that wasn’t Kiva’s choice — and it never would be.
You’re different from them, her grandmother had said, just before she’d died. The light to their darkness.
Standing there, looking down at Naari, Kiva felt something settle within her. Her magic was a gift, not a weapon. She had no reason to fear it; it was a part of her, as real and as life-giving as the very blood in her veins. She decided what to do with it, no one else.
And she was determined to use it for good.
Past, present, and future — she would always use it for good.
Starting right now.
Inhaling deeply, Kiva tightened her grip on Naari and closed her eyes, calling to the magic in her blood. She didn’t allow her mind to wander down the path of fear, refusing to give power to the darkness of possibility.
Whispering to herself, Kiva chanted, “I am good. I am in control. And I am not afraid.”
She’d thought it would be difficult, that she would have to fight for it and wrestle it into submission, but it was as if her magic had been waiting for her to finally summon it, to embrace it, to accept it. Almost immediately, her fingers began to tingle and warmth flooded her veins, right before golden light seared through her closed eyelids as her power flowed out in gentle, healing waves.
Kiva nearly wept at the feeling coursing through her, the purity of her magic, the goodness of it. It wasn’t evil — she wasn’t evil.
A half sob, half laugh left her as she willed her power to destroy Zuleeka’s shadows and release their hold on Naari.
The guard’s fingers twitched.
Kiva jumped and opened her eyes just in time to see her healing light fade — taking with it any trace of the death magic.
Zuleeka’s shadows were gone.
Kiva had done it. It hadn’t even been hard. She’d just had to believe in herself — to not be afraid of herself.
“Naari?” Kiva whispered, swaying slightly, having forgotten how exhausted she always felt after using her magic. “Naari, it’s Kiva. Can you —”
Amber eyes shot open.
In an impossibly fast move, Naari launched herself out of bed and tackled Kiva, the two of them tumbling to the ground, the sheets tangling around their legs, the curtains tearing and falling down on top of them.
“What are you —” Kiva gasped out, but that was all she managed before the guard’s fingers wrapped around her throat.
Kiva had a single moment to panic before Naari’s weight was suddenly gone, her hands ripped from Kiva’s neck as she was hauled upward and away.
“Naari, stop!”
If Kiva hadn’t already been incapacitated by fear, she would have frozen at the sound of Jaren’s commanding voice. Through the darkened infirmary, she could see him wrestling with Naari, trying to contain her.