“I don’t care what you said,” she told him firmly. “You can ignore me all you want, but we’re stuck together for the foreseeable future, and one way or another, we’re going to have this conversation. My preference is now, but if you —”
“She nearly killed me, Kiva,” Tor burst out, turning to her with a ravaged expression. “Our sister — our own flesh and blood. For years, she’s been murdering people, and I had no idea. She lied to me for over a decade — how do you think that makes me feel? How ashamed I am? How guilty I am? Their blood might as well be on my hands.”
“Tor,” Kiva whispered.
“Don’t,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t tell me it’s not my fault. I should have known — I should have stopped her. If I had, none of this would have happened. And maybe Mother —” He broke off, but not quickly enough to hide his agony.
Kiva knew what he’d been about to say: Maybe Mother would still be alive.
“Listen to me,” she said fiercely, moving as close as Zephyr would allow. “Zuleeka kept her power hidden for a reason — she didn’t want you to know. So while I understand wanting to blame yourself” — that was an understatement, given her own torturous feelings — “you’re not responsible for anything she did. And as for Mother . . .” Kiva made sure she had Tor’s full attention before she went on, “The moment she used death magic for the first time, that was the beginning of the end for her. There’s nothing you could have done.”
“But I —”
“No buts,” Kiva said. “What you’re feeling is valid, but it’s also wrong.” Her voice gentled as she said, “You’re a good person, Tor. And if you don’t believe me, answer this: if you could have kept Zuleeka from hurting anyone, would you have?”
Tor looked incredulous. “Of course! I already said I —”
“Then instead of feeling guilt and shame,” Kiva spoke over him, “hold on to that. Because more than anything else, that reveals your integrity — and your heart.”
Torell opened his mouth, but then closed it again, his expression thoughtful as he considered Kiva’s words. Finally, he admitted, “Maybe you were right.”
“I often am,” Kiva said. “But about what, specifically?”
“I needed to talk about this,” Tor said. “Even if I didn’t want to.”
“Hard conversations are never easy,” Kiva said.
Tor snorted. “That’s a terrible sentence.”
Kiva was relieved to see his humor, weak as it was.
But then Tor sobered and said, “It’s going to take time to reconcile how I feel, but I promise I’ll try. And I don’t know what it says about me, but it helps knowing Zuleeka’s going to pay for what she’s done. She might be our sister, but actions have consequences, and one day soon she’s going to learn that.”
His voice was so hard toward the end that Kiva shivered, remembering that there was a reason he was the rebel general, and it wasn’t because of his friendly demeanor.
Thinking it best to change the topic, Kiva said, “Is anything else on your mind?” She then added, “I haven’t had the chance to ask how you feel about Galdric being, well, alive.”
Tor’s gaze shifted to the man in question, who was riding far enough ahead to be out of hearing range. “Honestly? I’m not sure what to feel.”
“You were close, once, weren’t you?”
“I thought so,” Tor answered. “But since he was also lying to me that whole time, he’s not my favorite person right now. If he’d told me about Zuleeka’s magic years ago, then —” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I can’t change the past. But I can still be annoyed by it.”
“That’s a life motto right there,” Kiva said dryly.
Tor’s lips tipped up. But then he asked, “How are you feeling about everything? Zalindov? Navok? Zuleeka?” Tentatively, he added, “Jaren?”
Kiva froze, not having expected him to turn the questioning on her. “I’m —”
She was saved from answering — and lying — by the return of Caldon and Cresta, who warned about a nearby patrol and suggested they take a break until the Gray Guards moved on.
When it was safe to continue, Kiva quickly positioned Zephyr until she was beside Eidran, praying her brother would forget that she’d never responded to his questions. When Ashlyn engaged Torell in conversation and rode forward with him, Kiva loosed a relieved breath. Eidran looked at her strangely, but said nothing — and continued saying nothing as the hours passed, his presence calming and steadfast, his companionable silence leaving her feeling more content than she’d been in a long time. It didn’t matter that her backside started to ache and her muscles were stiffening up — she almost began to enjoy the scenery from her peaceful place beside him.
But then the landscape began to change as they traveled deeper into the craggy gray wasteland of southern Mirraven, making Kiva shudder as she remembered her recent journey north. They wouldn’t be venturing anywhere near Zadria this time, but still, when she closed her eyes, she could see Navok’s handsome face . . . and she could feel his fist slamming into her cheek. It barely hurt anymore, the Serpent’s Kiss lingering in her system enough to continue accelerating her healing. Even her shoulder only smarted a little toward the end of the day’s ride, which was significantly better than Kiva had feared.
The first night sleeping out in the open was unpleasant, the ground hard, the Mirraven air chilly despite the fire Caldon kept ablaze with his magic. The canvas shelters they’d brought remained in their packs, with Ashlyn deciding they wouldn’t waste time setting up a full camp unless the weather required it. That left them all attempting to find a place around the fire where the rocky earth didn’t dig painfully into their travel-sore bodies.
Riding all day had left Kiva exhausted, but after a quick meal of bread, cheese, and dried meats, she wasn’t able to fall sleep as swiftly as those around her. It wasn’t just that every pebble beneath her felt like a boulder, or that Galdric snored loud enough to wake the dead. It was that Jaren was barely five feet away. The last time they’d slept so close — closer, even — had been the night she’d fallen asleep in his arms after Queen Ariana’s magical attack. That felt like a lifetime ago now.
Unable to quiet her mind, when Kiva finally managed to drift off, she was plagued by nightmares. She was back at Zalindov. Navok was ordering Xuru to attack her. Zuleeka’s shadows were choking her. The dreams continued all night, disturbing her sleep and causing her to jolt violently awake when someone shook her shoulder.
“It’s dawn,” Caldon said, tugging her blanket away.
“’S time t’go?” she slurred, squinting blearily up at him.
“Not yet,” Caldon answered over the snores still echoing around them. “It’s training time, Sunshine.”
Kiva groaned and tried to reclaim her blanket, but he tossed it out of reach.
“Up,” he ordered, throwing some fresh clothes at her. “You’ve got five minutes.”
Kiva didn’t want to hate one of the few people who could still stand being around her, but Caldon made it difficult for her not to wish all kinds of unpleasantness upon him. She called him every foul name she could think of under her breath as she stumbled down to the stream they’d camped near, and it was only after she’d splashed frigid water on her face and changed into another of Ashlyn’s leathery outfits that she finally felt human enough to remember why she needed to train.