“Eris . . . ,” she whispered, and suddenly it didn’t matter that eight Lumina had her surrounded, or that they were closing in.
She needed to get to Eris.
Safire scanned the rain-drenched soldiers, her blood humming, ready to fight. All she had to do was disarm one of them. She did a quick scan and chose the youngest one—likely to be the most inexperienced—and had just lunged for him, fists swinging, when the storm took a sudden turn.
The ground shook. Lightning struck the meadow in several places at once, blinding her for the second time, the charge raising the hair on her arms. When her vision cleared, all eight Lumina soldiers were dead on the ground. And someone stood beside her.
Safire looked up to find Eris, her pale hair twisting about her face in the storm, her green eyes glowing. “But you . . .” Safire looked down, her heart stopping. Not only did Eris have a missing right hand, the wrist had already healed.
Safire started to reach for her when a sudden scream shattered everything. Both of them turned toward the sound. A shadow blacker than Kozu now stood across the meadow, growing bigger, gathering the dark around it, absorbing the power of the storm. Lightning flickered through the shadow, illuminating the silhouette of a man.
Unsure and afraid, Safire reached for Eris’s left hand, holding on tight.
“The Shadow God is free,” murmured Eris. “He’s come to make things right.”
Leandra fell to her knees before him, begging. Her scream was followed by another sound—the horrifying crush of several bones at once.
The lightning and thunder stopped.
The darkness broke.
When Safire looked again, someone was walking up the path and into the meadow. She stared determinedly toward the god of shadows, like he was the only thing she saw.
“That’s my mother,” whispered Eris, more to herself than to Safire.
At the sight of her, the Shadow God seemed to remember himself. He turned away from the empress, lying broken in the dirt, and began to walk toward the woman.
He halted suddenly, trembling. As if he—a god of chaos and destruction—was about to weep.
The woman didn’t stop. Her pace quickened as she called his name.
He took a step toward her. Then another. With every step he took, he became less of a shadow and more of a man. Finally, the woman closed the space between them. They stood there, staring at each other for a long time. And then, slowly, the Shadow God reached to touch her, taking her face in his hands.
Fifty-One
SIX WEEKS LATER
Safire ducked as the waster swung straight for her head, whistling as it did. It was twilight, and the rooftop was lit by the glow of several lanterns.
“I’m going to the training grounds today,” Asha said, stepping back, almost to the edge of the roof. She flicked her wrist, spinning her wooden training weapon. “We’re starting to build soon. I want you to look at the plans for the new school and tell me what you think.”
“I’ll try,” said Safire, thinking of all the things she needed to do before she and Roa left for the scrublands tomorrow.
It had been several weeks since the Shadow God defeated Leandra. After witnessing the demise of the god of tides, Safire had flown straight to Axis, only to discover that Roa had already broken herself and Dax out of the empress’s prison.
Because Roa was brilliant like that.
“Sorrow misses you,” Asha pressed.
Safire nodded, only half listening. Thinking instead of Eris.
She’d invited the former Death Dancer back to Firgaard, but Eris refused. With the Lumina scattered and the empress dead, there was so much work to do, and her place was in the Star Isles.
Safire understood. After all, she had a place, too—here in Firgaard.
That didn’t mean it didn’t sting, though.
Back when Eris was just an uncatchable thief stealing precious objects from under Safire’s nose, she’d loathed the girl. Now, she longed for that familiar presence trailing her through the palace halls. But no pirate thief watched her from the shadows anymore. She hadn’t heard a word from Eris since the day they’d said good-bye.
Now candidates for a new government were in the process of being chosen in the Star Isles and while Dax returned tomorrow to help oversee the vote, Safire and Roa were traveling to the scrublands with more rations. Dagan and other fishermen from the Star Isles had sent a second supply of salt fish, along with sacks of wheat and boxes of vegetables to tide the scrublanders over until the new seeds yielded their first harvest. Due to the fisherfolk’s generosity, Roa’s father was almost fully recovered, and the physician had reported that Lirabel and her baby were healthy again.
Asha swung her waster, scattering Safire’s thoughts.
In the golden light of the lanterns, Safire lunged for her cousin, who quickly and easily darted out from under her.
Though they were the same height and build, Safire had always been stronger, faster, and lighter on her feet. Asha was good at hunting and taking down prey. Safire was good at hand-to-hand combat. Today, though, Asha caught Safire’s blows easily.
She stepped back, frustrated. Normally she’d have broken through all of Asha’s defenses by now.
“You should take him with you,” Asha said as she stepped out of range of Safire’s next swing, deflecting it easily.
“Who?”
“Sorrow.” Asha shook her head, lowering her waster. “Haven’t you been listening?”
Safire stepped back, wiping sweat from her brow as Asha frowned. Beyond them, Firgaard’s copper domes and filigreed towers glowed warmly in the light of the rising sun.
“Ever since we returned from the Star Isles,” Asha continued, “you haven’t been yourself.”
This, Safire told herself, was due to the fact that she was no longer the king’s commandant. She had no duties, and therefore no routines. She felt adrift.
“Saf.” Asha knocked Safire’s waster out of her hand. It landed with a soft thud among the stones, bringing her out of her thoughts.
Safire glanced around the palace courtyard below, to see if anyone had seen her easy defeat, but it was dawn. The palace staff were only now rising from their beds.
It was just Safire and Asha here.
And then, suddenly, her legs were kicked out from under her. Her back hit the ground. Safire winced at the pain, then looked up to find Asha crouching over her, the tip of her waster pressed hard against Safire’s collarbone.
Safire stared up at her cousin, stunned by the trouncing.
Asha met her gaze, equally stunned.
In all their years of training, Asha had never beaten her.
“New move,” Asha explained. “I’ve been practicing with Torwin.”
Safire frowned up at her. “Wonderful. You can tell Torwin it worked. Now get off.” She was about to shove her cousin, when something at the roof edge made both of them look up.
The dragon king was climbing the steps to the terrace. His shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows and his curls were a mess, catching the sunlight. He looked as if their fighting had woken him, and he’d come to chase them back to bed.
“Perfect. An eyewitness.” Asha smiled at Safire. “Now you can’t deny it when I tell everyone I beat you into the dirt.”
This time, Safire did shove her.