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I sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I’m still trying to find my place, and sometimes I forget that the desert is nothing like the palace.”
Lara doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t walk away either.
“Everything is an illusion there. Everyone is seeking something in return, even for the smallest of favors.” I rub my brow, my mind going back to my sisters. I never could trust any of them, Tylea being the only exception. She has put herself in danger more than once to protect me, where others searched for anything to gain from the green-eyed princess.
“No relationship is real,” I add, curling my hands into fists. “No bond stronger than the lies everyone weaves.”
Lara drops her arms from her chest, picking up a pencil and sliding it into the case with the other tools. “What an awful place to live.”
I shrug.
“I would imagine you’d have people lining up to be your friend, with you being a life binder and all.”
“I didn’t tell anyone. Being a binder is a dangerous path. I’m sure you know.”
Lara crinkles her brow. “I’m not a binder.”
“I thought…” I stop myself, and start again, “After learning about Valdus, Inara, and Numair, I imagined everyone in the rebellion was a binder.”
She motions to the twins hanging from the ropes just under the dome. “You can add Keto and Joao to the short list. We’ve recently learned Zaria, the watchmaker’s daughter, can get a feel for water, but that’s about it.”
“What are the twins’ elements?”
“Glass and wood.”
Keto and Joao descend into the crowd that welcomes them with taps on their backs and loud laughter. Their binding has turned scraps of wood and glass into a colorful dome. Charmed by the beauty, I barely hear Lara when she speaks. “And Damen, of course.”
“The Priest of The House of Eternity?”
Lara nods and loops her arm through mine. A silly smile mirroring my own tells me that my earlier outburst is already forgotten.
Men roll large barrels closer toward Damen and Kyle deep in a discussion about something only clear to them. Numair brings two crowbars, and with one last pat on the shoulder, Kyle leaves the priest’s side to prop open a metal barrel. Water spills on the ground as he starts on the next one. Priya picks up another crowbar, her hair gaining a deeper shade of red under the shadowed light from the dome. She joins Numair’s efforts, and soon a puddle laps on our boots.
A single movement from the priest and every conversation ceases. Damen stretches his hands, his palms down, every muscle in his arm trembling. Under his command, the puddle turns into beads, splitting, shifting, multiplying and growing ever so smaller, until the first droplets lift in the air. I dare to touch one. Its surface bounces, but it only follows its ascent to the dome. With a loud clap, Damen brings his hands together, and the droplets burst into a cloud of mist that swirls as rebels move through the greenhouse. Shafts of lights pierce the man-made fog, dancing on every surface with an array of colors.
“Does everyone with any type of binding come to a position of power in this desert?” I say under my breath.
I don’t expect Lara to answer, but she does. “Our last leader wasn’t a binder. He died not so long ago. I’m sure he would have liked you.” Her smile turns wistful. “Erik loved Valdus as if he was his own son and helped Inara as much as she had once helped him with Numair.”
“You lost me there. Numair and Valdus are brothers?”
“For the time they spend together, one would think so, but no. Inara and Erik were siblings.” Her words erase the last of the smile. “When Numair’s mother, Helen, died, Inara helped her brother take care of Numair. Then, some parents chopped their baby’s arms off and left them in a bloodied basket on her doorstep with nothing but a note and a couple of silver coins.”
“His parents did that to Valdus?”
Lara nods. “We never found out who it was. There are still some who manage to keep their secrets close. Even secrets as big as this one.” A soft smile blooms on her lips. “He was lucky to end up with someone with a such a big heart as Inara.”
I nod absently, for I’ve felt Inara’s kindness myself, but something feels off about the story she’s telling me. “Wait. I thought the last leader died not so long ago, but it feels like Valdus has been your King for longer.”
“Three years, to be exact.” Lara glances around, and her hands reach for her hair. “I’m not sure I should be telling you all this.” When I offer her a hopeful smile, she sighs. “Well, it’s not like it’s a secret.” She hops on the table, patting a place next to her. Only when I’ve settled down does she say, “We always elect our second-in-command as soon as the title of the King has passed to someone new. Erik wasn’t the first one to get captured. We need someone to take the mantle and guide us through the darkest hours. We’ve already chosen Priya to replace Valdus if anything happens to him.”
“Erik only got captured. He wasn’t killed.”
Lara shakes her head. “Have you heard of anyone escaping our emperor’s dungeons?”
I swallow hard, looking at Numair. “That day when our paths crossed in The Broken Sands for the first time— “
“We just got the news,” Lara finishes for me.
