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“I shouldn’t have left without saying anything,” Arsene says when they’re alone.
He shoves the bowl of food into Arsene’s hands. “It’s not like that.”
Arsene goes quiet as he shovels the stuff into his mouth greedily. He drains the water Nur brought him and his face begins to flush with new color in the milky dawn. Nur watches him eat likehe’s the one who’s starving.
Finally he hands Arsene the two sweets, misshapen from his pocket.
“These are for me?” Arsene looks puzzled.
“Just eat them.” Nur scowls.
He does, his frown melting away as each one dissolves on his tongue. Hope glimmers in his eye, making Nur’s insides churn and ache.
“Tell me what it’s like, then.” Arsene leans in and grips Nur’s knee with a strong hand. His breath is warm and smells faintly of aniseed.
“You could destroy me by leaving.” Nur breathes deeply, feeling like there are knives in his lungs. Arsene’s hand squeezes painfully tight on his knee. “I don’t want to live in fear of that.”
“So, what? What can I do?”
“The caravan moves on in a few days. Your mission takes you in the opposite direction. Back to New Yden.”
“But afterward, I’m yours.” Arsene looks desperate. His eyes are pleading. And Nur knows what he’s doing willhurtArsene, pin him open and scrape him clean.
He has to, though. How can he claim to belong to Arsene if he’s only clinging to the bond in terror, feeding on Arsene’s essence, his soul, his heart, knowing he’ll wither away if any of them are ripped from him?
“When the caravan leaves, I’m leaving with them. I’ll wait for you to finish your mission. I’ll stay alive however I can. But I won’t trail you like a dog—I can’t.” He rubs his face with his knuckles, unable to bear Arsene’s searing gaze. “The bond will thin. Maybe even break. But I can handle it. I can standthe hunger better now, and I’ll hunt when it gets unbearable. Demons, if I have to.”
Arsene is terrible at hiding his emotions from the bond. His pain emblazons itself sharp and awful on Nur’s mind. It takes all he has not to refute his own words immediately.
But Arsene’s hand on his jaw forces him to look up. His eyes are fierce, not accusing. “I can help you.”
Chapter 42
ARSENE
The glass bottlesrattle together when Arsene sets them on the bench. Irvin pulls one out of its nest immediately and holds it up to the light. Both sets of liquids are totally clear, nothing to differentiate them except the color of the lid—Arsene checked.
“This is what makes angels into sentinels?” Irvin looks skeptical.
If the Seraphim Council ever found out he’d explained this to a human, they’d do worse than discipline him. Yet it’s surprisingly easy to let the words flow out of him.
“It makes them into primus,” he corrects Irvin. “Primus were once born naturally, but when their numbers dwindled, the Seraphim Council started trading Fairhaven for the drugs they used on their soldiers. Combined with water from the Ydenspring, this serum will turn nulls into primus.”
Like me.
“Afterward, all primus are required to go through the sentinel training program that shapes them into protectors of the realm,” he continues.
Irvin frowns. “If they’re already trading with Fairhaven, why send you to find this old store?”
Arsene grimaces. This definitely counts as telling secrets. But he needs Irvin’s help. “Fairhaven’s terms of trade are for more seraphim glass to expand the borders of the city. The Council doesn’t want expansion. Humans are…untrustworthy.”
Nur snorts. Irvin doesn’t so much as twitch. “I understand that. They fear a repeat—another war, another cataclysm.”
“We wouldn’t survive a second such disaster. With our own store of the serum, the Council can close the gate to Fairhaven. Pull back from the Seraphim Wall.”
“Leave Fairhaven to crumble under the weight of their own population,” Irvin concludes.
He shrugs uncomfortably. “I doubt the Council cares for their fate.”
