Instead, with danger lurking just beyond the darkness, she slid her arms around Torwin’s waist, pressing him tighter against her. His tracing fingers stopped. He went completely still. After several heartbeats, he tilted his face to hers.
Ever so slowly, he dragged the bridge of his nose along her cheekbone, asking a silent question. Sparks skittered through her. Her blood turned to fire. She arched her neck in answer, brushing her cheek across his.
He turned, leaning his forehead against hers. Their noses touched as his hands slid through her hair, cradling her face.
“She’s here,” Jarek’s voice rang out.
Torwin went rigid. Asha’s arms tightened around him.
“See the lantern? She’s hiding somewhere. Get me some kindling.”
“Yes, commandant.” The sound of booted footsteps echoed off the walls.
“If she wants to play with fire,” muttered Jarek, “I’ll beat her at her own game.”
He’s going to smoke us out,Asha realized.
She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let Torwin get caught. If Jarek found him, he was as good as dead. Maybe worse than dead.
There was only one way out of this.
Breaking Torwin’s grip on her, Asha pushed herself up onto her toes and whispered against his cheek, “I’ll come for you at nightfall. Be ready to fly.”
Before he could stop her, she took a deep breath and stepped out of the fissure, into the light of Jarek’s torch.
Twenty-Six
Cool air rushed against her skin, its chill replacing Torwin’s warmth. Jarek stood at the entrance to the caves, his back to her, as if afraid to set foot inside.
“Your thief is right here,” she said.
Jarek spun. His eyes narrowed as he took in her mantle, her unbraided hair.
“You’ve committed a crime against the king,” he said. “Against your own father. Why?”
Footsteps echoed through the caves. They belonged to one of his soldats, carrying a bundle of kindling in both arms. The soldat stopped, staring into the inner sanctum. “The sacred flame,” he whispered, eyes widening.
Jarek’s eyes sliced into Asha, waiting for the answer to his question. When she didn’t supply it, he grabbed her arm and marched her through the narrow crypt passages, toward the vaulted stairway that led up into the temple.
Asha didn’t fight him. The sooner he dragged her out of here, the sooner Torwin could get to the tunnel and escape.
Jarek searched her for weapons and found none, so he took her mantle instead. In the archway of the throne room, his fingers yanked at the tassels around her throat. He stripped it off her and threw Asha to the cold stone floor before the pedestal holding the empty basin.
The floor connected with her knees and she bit down an angry cry.
“What is this?” Her father’s slippered footsteps echoed softly through the room.
“Here’s your thief,” said Jarek.
Her father stood over her. She didn’t raise her eyes from his finely stitched slippers protruding beneath the golden hem of his robe.
“Asha? Surely there’s been some mistake. Asha, get up.”
She didn’t. How could she face him? She kept her forehead pressed into the tile work.
“I found her beneath the temple, and the sacred flame in the inner cave.”
“Impossible.”
