He lowered his sword. “You think love is as fragile as that? Like a stalk of wheat, easily broken in a storm? That’s not what love is.”
Dax stepped in closer.
“Real love is the strongest kind of steel. It’s a blade that can be melted down, its form changed with every bang of the hammer, but to break it is a task no one is capable of. Not even Death.”
Roa stared at him. What was he saying? That he loved her—even now?
“You’re a fool,” she whispered, the words stinging her throat.
And then, with his sword lowered, she shoved him hard enough to send him stumbling.
Roa found her scythe lying in the grass. In a heartbeat, she had her alabaster hilt in her hand, the curved blade raised and ready to strike.
But Dax struck first. Roa barely caught the flash of steel coming at her.
Their swords clashed. Dax forced her back, relentlessly thrusting. Roa ducked, forever moving so he couldn’t back her into another wall.
It was then that she realized just how much he’d been holding back.
She could barely fend him off.
His furious blade came down on hers, knocking it out of her hand. He shoved her, just as she’d shoved him. Roa tripped and went down hard. Pain shot through her elbows.
A heartbeat later, he had her pinned beneath him. One hand kept her wrists trapped above her head while the other held his blade across her collarbone.
Shocked at the quick defeat, Roa stared up at him. They were nose to nose now, breathing hard.
“You’re not the kind of girl who grasps at power for its own sake,” he said, the heat of him rolling over her. “Why have you done this?”
Here, the light of the garden torches made his skin glow gold. Just for a moment, he seemed almost godlike above her. As if Namsara himself, the golden god of day, had come down to this pit of darkness just to interrogate her.
Roa gave in to him.
“You weren’t who I thought you were,” she whispered, her gaze tracing his face.And then, suddenly, you were.“I thought you’d broken all your promises. I thought you didn’tcare. I thought you were a dangerous king.”
The pressure on her throat let up—just a little.
“And even when I realized the truth... I still needed to save my sister.”
He went rigid at those words. “What?”
“Essie never crossed.” She held his gaze, daring him todisbelieve her. But Dax knew the stories of her people. Knew about the Skyweaver and uncrossed souls and the reason for the Relinquishing. “She’s trapped. I have to set her free.”
There was a fierce crease in his brow now. With his blade still pressed to her throat, he said, “Go on.”
She looked beyond him, to the lightening sky, thinking of the Skyweaver’s knife sheathed beneath her dress. Of what she must do once the sun set tonight.
“When someone dies in another’s place, an... exchange can be made. But it must happen on the Relinquishing.”
She could see him trying to recall everything he knew about the Relinquishing. Everything her tutors had taught him, all those years ago.
“It was supposed to be you,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes. “Not her. You were the one who was supposed to die.”
“Like Sunder,” he said. It surprised Roa. She hadn’t expected him to remember that story. “The man who eluded Death. So Death took someone else in his stead.”
Before Roa could answer him, a sound broke the moment. Footsteps rang out through the arcade, and with them came voices. One voice made both Dax and Roa stiffen.
Rebekah.
