“When will you leak it?”
“When I find the perfect moment, I’ll let you know. Through the pod, okay. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
Elena grabbed his elbow, pinching the nerves, and he gasped, struck still. “What in the seven hells—”
“My people have chosen you, Varun. But they are impatient. If you don’t leak the reports in the next week, they might just choose someone else to be our champion.”
She let him go. Varun stumbled forward, rubbing his elbow.
“All right, all right, Phoenix Above.” He wiped his forehead. “Just—just give me two days. I’ll send you word.”
She stepped forward and he automatically stepped back, hands rising in defense. Smoothly, she reached out and buttoned his collar.
“Make sure you do, Varun.” She took out the pod from her pocket. “Or elsemypatience will wear thin.”
As she turned to go, Varun called out to her. “That… thing you did there. That was the Unsung, wasn’t it?”
Elena blinked. “What?”
“It’s—it’s a trick the boys use in certain places. To, uh, help relax clients. One of them told me it comes from the Unsung.” Varun eyed her suspiciously. “How do you know it?”
Elena simply walked away without answering, heart hammering as she pushed through the dancing masses and stumbled into the open air.
Shit, shit!
If Ferma were here, she would curse her down to the bottom of the seven hells. Berate her for potentially blowing her cover.
Everyone knew that only elite soldiers and warriors were trained in the Unsung. Them, and the royal family. Sure, some people knew of pressure points for party tricks, but what she had done wasdefinitelynot that. If Varun put two and two together, he might puzzle out who she was. And what would people say if the new monarch of Ravence was caught trying to dismantle her father’s beloved gold caps?
They’d turn against me, Elena thought bitterly. First the gold caps, then the populace, spurred on by Jangir. Only the rebels and anarchists would be on her side. And they were a group Elena would never want to be a part of.
I need the desert.
There, she could breathe. Think. Maybe salvage her mistake.
She reclaimed her stashed orb and then strode quickly past the bright bars, heading to the western outskirts of the city. She tugged her scarf free as the streets emptied. Eventually, the dunes curved up before her. The twin moons sloped into perfect, mirrored crescents. Nothing stirred or rustled in the night. The stillness felt like a blanket, its silence a cool relief. Elena breathed in the sharp, cold air, her stomach slowly unknotting. To the inexperienced eye, the desert looked endless. Overwhelming. But Elena knew that the curve of this dune differed from the one before it. She understood how the desert moved in the wind, how it shifted to form new masses. This was her home.
Elena hopped down a rocky face into the bowl of a dune. She came before a stone overhang. Three lines were chiseled into the rock. She had marked this place long ago when she had trained with Mahira’s sand raiders. The cave was small but deep.
Perfect to stash a secret.
Elena withdrew the orb as she ducked inside. Its light beat back the shadows to reveal a black tarp, which she flung aside. Beneath was a smooth silver cruiser. With a grin, she rested her hand on its glass control panel, and it flickered to life.
She placed the orb inside the back compartment and mounted. It had been a while since she had been riding, but as she gripped the worn leather handles, it all came back to her. Months in the desert flying over dunes, zipping through valleys, barreling through sand hovels. The wild, precarious nature of it. The thrill of it. The freedom.
Elena pressed the pedal, and the cruiser jolted forward. She shot up the lip of the dune, and then she was off.
Wind whipped back her scarf and the hood of her cloak. Sand sprayed her face. The dunes rose and melted past her as she followed their curves and valleys. The sky opened up for her. The stars spilled out, and Elena felt a contagious sense of euphoria bubble up in her throat.
Here, there were no guards, no generals, no king who could hold her back. Here, it was only her. Her and the wide, unspooling desert.
After some time, when she was sure she had not been followed, Elena slipped into a valley and killed the engine. She estimated she had ventured several miles. The dunes towered above her, blocking out the twin moons, but not the stars. They scattered above her and shone with such brilliance that she almost forgot about fire. Its orange, shifting light paled in comparison to the radiance of the heavens.
Perhaps this was what Alabore Ravence had felt when he first came to the desert. He must have realized that the night held the same power as the day. And so he had sought the help of the twin moons to build his kingdom—his dream of peace.
Elena opened the back compartment and looked down at the orb, at its single flickering flame. She grabbed it, as well as the pulse gun stashed beneath, then moved toward a dune, stepping lightly so that her feet only left shallow depressions in the sand.
As she neared the top of the dune, Elena froze. There, on the other side, silhouetted against the night, was a man. She could make out the light hair, the pale skin of a familiar ghostlike figure. Yassen sat on the crest with his back to her. He looked perfectly relaxed, as if he had been lounging in this desert for countless suns.
