“You keep that up, and you’ll set this place on fire.”
Elena spun around, and the flame sputtered and died in a pile of ash.
Yassen sat as before, but his eyes were open. He held Elena in his gaze. For a moment, she felt like she couldn’t move, that ice had lodged into the space between her bones as she stared into his strange, colorless eyes.
“So that’s how the Ravani learn to hold fire,” he said.
Elena did not reply as she rolled up the scroll, sliding it into her cloak. Yassen overturned the orb, ash spilling onto the cave floor.
“I’ve never heard of dancing being involved, though,” he continued.
“Only the royal family can do it,” she retorted hastily.
“So not us lowly commoners?” He looked up at her. “Don’t you think that’s a bit unfair?”
“We were the ones who were blessed.” She grabbed the orb and stowed it away.
“But the Prophet can be anyone,” he said. “They could be a commoner and learn to wield fire.”
She scoffed. “As if you believe in the Prophet.”
Yassen smiled faintly and looked down at his hands. Elena saw the mark on his wrist. The blackened skin.
“Have you been burned?” she whispered. When he didn’t respond, Elena crouched before him and lightly tapped his arm. “How?”
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“You’re lying,” she said and grabbed his wrist. He resisted, but when she shot him a look, he allowed her to roll up his sleeve. She gave a tiny gasp.
His arm was covered with burn marks—deep red welts larger than her fingers. In the spaces between the marks, his skin was shriveled and brown.
“What happened?”
He hesitated. When he finally met her gaze, his eyes were cold. “The Arohassin.”
“They burned you?”
“No, but—I was foolish. The job, something went wrong. I should have left when the alarms went off, but the Arohassin told me I would be free. One last job, and then it was over.” He shook his head. “I was so desperate. So stupid.”
She dropped his arm. Yassen looked down, concentrating on unrolling his sleeve. It occurred to her how little she knew about him beyond Muftasa’s reports. She had never consideredwhyhe had defected. He could be playing them all, could still be working for the Arohassin, but one thing she knew for certain: Yassen Knight was too capable to be a blind follower. The Arohassin’s ruthlessness may have hardened him, but it could have also nurtured a deep resentment—a resentment he now turned against them.
“No wonder you’re afraid of fire,” she whispered. Though the wind still roared, she sensed it beginning to tire. The storm would end soon.
“I—I,” she began and stopped. Yassen watched her closely, waiting. “I’m afraid of the inferno too. Afraid of the burn. It hurts, when it shouldn’t. Not for me, at least. My father can hold it without so much as a blister, but I…” She shook her head, suddenly overwhelmed by frustration. Her incompetence. “It’s supposed to be my birthright, but I can’t eventoucha single fucking flame without getting singed. I don’t understand how he does it. Only that I need to learn his secret before my coronation.”
Yassen was quiet for a long moment.
“The path of fire burns everyone in the end,” he said finally. “Isn’t that what the scriptures say?”
Elena gave him a pained smile because she knew it was true.
They passed the time in wordless silence until the wind fell and the sky cleared. Through the mouth of the cave, they saw the faint colors of dawn splinter along the horizon. Elena started the cruiser as Yassen dusted sand from his clothing.
“We will not speak of this,” she said. “Any of it.”
He nodded and got on behind her. They zipped through the desert that lay open for them with new, unbaptized curves. It was so peaceful, so still, as if there had never been a storm.
Elena breathed in and felt Yassen inhale with her. His chest pressed against her back, his hands resting lightly on her hips. He was warm and, ever so slightly, she pressed into him as the chill morning air whipped her face. She thought she felt Yassen smile, his lips inches from her neck. When they reached the city outskirts, Elena stashed the cruiser in a run-down hut that had long been abandoned by its owners. She had no fear of anyone stealing it; any thief would need her fingerprints to start the vehicle.
