The sun peeked over the dunes and slowly chased away the night’s long shadows. She saw Yassen stretch like a cat, the light picking out the gold in his hair. When he noticed her looking, he stopped. A strange emotion shone in his eyes, but she couldn’t identify it from this distance.
“I’ll go on alone from here,” she said.
“You should be careful with fire,” he said, apropos of nothing.
She shook her head. It was an unnecessary warning. “Trust me, I know.”
She left him standing there as sunlight spilled into the narrow alleyway and the city began to wake.
CHAPTER 16
LEO
Beware the Desert Spider. For she is fearless, and therefore, powerful.
—a Ravani proverb
The hoverpod is ready, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, Arish,” Leo said, and his Astra dipped his head, walking away down the tarmac.
Leo turned back to look out at the dunes spreading beyond Palace Hill. Had it been another day, he would have relished the view. Traced the curves of the dunes with his eyes and listened to the wind nipping at his ears. But the urn was heavy in his hands. Its contents even more burdensome.
The girl with hair of starlight had not been the Prophet. He had collected her ashes himself into this urn and tried not to think about her flailing arms, her hair that had lit like a torch.
“Forgive me, damn me.” He uncapped the urn and touched the rim. “Do what you must. But I hope you find peace, wherever you are, dear girl. May you find the fire that you believed so beautiful.” He hesitated, fingers hovering above the ashes. “And if you are with the Phoenix Herself, I hope She is everything you dreamed Her to be.”
Leo raised the urn and slowly spilled out its contents. “So we the blessed few,” he murmured.
The grey flakes wavered in the air for a moment before dancing away with the wind. He watched them go and felt a great weight descend on his shoulders, worse than any he had carried in all his suns as king. How many more would he be forced to burn before he found the Prophet? How many more would die when the Prophet came into power?
Surely, the life of a girl will not matter against the lives of thousands. And yet… Leo blinked, throat tight. He was finding it harder to believe these days.
With heavy feet, he walked not to the waiting hoverpod but back into the palace. He needed to see Elena. To hold his daughter in his arms and be reminded that she—she was his anchor now. The reason he spilled ash into the singing wind.
He found her dancing. Her guru, a small woman older than he, sang out the rhythm as Elena spun, eyes closed, mouth relaxed. She looked beautiful. Achingly beautiful, like Aahnah. They both seemed so free when they danced.
Leo watched from the doorway, his chest twisting. He was finding it harder to breathe when the guru noticed him standing there. She stopped singing and shot to her feet.
“Your Majesty,” she said, bowing. She scanned his face. “Is everything all right?”
Ferma and Yassen, who had been sitting on the benches, rose as well. The musicians stopped playing. Elena turned in confusion, and when she saw him, her face closed like a shuttered window. It hurt. Mother’s Gold, that hurt.
“Father.” Elena glanced at the guru, the musicians, and her guards. They hurriedly took their leave. When they were alone, his daughter turned to him. “What is it?”
“I,” Leo began and stopped. He had come here on a sudden whim, a rush of emotion, really, which was unlike him, but then he remembered the young girl, the urn, and then he was striding across the room.
Elena startled, but he kissed his three fingers and placed them against her head.
“I,” he said, voice thin, “I need to bless you. Saayna’s orders.”
It was a lie, but he could not bear to tell her the truth.
“Oh.” And just like that, the hope that had glimmered for a brief moment in her eyes fizzled. “I thought you came to reconsider my request. About learning how to hold fire.”
He wanted to tell her that she was better without it. That fire burned, in more ways than one. He may have learned how to withstand its heat, but the inferno devoured him from the inside, plaguing his thoughts.
He wanted to tell her that he only dreamed of ash now, flailing shadows trapped within a light. And that when he woke, he tasted soot on his tongue.
