“He did love you, Sam.”
He smiled bitterly.Just not in the way I wanted.
His men had found no traces of the assassin in Jantar. Most of the mountainside had been burned or shredded by landslides. Yassen Knight was dead—of their making.
“I suppose gods do feel remorse, then,” Elena said.
He choked out a laugh. “Yes, we do.”
She gently took the pod from him and slipped it into her pocket.
Stay, he thought suddenly, wildly. He did not want to be alone in these canyons tonight, alone in his grief, watching a black horizon crowded by sharp shadows and distant moons. Elena began to rise, but then he reached for her.
She turned, her mouth shaping into a retort, and paused.
“Let’s just sit here for a while. Before we go back.” His touch was light on the inner skin of her wrist. “The world can wait for us a while, Elena Aadya Ravence.”
She considered him for a long time. Her lips pursed, and for a moment, he thought she would leave him alone to face his monsters, but then a slow smile curved her lips. “Tired already, Prophet?”
“Exhausted.” He leaned back. “Take pity on me.”
She laughed. The sound rang through the canyons, soft and quick, like a beautiful bird darting through the sky—out of his reach.
“I have no pity for you, Samson Kytuu.”
“None at all?” His hand was still on her wrist, and he felt her pulse jump. He smiled. “Why not?”
She considered. In the low moonlight, her eyes were large, luminous. “You don’t pity gods who can destroy you.”
He leaned closer, his breath brushing her cheek. “You are as much a god as me, Elena. You can destroy me too.”
He heard her breath catch, and it sent a thrill through him. She was so close that he could feel the heat of her skin, smell the gentle aroma of her hair, like jasmine intermingled with sandalwood. Her Agni pulsed. Deep red soil and white sandstone, he need only to reach—
Elena stepped away, and his hand fell back to his side. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and he tried not to stare, failed miserably. She mumbled something about the temple and hurried off, dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. He did not call her back. But the image of her Agni stayed with him, so vital, so furiously bright, and he realized, with gentle dismay, that Chandi was right.
Perhaps he would need to tap into Elena’s Agni sooner than he thought.
CHAPTER 10
ELENA
The others have grown afraid of me. Perhaps it is out of reverence, but frankly, these fools do not have the spine to venerate me. They refuse to meet my eyes. Even the shadows do not dare creep closer.
—from the diaries of Priestess Nomu of the Fire Order
Elena tried to focus on the scrolls, but her thoughts, treacherous and twisting, returned to Samson. The hot brush of his breath against her cheek. His fingers on her pulse.
You are as much a god as me, Elena. You can destroy me too.
Despite the warmth of the temple fire, Elena shivered. She had no desire to go against a god, let alone destroy one. What would her people think, if she crushed their Prophet? She had seen their awe, their hope. It brought forth an ugly feeling, twisted, emulous, and though Elena tried to swallow it down, she could not push away the image of her people following a foreign Prophet.
Where would that leave her?
Without a throne, without a people, without a kingdom.
Alone, again.
Out of habit, she clasped Yassen’s holopod.What would you do?She rubbed her thumb across the pod’s scratched surface as if it could answer. Of course, it would not. It was not the first time she had wished Yassen was here, but now, Elena wished for it so strongly that her want became an ache that squeezed her chest until her breath became a thin rasp.
