“But you should hate me. You have to hate me,” I tell him.
“And what if I don’t want to?” he whispers, staring into my eyes. “What if I want to believe redemption is possible? That after everything they took from our people, they didn’t get to keepyou. Finding out we still had a queen was the first time I’d felt hope in years.”
There’s nothing I could possibly say to that. Emotions swarm my brain, so chaotic and lost I can’t put them into words. There’s an emptiness inside me and if I don’t stay balanced, I’m going to fall into it and drown, like falling in the middle of the pool, thrashing and unable to save myself without his help.
If me existing made him hope, I’ll do whatever it takes to prove him right. Not for my own glory. Not even just because it’s the right thing to do, though it would have been enough. But now, more than anything, I never want this man to realize how foolish and wrong he is to believe in someone like me. Tears prick at my eyes. The smile he gives me is painful, his mouth curling up while his eyes hold nothing but sorrow.
“Enough guilt,” Roiven says, brushing his thumb against the corner of my eye to collect the tear. “We can’t change the past. Give me your fire instead, Cai. Let me finish your hair.”
With a gulp and a nod, I turn. He sets down the brush and deftly braids my red-brown hair down my back. I can’t remember the last time anybody did this for me. The feeling of his hands gently tugging at my scalp, his warmth at my back…
There’s a knock at the door, and then it swings open.
“Roiven!” It’s Aria. I glance over to see her armed to the teeth, her hair tied sharply back. “What’s taking so long?” She holds a pair of boots in her hands that might be for me, since she’s already wearing some on her feet.
“Nothing. We’re ready,” Roiven says to his sister.
“Then let’sgo,” Aria says. With one last glance at me, Roiven strides toward his doorway. When I reach Aria she shoves the boots into my hand.
I follow them both, up to the caldera—and to war.
39
Fromthe sun’s position it’s only around noon, but the few hours of sleep I got are better than nothing. Witches mull around the caldera, armed and ready, as the four adult dragons stretch their wings.
“Has anybody seen Javien?” someone calls, wandering through the crowd. “Or Vaor? I can’t find them.”
Roiven pulls me by the hand to the center, after Aria, to where the other members of the coven are gathered.
“Two on each dragon,” Aria suggests to the group of us waiting there.
“That’s not a fighting force,” Torain responds.
“We need the difference in speed, however small. And more importantly, we need the space so we can evacuate Aveinor.”
“If the Hellions reach Aveinor first, space won’t matter.”
“I’d rather bargain on us saving Aveinor than plan around us failing,” Aria says. “Roiven?”
All eyes turn to him.
“If we can move them to another island before the Hellions areclose enough to see, we can wage the battle at Aveinor without them realizing it’s an empty target.”
“It’s not empty if we’re there with the ancients,” another witch points out. “We're already getting too weak to beat them,withoutanother major loss.”
“Empty of civilians,” Roiven amends. “I don’t want another Lusern.”
“And then what? Four dragons and eight witches against the entire imperial fleet?” Torain asks. “That’s madness.”
“If we bring everyone we can fit to give us better odds in the fight, we can’t do an evacuation,” Roiven says. “Saving the civilians comes first.”
“If welose, the evacuation doesn’t matter. It’ll just delay another disaster, not stop it.”
“We're stronger than we seem.” Roiven glances at me and raises an eyebrow. I blink at him, then realize he’s giving me a chance to weigh in. But I haven’t earned that right. I keep my mouth shut.
“Eight of us. I’ll ride with Caiteven. Imili, Torain, Avreen, each of you can take another coven member. We need the most powerful of us there.”
There’s a moment of silence, not subdued but tense, like staring at a monster wave grow and grow before it breaks. Everyone is staring at me, or at Roiven, eyes wide, jaws open.
