Page 114 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin

He opened his eyes to find her looking at him. She peered over at Abishek and gave her a bemused look before she reached up to speak directly into his ear.

“I was worried pressing against his magic might alert him, but it doesn’t seem so. At least not so far.”

Then she smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Something happened there.”

“It did.”

“It wasn’t much.”

“No, but it was something.”

She huffed out a breath. “Okay, we’ll keep trying. It feels like we’re close.”

He nodded. “But first, get some sleep. We have no idea what’s ahead of us.”

She pressed her mouth together and looked up into his eyes.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know. But we’re in this together until the end.”

She laid a hand against his heart. “Until my very last breath.”

When Zarya opened her eyes, it felt like she’d been asleep for only minutes. Her entire body ached from stress and worry and the fact that she had no idea what awaited them.

The others were already stirring, sitting down to breakfast with mugs of tea steaming in the crisp morning air. Ekaja had kept them warm last night, and though she didn’t deserve it, Zarya tipped the slightest nod of thanks in her direction.

Slowly, she made her way over to the fire and warmed her hands. Abishek watched while she glared at him. His expression was impossible to read. Did he feel any remorse for what he had done? About what he still planned to do? It was one thing to seek out world domination, but to use your own child to do it?

She supposed she didn’t mean anything to him. That she had never meant anything to him. She’d fooled herself into believing he’d cared about her. She longed for Row and the comfort of his steady presence—if she survived this, she’d never take him for granted again. She’d beg his forgiveness for dismissing his warnings. He’d been right all along.

She reached for her necklace, still lamenting its absence. A tear slipped down her cheek as she saw her mother huddled in the corner of the tower. Finally, unable to stand looking at the king a moment longer, she tore her gaze away. They ate in silence until it was time to pack up and continue moving.

They exited the cavern and traipsed down the tunnel to find the glaring morning sun. Zarya lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness against the sparkling blanket of snow. A fresh layer covered everything, rendering the world into soft, puffy clouds. At least the wind had died down a little.

They wasted no time, making their way up another mountain pass, carving higher and higher into the soaring peaks. The air grew thinner, the wind more biting, and Zarya’s sense of foreboding thrummed to the backs of her teeth.

She pulled her coat tighter as she stumbled over a chunk of ice, nearly losing her balance. Rabin was behind her immediately, an arm banding around her waist.

“Got you,” he rumbled as she resisted the urge to turn to him and cry.

She wanted to know what lay at the end of this. The anticipation was almost the worst part.

She lost track of the minutes and hours as the sun climbed overhead. Finally, they reached the end of the path, exiting onto a cliff overlooking a sprawling mountain valley.

Hundreds of snowy peaks stretched in every direction. The damp air fogged around them, creating tiny particles of ice that clung to their hair and eyelashes. They had nearly reached the clouds. Zarya exchanged a look with Rabin, and then she followed Abishek and Catana across a cliff where, inexplicably, a narrow rope bridge ran out from the edge.

She stared at it, swinging in the wind, the far end obscured by the mist.

“This is it,” Abishek said, turning to face her. “The entrance to Taaranas.”

Zarya folded her arms tighter as the tears she’d been clinging to pressed the backs of her eyes. He expected them to walk out onto that? It looked like it would snap under the weight of a ghost.

“I won’t do it,” Zarya said. “You can force me in there, but I won’t free the Ashvins and will never give you access to the darkness.”

Abishek offered what she could only describe as a disappointed smile. “When I first learned I was a father, I had such high hopes,” he said. “I thought you would be someone in my image. Someone who understood everything I did. I thought all my dreams would fall into place when you came to me.”

Slowly, he approached her, his feet crunching over the snow. They stood somewhat sheltered from the wind, but it was just as cold as ever. He reached out to run a finger down her jaw. She jerked back, her skin crawling at his touch.