Page 49 of Blood of the Sands

But I had known he was a man under the metal, as I had met those bottomless eyes under the moonlight and felt the warmth of his hand at my throat, sensation heightened by the knowledge that I was about to die. That gaze had visited me in my dreams more times than I cared to admit in the past months, although likely because he was the first person I met after so long in isolation—and because I feared what his victory might mean for Kelvadan.

“Erix,” I mouthed quietly. It felt right to know the name of the person who was the first to know mine, even if the knowledge felt strangely like a weapon.

“We have to try.” Queen Ginevra’s voice came once again, slightly pleading this time. “If we just—"

The stable door slammed open to let the sounds of laughter and carefree joking tumble in. More hunters must have returned. There would be no more eavesdropping on this conversation, although it already had my mind swirling.

I slipped out of the stables, only sparing the other recruits a nod as they bragged about their kills or bemoaned their bad luck at not moving on in the Trials. As I considered the coming weeks of competition, the knowledge of who I truly faced in this competition sat heavy in my belly.

The next day held no competitive events, giving all the visitors to the city their first uninterrupted chance to peruse the stalls of the temporary market. Sitting dumbly in Neven’s stall, barely processing his requests as I folded and moved bolts of cloth, I was glad for the reprieve. My arms were as leaden as the stone of the city wall, and I didn’t think they would be much good with a sword today.

It wasn’t yesterday’s exertion that weighed them down, but the heaviness of my thoughts. Despite knowing I would need my rest for the coming events, sleep had not found me easily last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I snapped them open again, fearing I would find the face of the Viper in my dreams again. His nighttime visits had been disconcerting before, but knowing the man I had been sharing strangely intimate conversations with was the queen’s son left me with an odd hollowness in the pit of my stomach. Anger threatened to fill that hollowness at the thought that the Viper had run away from such a home, only to fight for its destruction and steal away my only hope for belonging.

I had the thought that I needed to come to a decision before facing him again, but I had no idea what that decision might be. I knew I had to face him in the Trials and emerge victorious, no matter who he was under the mask. But the image of him flickered in my mind’s eye when I thought of him now oscillated between a faceless warrior—larger than life with hands soaked in blood—and the man I knew lived underneath, whose mother just wanted to believe he could come home.

“I asked for the blue silk, Keera, and unless the heat is getting to me, that’s red.” Neven gestured to the bundle of fabric in my arms. I looked down to find that he was right.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, hurrying to grab the right bolt of silk.

Neven narrowed his eyes at me, not unkindly, as if he could see through my skin to the whirling thoughts beneath. He opened his mouth, but before he could pry, a familiar voice cut him off.

“Keera!”

I turned to find Hadeon standing in the makeshift road between rows of stalls. He luckily had traded out his snowy furs for a light robe in the style of the clansmen that protected his fair skin from the sun. The tunic he wore underneath remained unlaced at the neck, revealing a smattering of light hair on his sternum.

I found myself smiling, despite my earlier consternation. “How are you finding the Trials?”

His attention set off a fluttering under my sternum, mixed with a healthy dose of hope. Perhaps his warmth toward me was a sign that he could be swayed to Kelvadan’s cause.

“Hot,” he admitted, fanning himself with a rueful smile. “Lyall has decided to remain in the palace and out of the sun unless there are competitive events to watch. My curiosity got the better of me today though, and I had to come see what the clans had to offer. Care to show me around?”

I glanced at Neven, ready to tell Hadeon that I needed to stay and help at the textile stall. However, Neven’s eyebrows were raised with a smile toying at the edge of his lips. “Go ahead and take a break, Keera. You deserve to enjoy the Trials, considering you’re competing in them.”

I nodded in thank you, quickly stepping around the bench laden with textiles to join Hadeon in the dusty thoroughfare. With a friendly grin, he gestured for me to lead the way, and we began strolling down the wide row between vendors. I imagined Neven’s gaze heavy on the back of my neck, but when I glanced behind me, he was helping his next customer already.

“What are these?” Hadeon paused next to a low table laden with handmade jewelry. The violet banner flying from the peak atop the stall marked the vendor as a member of Clan Vecturna, and the allegiance was echoed in their work, much of it bearing the emblem of a hunting dog.

I looked at the object Hadeon pointed at, a large flat circle of silver emblazoned with the snarling face of a dog. The eyes glittered darkly as though with fire from deep within the earth, and as I leaned in to find that the sparkle came from tiny gemstones.

I looked at the stall keeper, who gave me a nod, before picking it up and turning it over in my fingers, revealing a sturdy clasp on the back of the disc.

“It’s meant to clasp your hood in place,” I explained, although I had never worn such an ornament myself. Most clansmen simply tucked the end of their hood over their face to further protect them from the sun, but some wore decorations for special events, or if they were given one as a gift.

“That one is very special,” chimed in the shopkeeper, reaching forward a wizened hand covered in sunspots to tap the engraving. “The eyes are genuine blood glass.”

“Blood glass?” Hadeon echoed curiously, leaning in to get a better look.

As he peered over my shoulder, Hadeon’s hand came to rest on the small of my back, pinky finger just brushing my skin in the gap between my cropped vest and pants. My muscles tensed involuntarily at the touch of bare skin in such an unexpected place, but Hadeon didn’t seem to notice, his eyes glued on the clasp before him. With a steadying breath I managed to release my gripping muscles and return my focus to the conversation. I couldn’t afford to alienate Hadeon by overreacting to his advances when so much rode on gaining his support.

“It’s one of the most valuable materials among the clans, made from the sand of the desert mixed with blood before it is fired. These specific pieces were made using the blood of Clan Vecturna’s very own warlord. They’re harder than diamonds and wearing it the amplifies the desert’s magic and grants her favor,” the shopkeeper explained in a hushed tone, as if she were sharing a great secret with us. “The Champion’s circlet that will be awarded to the victor at the end of the Trials is adorned with several pieces of blood glass, cut into the shape of gems. They are said to have been made from the blood of the first lord to cross the desert.”

I tilted my head, trying to remember stories of blood glass. The lord of Clan Padra had possessed a saber with a piece of blood glass in the hilt when I rode with them. Stories whispered around the fireside during my childhood claimed it had given her the power to defeat the former lord and assume leadership of the clan.

Two planes of blood glass, the largest I had ever seen, also adorned the locked entrance to Alyx’s tomb at the top of the palace.

“They look just like dark rubies to me,” Hadeon commented with a shrug.

“I don’t think I’m in the market for amplified magic right now,” I commented as I put the clasp down.