Page 87 of Blood of the Sands

“I know,” Erix admitted. “But being a sword frees me from the weight of being its wielder. The blade is not responsible for the blood it spills, but the one who swings it.”

I swallowed thickly, heart wrenching in my chest. “You’re not a sword though. You’re a man.”

“I haven’t wanted to be. Not until—not until I met you.”

I stepped forward, unable to stop myself even if I wanted to. I reached up to cup Erix’s cheek as I had before. This time he leaned into the touch.

Chest to chest with him, I stood on my toes, using my hand on his face to pull him down to me. Ever so slowly I lifted my face until I could press my forehead to his. A full body shudder racked his frame, but he did not pull away. Time stretched and compressed as we stood there, breathing the same air. This close, I could sense the salt and sandalwood scent drifting off his bare skin.

Magic swirled between us, although I couldn’t tell who it belonged to. Still, as our heartbeats fell into synchrony, it settled to a pleasant pulse running from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. The ragged sound of our breaths filled the space, and I realized the world had gone quiet around us.

The storm that raged outside had calmed.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Erix

The next two days passed in the same rhythm, thankfully absent of more storms or mythical creatures. Every morning we flowed through our forms together, riding until evening when I would help Keera practice with her magic. It seemed to be coming to her easier by the day, rocks and fire leaping to life at to her command. If she noticed that I took the practice as an opportunity to lay my hand on her shoulder or the small of her back, knowing that it helped her access her power with less fear, then she didn’t comment on it.

On the third night, we set up our camp in the divot between two dunes. We had leftover meat from our hunt that morning and Keera produced two pieces of fruit from her pack, making a fire or another hunt unnecessary.

I grabbed my sleeping mat and rolled it out a few feet away from hers. I sat down on it, cross legged, and unsheathed my saber. Keera looked up at the metallic slide from where she was devouring her meal with a single-minded efficiency. Fruit juice dribbled between her fingers, and she licked them clean.

The jut of her hipbones and shoulder blades against my arm as I tied her across Alza’s back all those months ago flashed through my mind. I made a mental note to send Zephyr out to hunt for us again. I would not let Keera go hungry.

Methodically, I ran the whetstone across the length of metal in my lap. I hadn’t used my sword today, but it was a habit I couldn’t break. I cared for my saber every night, and sleep would not come for me if I left the task undone.

“I’m a little sad I didn’t succeed in stealing that from you,” Keera said around a mouthful of orange.

“It was Kelvar’s,” I admitted. “It’s the only thing I brought with me.”

Keera looked at it curiously. On a whim, I offered it to her hilt first. She stood and walked over slowly, wiping her hands on her pants. Cautiously, as if it were a snake that might strike out at her, she reached for the hilt.

Upon taking it, she took a few stances with it experimentally. I knew from experience that there was no weapon as balanced or deadly, longer than any other sword I had ever encountered. I had never let another wield it, but it looked right in Keera’s hand.

“It seems like Kelvar was trying to compensate for something,” Keera commented wryly as she ran through a few stances.

“I wouldn’t know. Strangely enough, the statues and paintings in Kelvadan are all of him fully clothed.”

Keera chuckled, and I reveled in the sound, mixed with the swish of the blade as she swung it experimentally. Pausing, she pointed the tip of the weapon at me, tip angled straight toward the base of my throat.

I let her, not moving to defend myself. It wasn’t lost on me how we had been in this position before, roles reversed.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” she asked. She didn’t need to elaborate.

“The whispers of my mind… the madness that threatens to engulf me when I’m not spilling blood on behalf of the desert—something happened when I touched you. I felt still.”

Keera nodded, as if she understood without further explanation. “With your hand at my throat, I felt alive for the first time since my clan left me to die. I had been fighting to survive, but I didn’t know why until something awoke in me. It took you holding your blade to my throat for me to realize that I still had a reason to be alive.”

How odd that I had awoken her while she had settled me.

“Why don’t you kill me now?” I asked.

The saber tip inched forward, resting against my collarbone. It wouldn’t be such a bad way to die, looking up at the one person whose power might be able to match mine. Still, I found myself hoping she wouldn’t. After so long being ambivalent about my own existence beyond my purpose in restoring the Heart of the Desert, it was a heady feeling.

“You know me,” was Keera’s simple answer. She let the saber point drop and handed it back to me. I set it at my side.

Hesitantly, giving Keera a chance to pull away if she wanted to, I reached out to where her hand dangled at her side. Instead, she met me halfway, our fingers intertwining. It was the first time I had initiated contact between us without the guise of training, and something I didn’t know had been tight in my chest loosened as she responded.