Page 106 of Crown of the Dunes

Where in prior months she had seemed weary and on the verge of collapse, today, there was a bounce to her step and a brightness to her golden gaze. I forced myself to look away, and I caught the faintest hit of a frown forming before my gaze fixed on the wall hanging over her shoulder.

“The grain arrived from Viltov today,” she announced, explaining her bright mood.

A small pang shuddered through the tether between us at the mention of Viltov, contrasted by the slight loosening of the knot of anger that pulsed within me. Keera would have food. It burned hotter than Lord Alasdar’s brands to know I had been unable to provide it for her, but knowing she would not starve was a balm, nonetheless.

“Good.” My tone was clipped, but I meant it. “I have good news too.”

Keera smiled and stepped toward me. I took a step back, even though it felt like stabbing my heart with a hot poker. I ached to touch her—and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make myself stop.

“I know how we can find a tricrith,” I said. “I can go harvest venom from one tomorrow.”

Keera’s smile faded into a look of determined consternation. “We will go.”

“You will be missed here,” I pointed out. “With all the guests from Viltov arriving, you’ll be needed here. Your fiancé is sure to notice if you’re gone.” I tried not to spit the word, but I knew Keera could feel my ire and frustration anyway.

She raised her chin defiantly. “I am not just a decorative queen for this city. I was given this position since I won the title of Champion of the Desert—because it is my job to fight for all the people of the Ballan Desert.” Her voice grew softer as she continued. “You left your post to come with me and fight the lava wyrm. I can’t let you fight a tricrith alone.”

My heart panged at her words, and I grimaced. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s going to be just one tricrith. I found their nest.”

Keera’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “Oh. Sands.”

“Remember how the tricrith at the funeral burst from under the ground? I read in the bestiary that they dig complex burrows of interweaving tunnels. I searched in my rides and found an entrance to one near the foot of the mountains, on the opposite side of the city from the grain fields.”

Keera blanched. “Underground?”

I understood her sentiment. Standing at the mouth of the tunnel descending into the earth, I too had envisioned the suffocating cell dug into the mountain, and a cold sweat had broken out on my skin. This burrow was not cut into the stone, but into the desert herself. I had hope that it would not bring the same overwhelming silence.

“I can go alone,” I repeated.

Keera shook her head defiantly. “No. I will be coming with you. We always said it would take two to break the blood glass, and this part will be no different. But we will have to go the night after next.”

“Why?” I asked.

“The grain from Viltov arrived this evening.” Despite the good news, Keera’s gaze fixed on a point over my shoulder as she continued. “Calix suggested we celebrate the occasion with our engagement party.”

The chattering in my head crescendoed so suddenly that my vision blurred, and I had to grip my hands into fists to prevent myself from yanking on my hair to relieve the pressure in my skull.

“Tomorrow will be a long day for you then,” I gritted out through my teeth. “I should leave you to get some rest.”

Before Keera could stop me, I stalked to the edge of the balcony. I put my hands on the railing, and for a split second the dizzying drop to the city below called to me, taunting me. But I pushed the derisive chittering aside and swung myself over the edge, twisting so my feet hit the stone wall below. As I climbed down the side of the palace, I relished the scraping of stone on my skin and the way the hewn ridges cut into my palms. They were a welcome distraction from the prospect of another sleepless night alone.

Chapter twenty-seven

Keera

The persistent ache that had lodged itself beneath my breastbone—the pain of loss and the fear of failure—eased for the first time in weeks as I looked out over the courtyard before me. Ever since the avalanche had buried half of the grain fields and left the others without irrigation, the threat of starvation had rubbed at me with every step, like a sharp stone in my boot that I couldn’t remove. In the past weeks, it had grown into a boulder I ran into at every turn.

Tonight, that boulder had been cracked in half. Everywhere I looked, people toasted and feasted. I watched as Neven, standing near the statue of Kelvar, picked a bite off a plate carried by an attendant. His brow furrowed as he tried it, then it twisted in curiosity. It must have been one of the brined fish that had arrived unexpectedly with the grain from Viltov yesterday. As I wrinkled my nose at the odd smell of them Calix had laughed, explaining that they were standard fare in the island country.

While they were receiving mixed reviews from the guests at the palace, none could deny the comfort of a full belly after weeks of skirting around the edge of satisfaction. Apparently feeling my gaze on him, Neven looked up and caught my eye. He began weaving through the crowded courtyard where people milled and danced, cutting a crooked path to where I stood near the steps to the palace.

“You look lovely,” he said as he reached me.

I raised a brow at him. “You are basically complimenting yourself when you say that, you know.”

“Just because I made the clothes, doesn’t mean you don’t wear them well,” he pointed out. “Besides, there is nothing wrong with being confident in one’s abilities. And if anybody should be confident in themselves tonight, it should be you. You’re the reason this happened.”

I sighed heavily, looking up at the statue of Kelvar. He wore a crown of larrea flowers, just like he had during the Kelvadan festival, but something about his stone eyes seemed empty, despite the fact that I had always seen mischief in his smile before.