Page 105 of Heart of the Desert

Kelvar frowned. “She never feared death. In fact, as a healer, she walked side by side with it most days. I always wondered if that changed things.”

I huffed. “You don’t strike me as one to be afraid either.”

“I never feared death, but I feared being separated from Alyx.”

It was a sentiment echoed in my own body, from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. I had promised Keera I would never leave her again. I would never let her feel the pain of abandonment again, but if I was killed, she would be alone.

It didn’t change the fact that I would jump in front of a sword in an instant to protect her.

There was still a price to pay to heal the Heart. My own hammered in my chest, as I pondered what the desert might demand. I would pay it for Keera, without a second thought.

“Did—”

“Is everything all right, High Lord?”

I whirled around, to find Koen holding a torch as he stood between two tents, the flickering light making his odd copper hair look as much like flame as the one he held.

“Yes.” I looked over my shoulder, but Kelvar was gone. “I just—” I bit my tongue, thinking it unwise to admit to hallucinations mere hours before leading this man and his people into battle.

“I see I am not the only one plagued by visions.”

I frowned. I had never considered how Koen’s odd premonitions might present themselves.

“Yours come in dreams, if I remember correctly.”

Koen’s lips quirked. “They do.”

“And did you have any dreams tonight?” I couldn’t help the hope creeping into my voice. Perhaps he had some inkling of what dawn would bring or a clue that could help us turn the tide.

“I did dream, but only the nightmares that are to be expected on the eve of battle. Still, I’ve become accustomed enough to my dreams coming true that I prefer to stay awake instead of having such visions.”

I grimaced. Perhaps his gift was as much of a curse as mine, although it was more unique than my raw power.

“The desert gave you an interesting blessing. I’ve never heard of its like,” I admitted.

“Perhaps it is not entirely the desert’s gift,” Koen mused, rubbing his hand over his jaw. “After all, my mother was not from the clans or Kelvadan but was the daughter of a trader who came from Doran. But she fell in love—with both my father and the sands—and so she never went home. I always wondered if it shaped more about me than my hair. And after hearing the tale of the three sisters, I wonder if our goddess may have borrowed some of her oldest sister’s power.”

I blinked. General Warrick was the only other man I had seen with such a hair color, but it had never occurred to me before that a clan lord might carry blood from beyond the mountains. Still, Warrick had told us of the witches from Doran who studied the future, although he had spoken of runes and complex rituals.

“It seems the desert has given your gift her own wild flavor,” I observed.

“For which, I am glad,” Koen admitted. “If I could look into the future at will, I would not be able to appreciate the unpredictable nature of my home.”

“I am not so glad,” I huffed. “It would be useful to know more about the coming battle.”

“Some things are best left a mystery. Otherwise, we might not have the courage to face them, if we knew the pain that awaited us.”

His ominous words fell like stones in my heart, and I swallowed. The silence stretched long, until Koen inclined his head. “I’ll leave you to your own visions.” Then, he returned the way he had come, leaving me in darkness.

I looked around briefly to see if Kelvar might return, but I was glad when he didn’t. All I wished for now was a few more moments with Keera safely in my arms before we plunged into danger.

The sun burned fiercely into the back of my neck as it climbed in the sky behind me. For the second time I marched toward war with the city of Kelvadan. This time, though, Keera rode beside me, instead of the silence in our bond driving me forward in a blind rage. It should have been a comfort, but somehow my dread was heavier.

Perhaps it was because saving Kelvadan seemed more daunting than destroying it had been. Maybe Kelvar was right: Healing was a greater power than ruin, and I feared it was one that I did not possess.

As the city came into view, the heaviness in my veins only deepened. The last time I had marched on Kelvadan, the brand new gate had been a jarring reminder of how much my home had changed. This was far worse.

The wooden gate that Keera had obliterated had been replaced, now reinforced with forged metal bands and adorned with lethal spikes, impeding the effects of any ram. Sat atop the flat stone rooves that made the stacked levels of Kelvadan were unfamiliar structures, although I recognized them from General Warrick’s descriptions.