Page 14 of Heart of the Desert

Kelvar’s voice echoed in my head—the words I already feared.

I’m not the one who’s hurting her.

I couldn’t turn to her touch. Not for this. Not if it pulled her into madness with me.

Instead, I reached for the saber once more. I did not bother with the handle, grasping the blade in my fist and squeezing. I gasped as fire bloomed across my fingers, hot blood bubbling up between my knuckles.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, diving into the sharp sensation, before opening them again.

Kelvar was gone.

I knew I was hallucinating. I had seen Kelvar’s skeletal remains with my own eyes, and it only seemed logical that these apparitions would join the voices that had plagued me my whole life.

Still, he seemed so real. I reached out with my uninjured hand to touch the sand where he had sat, finding it smooth, with no indents from his presence. The grains were rough and cool under my fingers, having grown cold without the searing light of the sun or the heat of a body resting on them.

With a shudder, I let go of my saber. The sting of the cuts across my fingers was sharp, but the bitterness of guilt cut through the overwhelming physicality of my hurt too soon. I gritted my teeth. I had promised Keera I would not do this—turn back to Lord Alasdar’s ways of controlling my magic. The thought of breaking her trust left my chest as hollow as a drum, but her offered alternative of using her touch to push the visions away began to come at too steep a price. She had thought her own power a curse and doubted her own worth because of it for too long. I could not bring myself to be the reason her magic slipped her control and left her fearing herself once more.

She would say she was willing to bear the risk of madness for me. But that would destroy me faster than any of my own pain. While trust came slowly to Keera after so long on her own, once her loyalty was earned, it was as unbreakable as blood glass. She had torn her own heart out and stomped on it to try and serve the people of the city that had taken her in. But these were my burdens to bear, and I would not let Keera break herself trying to carry them for me.

I swallowed painfully as I reached for my pack, finding a length of cloth I could use to bandage the cuts and hide them from Keera. We were still a long journey from the ocean, and I had to make it there with my mind intact enough to puzzle out how to heal the Heart.

Once my wounds were covered, I laid down beside Keera and tried to even my breathing. With my own visions banished, I hoped no more nightmares would plague her during the night. Fighting the legacy of my bloodline was nothing new to me. I had managed it for three decades, and I could hold on for a little longer. Repeating this to myself until belief started to soak in, I tried to rest.

It was long minutes before sleep took me.

Chapter six

Keera

“Could you teach me how to use those?” I asked across the fire, nodding at the throwing knife Dhara was cleaning and sharpening after its use yesterday. Her skill with the weapon had saved my life. While today’s travel had been uneventful, I knew we would need every possible advantage in our arsenal before this journey was complete.

Dhara held it up, and the flickering fire light glimmered off the lethal blade. While there was a small flat portion in the middle to use as a grip, the weapon was double ended, so it would pierce the target no matter which way it struck.

“They have certainly proved useful,” Dhara stated before standing. I pushed to my feet as well and joined her on the far side of the fire.

Dhara held up the weapon and showed me how she held it, pinched in the middle.

“Then, keep your elbow pointed forward, and snap your forearm down. Let go of the knife when your arm is parallel to the ground,” she explained.

A dull thud marked the blade embedding in a date palm tree several meters away as Dhara demonstrated. Her movement had been fast and sure. Then, she pulled another from the band across her chest and handed it to me.

“You try.”

As I arranged my grip, Dhara nudged my elbow and wrist in the proper position. Then, I did my best to copy her throw. The flat of the knife smacked uselessly against the tree and the weapon fell impotently to the ground. Frustration flared in my chest, and I wrinkled my nose in irritation.

An odd bolt of amusement tinged with affection shot down the tether and warmed my belly. I shot a glance at Erix, who still sat by the fire, to find him ducking his head to hide a tiny smile.

He had been amused by my impatience with learning when we traveled together, what seemed shockingly long ago. Things had been simpler then, even if they didn’t seem it at the time.

I huffed, and Dhara chuckled

“You’re so competent with a saber, I’m surprised you aren’t already capable with them,” Dhara observed. “Knife throwing competitions are common in Clan Otush, and I assumed they were in the other clans as well.”

I swallowed in discomfort. “Most of my training did not occur in a clan.”

The words shouldn’t have tasted bitter. After being a queen, admitting to being exiled should not sting so much. Instead, the hurt felt oddly raw—like a wound that appeared to have healed but festered beneath barely closed skin, only to burst open at another slight.

I had been cast out of Kelvadan—the place I had gone against every instinct and demand of my heart to serve—in the most violent way possible. I had friendship and family now that I had not when I was left at the oasis that had been my prison, but the voice that mocked me derisively in my exile had been awoken by my most recent fall from power.