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She found herself rounding the table and taking Xerxes’s arm, guiding him outside into the dew-covered morning. Xerxes held tight as he teetered, whispers erupting behind them. She led him down a packed-dirt path to the rock alley and, once in the shade, she shoved him against the wall so he could keep balance on his own.
Xerxes blinked at her a few times, studying her eyes in particular. The fog cleared from his face, and when his expression sharpened, he frowned and tilted his head. “Are you… mad at me, Maiden?” he guessed.
“Yes.”
His mouth twisted to the side as he thought that over. Then he rubbed his eyes, leaving them pink. “Maybe I’m still medicated, because it seems quite outrageous that a mere burn division commander should have the right to be angry with the King of—”
“You were irresponsible,” Ryn snapped. “You shouldn’t have grabbed that scorpion, whether I symbolize hope or not. If I die, Per-Siana lives on. If you die…” she could hardly choke out the words. “Per-Siana falls. It’s as simple as that. Stop being so stupid.”
Xerxes’s eyes widened. He dropped his hand from his face and his torn nightshirt slid off his shoulder. “Did you just…”
“Call you stupid?” Ryn asked. “Yes. With confidence.”
Xerxes stared at her for a long time. Then, his frown curled upward, and it looked like the Divinities had performed some sort of twisted miracle when he smiled.
Warmth pooled in her belly. “Don’t smile at me,” she warned.
Xerxes bit his lips, but the smile still pathetically peeked out at the corners. He looked like a boy again, and for a brief second, everything inside of her wanted to smile back.
But no—she did not want to see him as that boy again. He was something else now.
“Don’t ever sacrifice yourself for me, or any other commander, again,” she said. Heat tickled her skin even though she only wore half her armour today. Her arms were mostly bare.
“If that’s what you want, Maiden.”
“This isn’t funny.”
Xerxes cast her a doubtful look as he leaned in, the tonic fragrances on his skin enveloping her when he brought his mouth right before hers, just a half-inch plate of gold metal separating their lips. Ryn’s eyes expanded when his hand came up and his thumb traced over a gold embellishment as if he was tracing her bottom lip. “This, Adassah, is very funny.”
Her jaw dropped—she sailed backward an inch before his fingers slipped beneath the point of her mask just below her chin, freezing her in place. If she tore back while he held on, her mask would slide off. Xerxes’s face split into a beautiful, devilish smile that rounded his cheeks. “Careful,” he whispered in a low voice, barely comprehensible beneath a squawking bird overhead. “Or you might just reveal everything to me.”
Ryn’s throat shifted when she swallowed. Xerxes couldn’t have possibly been alert enough last night to know what he’d seen. His display in the feasting tent proved he couldn’t tell the difference between his dreams and reality. So that left only one reason for his conduct.
Heva was right—Xerxes was flirting with one of his commanders. If he was impressed by the Gold Maiden’s achievements, that was his business, but… not Ryn. It couldn’t be Ryn. Why couldn’t he have chosen someone else to distract himself with?
She took hold of his fingers and slid them off her mask. He didn’t resist, so she turned to leave him there with whatever mind games he was playing. He could find his own way back to his tent. Maybe he’d return to his senses and put on a real shirt when he got there. Maybe he’d realize he was being a child and he only had one day left before the biggest moment of his life.
The sand was moist when Ryn left the camp, crossed a flat plain and headed up the first dune, glancing back to ensure she wasn’t being followed. It was a long, steep climb, and at the top she could see far across the desert. She inhaled, exhaled.
“What is he doing? Has he figured me out?” she whispered. “Or is he really just entertaining himself with a stranger?”
El didn’t answer, and Ryn dragged a hand down her braid. She fiddled with the string at the end holding it together. “First he allowed the Heartstealer trials to return which I thought he’d never do, and now this? Is he even the same person I knew?”
She dropped to a crouch, gazing at the vast landscape of golden rolls and distant black and white cliffs, the pale blue mountains far beyond, and the place where the sky turned bright at the horizon.
“Forget it. A King can do what he wants,” she whispered. The desert smelled like wet bark today, even though there were few trees in the oasis nearby. She breathed it in deeply and let it sift out in one long breath. “Give me eyes to see, El. Bring me back into focus.”
The breeze lifted at her back pulling loose tendrils of hair across her mask. When she narrowed her gaze on the desert the bright blue landscape darkened, the golden sand turned a deep, chalky brown, and the air grew laced with the light scent of smoke. Ryn saw the black cloud form, not far away now. It would arrive soon, returning to take what it hadn’t been able to capture last time. And with it would come a king who might try to kill Xerxes.
Ryn scooped up a handful of sand and let it drain between her fingers as she watched snaps of lightning beat inside the swirling cloud, rumbles of quiet thunder following behind. A storm was coming, and Ryn had no clues as to what hid within it, what sort of evil she might face, what sort of pain it might cause. What sort of destruction it would leave behind.
She rose, brushing the sand from her hands. She eyed the cloud until Dolem’s soft voice filled her ears and all visions of the storm to come vanished, returning the sky to blue, the landscape to gold.
“I’ve finished another song.” The woman had two trails of sweat beading down her flushed cheeks, and Ryn felt a pinch of guilt for having chosen the tallest dune to hide upon. Dolem’s long hair quivered in the wind as the morning dew dried for the day.
“Sing it to me,” Ryn invited. Her hand came up to the flute at her throat, and she held it tight as Dolem cleared her throat to sing the lines Ryn had fed her during their battles.
If His people will humble themselves and pray
