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“You didn’t think to ask me that before I started marking it?” Amusement dances in her voice. “I wouldn’t be so trusting if someone was doing magic on my skin.”
“I threw myself entirely at your mercy last night, and you did not betray me. I don’t see a reason to start doubting you now.” It’s the truth—or at least, part of it. The rest of the truth is that I don’t want to think too much about the runes yet. The events of the previous night are still a whirl in my mind. My life is changing too quickly for me to grasp.
“I can think of many reasons, if you want.” A smile teases on her lips. She dips the needle into the pot that holds the ink. “Remember, we barely know each other.”
“You have a strange way of reassuring your allies.” My last word catches as she digs the needle into my shoulder again. She prods ink deep into my broken skin, sending stings through my shoulder blade. I wait until she’s finished before I speak again. “And what do you mean, we barely know each other? We’ve been singing our hopes and dreams to each other for months.” I reach up and brush a strand of hair from her face.
She sets the needle down and catches my hand in hers, and our fingers twine together. I linger, losing myself in her touch, in her nearness. She is the one thing I’m certain about. I don’t want to give her a reason to doubt me when her trust in me is still so new.
Her teasing expression softens as I speak, and her pale face flushes. Still, there’s a keen glint in her sea-blue eyes that tells me she isn’t content with my answer yet. “Do you know how old I am?”
I blink. I’d never thought to ask. Both elves and tuath live for thousands of years unless our lives are cut short by violent means. As Evya and I are both adults, age didn’t seem important.
“Old enough to be married?” I offer.
She lets out a hiss that I take to mean disappointment. “I’m two hundred and forty-nine. My tribe expected me to take a mate long ago, but there was no one I desired. The only reason the challenge is happening now is that Mother is determined to pair me with a powerful ally to give the Atathari a better chance of winning the war. Did I tell you any of that when I was singing my heart out?” Evya untangles her fingers from mine and turns her focus back to the rune on my shoulder. “I know your soul, Keliveth Dalzana, but I don’t know your story, and you don’t know mine. I don’t want there to be anything hidden between us. And,” she gives me a pointed look, “I want to know what has been worrying you all day.”
“I’m not worried.” The words come out quickly, and I can tell from her scowl that she isn’t fooled. I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not worried about the challenge. I chose to follow the visions. I choose you.”
She doesn’t reply, instead focusing on the rune as she pierces my skin with the next round of strokes. The splashing of waves on the shore fills the discontented silence between us. The day that had dawned bright and promising has turned brooding, with clouds over the afternoon sun and a restless breeze off the gray expanse of the sea. I look out over the waves, toward the distant dome of the palace and the even more distant mainland shore.
I try to think of something to say that will change the direction of our conversation. If I let on to what I’m truly feeling, she might think me weak, and the thought of seeming less in her eyes is torture. But I struggle to think of anything else to say. We have already discussed the challenge and the customs surrounding it, leaving us with nothing to talk about except ourselves.
This is what I’ve wanted ever since she first answered my song months ago, and yet it suddenly feels overwhelming. She’s right—in many ways, the woman I kissed so passionately in the dawn light is still a stranger. Just as important, she doesn’t know the full truth about me, or what it would mean for her to marry into Dalzana House.
A sigh escapes me. “I lied. I’m worried.”
Evya arches her brows. Is she silently asking me to elaborate? I wonder if she can sense my emotions as she can sense those of the sea. In any case, she knows when I’m holding back.
“I don’t want you to think I regret anything,” I go on. “I want you, as I’ve never wanted anyone, and I’ll fight for you if it kills me. But ...” I trace a finger along my left wrist, where my skin is still red against the fresh black ink of the runes. “These marks are permanent, and they’re a reminder that I’ll never truly be part of my people again. They will have to accept a marriage pact between us because of the oaths Falamar has sworn to my family, but I doubt they’ll acceptmein the same way.”
Relief settles over me as I confess. The feeling is mirrored in the blue depths of Evya’s eyes. I keep talking, the words spilling out faster as my defenses crash down.
“I’m four hundred and thirty years old—also old to wed, according to the customs of the elves. I came to Kara Davonashi a year ago because I received a vision of you. It was the first vision the One Who Is had ever sent me. I knew I was supposed to find you and sing to you, and that there would be a chance to make things right between our peoples if I did, though I had no idea what that would entail. Falamar and his court ... well, they humored me.” I scowl at the memory of the king’s words last night. How I’d thought for a few moments I could finally fill the role of a proper Dalzana, only to find out the court never believed me. “I’m a failure as a Dalzana, at least by their standards. Some in my family are gifted as prophets while others serve as judges and rulers, but all of us are expected to receive frequent communication from the One. My siblings all experienced this from childhood, but not me. So when the Eternal did start speaking to me, no one took it seriously.”
“Probably for the best.”
My gaze snaps to Evya, her terse response startling me out of my musings. “What do you mean? If the king had believed me, he would have called off the attack last night, and I wouldn’t have had to fly out here on a feral dragon just to reach you.”
Evya sets her needle down in the pot of ink and stretches out on the sand, propping herself up on one elbow. “I don’t think that’s true. Falamar has never tried to seek peace with us. In the early days of the war, before you came, I visited Kara Davonashi many times in hopes of negotiating with him. I found him to be a man who thought only of his own fears, no matter how he feigned courage. If he had taken your visions seriously, would he have stood by and let you sing to me night after night?”
“...no.” I’ve never thought of it that way before. I was so intent on proving myself as a Dalzana and restoring some part of my family’s name that I never considered how hostile my own people might prove to that. “You’re right about Falamar, as much as I hate to say it. I suppose his unbelief has protected me. Only, it’s different from how I hoped everything would play out. When I was young, I watched my older siblings stop wars and speak wise words and be honored for it. I’ve always wanted the same. I never considered whether I had the right expectations.”
I give a sheepish smile, feeling humbled. I have much to learn about being a prophet. The One Who Is deigns to speak through me, protects me from my own court, gives me a noble mission and a chance to be with Evya—and here I am, upset because a foolish young king is treating me unfairly. “I suppose I’ve always hoped that if I made the right choices, all would go smoothly for me. I forgot that was never one of our Creator’s promises.”
“I also have wished for an easier path.” Evya traces a pattern in the sand with one finger, looking thoughtful. “Last night, before the dragon riders came, I almost chose Arcorlan as my champion. He’s a good man, in his way, and if we were to join our souls our combined magic would be a terrible force. Yet in the end, I refused him.”
I frown, prickling at even the thought of her favoring another. Especially Arcorlan, from the way she’s described him—a formidable warrior who has apparently gained the favor of Evya’s entire tribe without even trying. “Why did you refuse him?”
“We’re too much alike, both drenched in blood and losing sight of everything beyond war. With him, I could have helped my people to survive, but not to live. You awakened a part of me I had almost forgotten. That’s worth more to me than any promise of an easy solution.”
My heart swells, and my nagging worries melt away a little more. I lean forward, ignoring how my tattooed skin stings at the movement. She raises her mouth to meet mine. For a moment nothing matters but the taste of her and the sparks that snap between us.
Then I move in too close, and my skin burns in protest. I pull away with a groan.
Evya pushes herself upright and reaches for her needle again. “Let me finish so you can stop the pain with your magic.”
I let out a sigh and surrender to the stabbing pain of her work again. Casting a healing rune to mend my skin will be easy enough, but I must wait until Evya is finished. Otherwise, my magic might interfere with the runes she’s marking on my skin and render void their effect. I grit my teeth and focus on the rhythmic lapping of the waves on the shore.
