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The forges go utterly silent, until Ravis commands, “Again.”
His man finds another plant, smashes the hammer into it, and the result is the same. The plant breaks into pieces so tiny they can only be described as powder before falling to the ground.
The prince’s face splits into a wide grin. “I think the cacti have had enough. We have some traitors in the dungeons. Let’s see if the results are the same.”
The prince and his retinue leave without giving me another glance. My gaze fixes onto the heaps of what look like green ashes from here. A breeze blows by, stirring up the remains, carrying the top layer away in a cloud.
My knees connect with the hard ground as I stare and stare and stare, willing the ashes to form back together into what they once were. Waiting for this new nightmare that has become my life to end.
“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” I whisper to myself.
But this is very, very real.
I just made something that will turn people topowderwith a single swing. The faces of the people I love rotate through my mind, bursting into pieces before falling like ash to the ground.
I’m a menace.
My eyes lower to my hands, freshly calloused.
These hands were forced to kill. Forced to make weapons meant to kill.
Was I always made for death? I only ever wanted to helppeople. To enjoy the process of creating. To feel closer to my mother by practicing the ability that we share.
But all I ever seem to do is cause trouble.
I ruined our lives in Lirasu, then put the world in danger by making Secret Eater. And now I’m mass-producing weapons intended for world domination.
I lose it, laughing hysterically one second and then sobbing the next. I wrap my arms around my torso, as though I can make myself smaller, compress myself until I’m nothing at all.
Why do I exist? What is the point of creating when it’s only going to be used to destroy?
Distantly, I hear someone shouting, “Let me go,” and the sounds of a scuffle.
“Release him,” someone else says. Elany. “Just this once.”
Warm arms enfold me, and I let them, thinking maybe they’ll do a better job of hiding me from the world than I’m doing now.
Lips at my ear. “Ziva, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault—do you hear me?” Kellyn’s voice is like a balm on my nerves, and I wish it wasn’t, because I’m not supposed to want to be comforted by him. I’m supposed to be letting go of him for a million reasons. Because he chose me over Temra. He thought to sacrifice himself. He betrayed my trust by giving my abilities away to Ravis. He made me care about him enough to put the rest of the world in danger with the weapons I’m making for this army.
Kellyn might be all I have right now, but that doesn’t mean I have to lean on him like this. We’re not together anymore. I need to be strong on my own.
I shove Kellyn away from me, dust off my clothes, and walk into the center of the forge. I grab the next heated weaponfrom the kiln and go back to imbuing swords with defensive magic.
I’m present. I’m focused. I control my magic.
The words don’t feel true, but I have to cling to them for now.
A few days later, our working hours are cut short. Elany ushers me from the forges, the guards following behind us.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“You get a break tonight.”
“Really?” I ask, relishing the thought of more time spent alone.
“Yes, we’re going to a party! Isn’t that exciting?”
I feel my whole face fall. “Why does the prince want me to attend a party?” And more important, how can I get out of it?
