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I feel a burning warmth in my chest. How is it that this naga male, who I should be terrified of and hate, manages to make me feel so… seen? The last person who knew I could do magic and still wanted me was my mother. After she was taken from me, I never imagined that I would meet someone else who would feel that way about me.
Very shyly, I ask, “Would you like to see some of what I can do?”
He lets go of me, steps back, and smiles. “I’d love to. If your magic is anything like your fighting, you must be very talented.”
“I like fire,” I tell him. “And I’ve learned a lot of tricks with it.”
I show him a few of the things I’ve learned. Some basic fireballs, my most common attack. A fire lash, which can wrap around someone like a whip and even pull them to the ground. And then, just a few sillier things. Juggling with fireballs. Making fire change its color and its shape. Making it trace different shapes in the air.
He claps and seems genuinely delighted by each new trick. I’ve never shown any of these to anyone before, and having someone be impressed by them feels almost intoxicating. Someone respects all of the practice I’ve put into this. They aren’t simply horrified by it.
“You’re amazing,” he says. “You really are.”
“Thank you,” I answer. And I feel like I should say something else, but I simply don’t know what. It’s all just so much to handle.
Suddenly, his face becomes solemn. “There is bad news that I have to tell you.”
In a flash, all of the instincts I’ve just quieted leap back into full gear. “What is it?”
“When I went back to the inn, there was a note from Prince Zalith,” he explains. “Apparently, some of the King’s forces have slipped by his armies and are marching towards Lodra. He wants me to return to Lodra and meet him there to fight Kriseri’s armies.”
“Immediately?”
He nods. “Immediately.”
It’s still not as bad as I thought it would be. He’s not telling me this because of the magic. He really did get that letter at the inn. I believe him.
But it does raise a very serious question. One that might still destroy everything between us, even if learning I have magic didn’t.
“Are you asking me to come with you?” I ask.
“I understand if you don’t want to,” he says. “But I can’t disobey my Prince’s orders. If my country needs me –”
“Ifheneeds you,” I correct.
He thinks about that for a second. “Yes. If he needs me, I have to answer.”
My war against the royalty of the naga doesn’t end with Kriseri, it never did. All of those who have borne the crown while its forces enslaved humans are my enemies, and I will fight and defeat them. If I withdraw alongside Slyth, and I find myself near Prince Zalith…
Can he really not know what will happen next?
“I’ll go with you,” I tell him.
“You will?”
I nod. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt as close to anyone as I feel to you. Maybe I’ve never felt close in quite the same way. If you have to fight King Kriseri somewhere other than here, I want to be with you.”
He runs his hand through my hair. It feels good, and I lean against his chest.
“I want you with me, too,” he says. “Everywhere.”
But he must know, doesn’t he? That I’m already thinking about killing the Prince he’s dedicated his life to serving? And what will he do when that happens?
I want to tell myself that he would forgive me, that somehow, whatever is between us could survive even that. But I don’t believe it. I’ve seen how deep his sense of duty goes.
He would fight me to the death to save his Prince. If he had no other options, he would strike me down before he would let me kill Zalith. And maybe he would kill me even if I did manage it. Maybe he’s devoted enough to his Prince that he would hunt me down and avenge his death on me, just like I would be avenging the death of all the humans marked on my bow.
Why doesn’t he just talk about it? Tell me you’ll kill me if I make a move. Don’t leave me in the dark.
