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CHAPTER1
Arin
The sandstorm raged.Sand spilled into my every gasp, clogging my nose and burning my throat. Draven’s broad arms crushed me to Lark. “Hold on!” he yelled, but even with his face pressed close, the vicious wind tore his shout away.
Lark’s breaths rasped my cheek, his lips rough with sand.
My whole world, my every thought, every muscle, became an anchor.Hold on. Just hold on.If I let go, I’d lose them both, and this storm could not have them. I clung to Lark, fearful should I weaken, he’d be torn from me.
Louder, the storm churned. Its fury tried to split the world asunder. I screamed too, screamed back at it and clung to the two most important people left in my life.
“Nothing lasts forever,” Lark hissed into my ear, like a prayer or a dream. My Prince of Storms.
All we had to do was fight and breathe and live.
And then, breath by breath, the buffeting eased and the storm’s fury ebbed away.
“Arin.” Draven pulled on my arm, hefting me from the sand. I coughed and heaved, shaking dust from my hair. My eyes burned, streaming. All around, great banks of sand rose up, turning the world red.
Against the odds, I was alive. “Lark?” I scanned the desolate view. “Where’s Lark?”
“Here.” He waded over a dune, coughing. His dark hair had turned auburn and his face dusty, but his eyes shone, even with caked lashes.
“Are you all right?”
Lark nodded and gave his shirt a shake. “I have sand where sand has no right to be. You?”
“We must move.” Draven turned his head toward the mighty walls surrounding the Court of War. “They’ll come.”
Ogden would send his warriors for us. The King of War believed we’d conspiredwithRazak. We couldn’t stay here and couldn’t go back there.
The wind still howled nearby, and the desert still churned, but the worst of the storm had passed, leaving the night skies clear. Where those stars sparkled had to be our destination.
“Where’s the road?” I asked.
“Buried.” Draven started forward. His boots sank, but he waded on, pushing through the sand as though pushing through water. “We’ll head to Palmyra.”
Palmyra? “Which way is that?”
“Follow the stars,” he said, stomping on.
Lark’s wan smile tucked into his cheek. He ruffled his hair, shaking sand free, turning his careless locks back to black. “As certain death awaits behind War’s doors, it would appear we have no choice.”
The representatives of Justice had only made it a few steps outside of War’s gates before Ogden had turned on us. And all we’d tried to do was stop Justice taking Razak back to their court—where he’d planned to be. But nobody had cared to listen.
I worked grit from around my tongue and spat, already hating the desert.
“Hurry,” Draven barked. “If we don’t find shelter by sunup, the heat will kill us.”
Lark frowned after him. “Doesn’t mince his words, does he?” He followed the divots left by Draven’s boots, but I hung back a few moments and watched them move off. Under starlight, the dunes looked like frozen waves. We walked into a land of nothingness. And wehadnothing. No aides, no supplies, no water.
Draven had saved me when my court had burned, and here he was, saving me again, always moving forward. He knew what to do, where to go, how to survive out here. We would be all right.
I pushed on. Sand shifted and washed away underfoot, making the going slow. Every step dragged. We walked until my thighs ached and sweat burned my skin. The storm had long passed, but a glance behind revealed War’s enormous pyramid jutting toward the starlit horizon, still too close.
The breeze had turned cold now too. I hugged myself and jogged up alongside Lark.
His and Draven’s long-legged strides outpaced mine. Draven, though, was some distance ahead, clearly accustomed to the climate.
