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“It’s out there,” Draven grumbled. “This is what they do. They wait.”
“For how long?” Arin’s voice sailed from the rear of the cave.
“Longer than we’ve got.”
What I didn’t say was how I’d read about sandworms in Razak’s library. They might lie in wait for years and were often mistaken for rocks. Sometimes they waited so long, grass grew up around them. We did not have that long.
I retreated to the shadows deep within the cave and studied our surroundings. Rocks, dried grass, dust, sand, and more rocks.
“I should be able to start a fire. Collect any grass you can find,” Draven said, scooping up old brush.
I picked up twigs, grateful for something to keep my thoughts from straying into what came next.If the worm didn’t kill us, the heat would. Arin must have been thinking the same. He stayed seated and stared out of the cave mouth at the red stars.Everythingin this land burned red.
Earlier, after our laughter had died, he’d smiled for a while but soon turned somber. When he smiled, it lit up a whole room, but that smile was a distant memory now. He’d be blaming himself for all of our misfortune. My Prince of Hope was losing his.
Draven rubbed rocks and sticks together in such a way to spark a fire, then muttered something about learning to survive among the sands. We sat huddled at the campfire’s edges, the three of us wrapped in a heavy, pensive silence.
It would have been easier for them had I not been a third wheel to their wagon, unwanted and awkwardly placed between them. I’d seen them earlier, standing close, Draven’s touch on Arin’s cheek, the two of them so perfect even I could see they were fated for each other. If Draven was who Arin wanted, so be it. They were joined, after all.
It may have been better for me to march off into the sand and leave them alone together. Which would have been all well and good, but Draven had tried to get himself killed by the worm, and if Draven died, Arin would never survive out here.
Iwouldleave them, but onlywhenwe found help. After we survived this grating furnace, I’d go back to Pain, to Razak, and stop him. It had to be me. There was no other way to end this madness. Love had fallen, and the remaining courts had no idea how to handle my brother. Soon, he’d leave Justice with their crown. And with all four crowns in his possession, he’d make himself a god. I didn’t know how, but everything he’d predicted so far had come to pass. Razak was always right.
He’d extend the Court of Pain throughout all the shatterlands. The entire world would be one long, endless storm, with its people all working to feed Razak’s greed.
“Someone in War was working with Razak,” Arin said, his voice rough from sand or tiredness.
I blinked dry eyes and dragged myself from dreams of a dire future.
“I don’t see how,” Draven said. He lay back, propped on his elbow, as though comfortable in a desert cave. “He didn’t get the crown.”
“He did,” I said, remembering the satisfaction in my brother’s eyes. “It wasn’t on him, but he knows it’s safe. Arin’s right, he had help.”
“He has people inside all the courts,” Arin added, careful not to meet my gaze. “People he’s manipulated, bribed, threatened. He plants them close to those he wants to destroy, and they wait for when he makes his move. I’d call it brilliant if I didn’t despise him.”
My right hand ached, its two digits missing. I tucked it out of sight between my thighs and stared at the flames. I’d been that traitor in Arin’s court, Razak’s tool. It was a wonder Arin could look at me without hate in his eyes.
Draven tossed more sticks onto the fire. “We can’t do anything about it out there. And we can’t get back inside my court. That bridge has burned.”
“You could,” Arin added, glancing at Draven. In the firelight, Arin’s face gathered moving shadows, sharpening his features. His freckles had darkened too. “They’d let you back in.”
Draven shook his head and almost laughed, but the sound never got past his thin smile. “I’m joined with a traitor. The only reason Ogden will open those gates is to hang my head from them.”
“I’m not a traitor. I didn’t betray anyone.” Arin kept his voice level, which was how I knew his thoughts were far from calm. He didn’t just despise my brother, he despised all of this. He’d only ever tried to do the right thing, perhaps using the wrong means, but he’d used the tools he’d had available. And it hadn’t been enough.
“I know that.” Draven tried to smile, but it didn’t stick. “But you sided with Lark, and—”
“Yes, thank you,” I snapped. “We all know I’m a traitor.” I’d ruined their lives by association. The traitor’s son. It had been baked into me since birth.
“Draven is saying—” Arin began.
“I know what he’s saying. And he’s not wrong. I shouldn’t be here. In fact, I may as well save us all the effort of waiting out that worm and walk onto those sands. I’ll be gone, and you’ll be without me, as you’d both prefer.”
“That’s not—” Arin straightened. “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?” I caught Draven’s sultry-eyed gaze over the flickering flames. He didn’t deny it. “Regardless, my brother has won.”
With that revelation, we fell silent again.
