Chapter 22
Firelight danced over Nina’s skin. Even from a distance, Kasik could see the weight of the world on her shoulders, the way
she cradled it as she twirled and danced to the drums. He couldn’t keep his desire at bay. In that moment, he felt weaker
than ever before, wanting for what he knew he could never have.
He was acutely aware of Nina’s humanity. The soft shape of her, the sweat glistening on her skin, the way her chest heaved
with excitement and pushed taut against her tunic. The flower in her hair that grew wild in the forests surrounding them,
a riot of pink and orange and freedom that encompassed all that Nina was.
A bright spot in a wave of obscurity. A hand reaching beneath the surface to pull him up for air and remind him what it was
to breathe.
The music began to slow, as did Nina’s movements, until she was staring directly at him, eyes like an arrow piercing the space
between them. Kasik watched her come closer in a daze, foolish hope filling his chest and head with thoughts that left him
speechless. The fire at her back and the moonlight on her face made him think of vengeful gods and relentless mortals, and
for a moment he thought it was a good thing that they were on the same side.
He pushed away from the tree he had been leaning against to greet her. It felt important that he was standing tall before
her, no weaknesses on display.
“You were right,” she said, suddenly close enough to touch.
He wanted to reach out and run his fingers through her dark hair, loose and wild around her, but her face and body told him what he needed to know.
This wasn’t the Nina who was desperate for comfort.
This was the Nina who was desperate for change, and her words were a double-edged weapon. A promise.
“They are not free,” she said, a razor-sharp finger pointed behind her. Then at her chest. “But I will be.”
Their gazes held, a storm of reckoning brewing between them, and Kasik realized then that they had never been on the same
side and would never be. She was caged fury, insatiable curiosity, and relentless pursuit. The only reason she was still there
was because she allowed it.
Kasik, on the other hand, was at the mercy of his masters, the gods and the emperor. She was a storm wielding transformation,
and he was the boulder that never changed, never moved, and never grew.
The temptation to reach out, to touch her, to steal a taste of that power, was almost too much to bear, but it was Nina who
stepped closer, her dark-as-night eyes glowing with moonlight. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. If he disappointed
her as much as he disappointed himself.
I cannot say no again, he thought to himself, if she asks me to stay.
Kasik could recognize the same resolve that filled him slip beneath the surface of Nina’s features. Her eyes hardened with
it, her mouth settling into a capricious grin. Kasik held his breath and waited for her judgment, but she only glanced at
his mouth, and then turned and began walking away.
Peeling himself from his spot to follow her took effort. He felt disoriented. Like an animal on a tether. “Where are you going?”
he asked.
“To get an achipuma. We must leave, right? No sense in waiting until the morning.”
“Nina,” he called after her. “It’s not safe to travel right now.”
She whirled around to face him, a tempest on the horizon. “Is anything safe? At least if I am killed by an achiyanga then I am free in some way. Your beloved Emperor Maicu can hardly fault you for that.”
“It’s not about that,” he practically shouted at her. “There is no power in being dead. At least, as his wife, you will have
the chance to create a life. Perhaps even create change, if you wished to.” This seemed to give her pause. “You’ll be close to the emperor. You’ll have his ear. Things could be
different.”
Nina tilted her head and pursed her lips. “You’re right. The emperor’s ear is exactly what I need.”
Kasik thought that he had finally said the right thing, but her concession came too easily. Her words made the hairs on the
back of his neck stand on end. They were far from the fire, far from the warmth of people and life. The moon was large and
bright in the sky, bathing everything where they stood in sharp contrast to the shadows in the mossy tree line.
“We’ll leave in the morning, as planned,” he said, holding a hand out to her. “Let’s go back to the fire and enjoy this night.”
Heart pounding, Kasik waited for Nina to accept his offer. Her hand twitched by her side, and he could see the way her shoulders
lowered the slightest bit. Another small victory. She extended her hand to his, fingers nearly touching, and then she paused.
She turned her head sharply to the side, and then he heard a clap. And another.
Nina looked at Kasik, confused. A slow round of applause came from a man materializing from the shadows between tents. “That
was very touching,” he said, voice rich, measured steps bringing him closer to where they stood. “And this place is quite charming.
The emperor would love it, wouldn’t you agree, Kamayuq Kasik?”
Kasik’s chest clenched as he watched Kuna, a favored spy of Emperor Maicu’s, approach.
His eyes flicked to the trees, searching for Aysan, the man’s other half.
They were t’ira, brothers identical in appearance, with the same long hair and slender builds that made them quick and light on their feet.
They were known to be needlessly cruel and vicious in their pursuits.
Though he couldn’t find Aysan, Kasik knew he was there. Lurking in the shadows like an achipuma, waiting for permission to
pounce. They didn’t go anywhere without the other.
Kasik didn’t waste time questioning how they had found the camp—it was further proof of Shayim’s lies—or why they were there. It did not matter. Their mere presence was a danger to everyone there, including Nina.
Slowly, Kasik moved toward Nina to cover her with his body, to keep Kuna’s eyes from drinking her in. He was a man thirsty
for violence and would take it any way he could.
When Nina’s hand found the back of his tunic and fisted the fabric tight, Kasik kept his shoulders from softening, his face
neutral so that they wouldn’t think her important in any way. “What is your business here?” he asked.
Kuna tsked and took a small step forward. “You know we cannot share that information, not even with the emperor’s pet.”
Kasik tensed, his hand reaching for a weapon that was no longer there. He only had the small knife in his boot. It would have
to do. “Jealousy does not become you, Kuna. I’d suggest you answer the question plainly.”
Kuna hummed a laugh. “It’s curious,” he said. “Do you know this rebel camp did not exist only two days ago? Then, suddenly
it appears, and here you are. Are you plotting against Emperor Maicu, Kamayuq? Your own friend?”
“This is not a rebel camp,” Nina hissed behind him. Kasik reached back and pushed her farther to the side, so his body was completely
covering hers once again.
The smile on Kuna’s face twisted into wicked delight, all teeth and danger.
“You have no idea what you’ve walked into, do you?
I guess we’ll have to take care of the problem ourselves.
Aysan,” he called out. There was a rustle in the trees, and then a barely discernible thump.
From the shadows appeared the second t’ira, just as Kasik expected.
Nina inhaled sharply, her fist tightening farther in his shirt.
“Do you think Emperor Maicu will be glad to know what we’ve found? ”
“Oh, he’ll be delighted, indeed,” Aysan said. The gleam in his smiling eyes was a terrifying promise. “We must tell him at
once. But it has been a long day of travel. Perhaps our comrade here will invite us to dine with him.”
“I am not your comrade,” Kasik said through his teeth. “And you are not welcome here.”
“Oh, ho.” Kuna smirked sideways, his eyes alight with sport. “Then we will leave, of course, and—”
Kasik, working hard to control his breathing, felt the shift in Nina a split second too late. The heat of her body against
his back disappeared, and then she was beside him. “You cannot leave,” she said, voice firm with authority. Kasik did not
spare her a glance, did not dare to take his eyes off the men, even as his heart clawed at his chest. “You must stay. Come.
There is plenty of food.”
The t’ira grinned at each other. “What manners,” Kuna said, taking a step closer, Aysan following close behind.
Kasik felt each of their steps like a fist to his chest. It was instinct that sent his arm out and across Nina’s abdomen.
That pushed her back and braced for whatever came next.
Kuna faltered suddenly, a small stutter that looked almost like he had missed a step, and then he grunted. Aysan looked to
his t’ira with a furrowed brow, an expression that mirrored Kasik’s own.
“What—” Aysan started, but then he stopped speaking, and his hand flew to his chest. He looked at it as if it didn’t belong to him.
As if something had taken up residence and was devouring him from the inside out.
Beside him, Kuna fell to his knees, his neck craned back at an unnatural angle, mouth open and eyes wide toward the moonlit sky.
No more than a handful of heartbeats had passed, but Kasik felt as though the scene before him was trudging through mud. By
the time he pulled Nina behind him again, blood that turned brackish in the moonlight was dripping down the t’ira’s faces.
From their eyes and ears, sputtering from their lips as they gurgled nonsensically.
It was a scene from Kasik’s worst nightmare. Deaths just as cruel and vicious as the men before him. Their mouths opened and
closed with phantom screams. Their hands clawed uselessly at their throats and chests. They gouged their flesh and tore at
their hair.
Kasik’s muscles coiled to attack, but there was no enemy he could see. No monster he could slay. It was something only the
gods could have done, a death so miserable that none but the most despicable of mortals deserved.
He shielded Nina, ready to absorb anything that came their way, but the men suffered in solitude until they fell to the ground,
face down, necks at strange angles, arms and legs twisted at their sides.
Nothing but whimpering masses of flesh.
Not dead yet, Kasik realized with dread.
“Nina, we have to—” But his words were cut off as the weight of her body fell against him. He grabbed her and spun, heart
in his throat, imagining the worst as he pushed her hair back from her face. But there was no blood leaking from her eyes.
No agony etched onto her features. Her eyes were closed as if she had simply fallen asleep, and Kasik did the only thing he
could think of.
He screamed for help.