Eight
Kyrundar
Zidra tilted her head. “Changed my mind about what, exactly?”
“About me taking you all the way to West Quarter Haven?” I stepped onto my hovering slab of ice. “It’s so much faster to fly over the buildings. And it has the added benefit of avoiding awkward conversations with well-wishers.”
“Wait!” She gaped at me. “Did you fly over the buildings to Merael’s?”
“Yes—”
“So maybe no one saw you holding me while I was unconscious?” At my nod, her shoulders caved like she’d dropped a heavy weight, and the look of relief on her face almost made me laugh.
I wasn’t offended. Mostly. After all, I wouldn’t be overly keen on Laedresh gossiping about me being unconscious and carried by another rengir, either. Still, I elected not to tell her that I had made such a racket at the entrance to Merael’s Infirmary that it was entirely possible people had seen us.
“Why did we fly through the fire-blasted streets on the way here, then?” Zidra’s scowl held such fury I was surprised her eyes weren’t glowing red.
My face heated. “I didn’t want to risk you sliding off. I don’t do this often, and you’ve never traveled by ice disk before, so I thought if you lost your footing or I didn’t hold it steady enough, well, best not be twenty feet in the air. But it went so well, I’m not worried about going higher and faster on the way back.”
Zidra pursed her lips, but then she shook her head with a sigh and stepped onto the other ice disk. “I suppose that makes sense,” she muttered. “And, well…avoiding anyone is compelling.”
“Then to West Quarter Haven?”
“All right.”
My momentary elation at her agreement died a quick death, as Zidra insisted I drop her off in the back of West Quarter Haven. Apparently she really didn’t want anyone to see us together. I set down the disks and dispersed them in a glitter of disappearing snow powder.
Unlike Riverfront Haven, with its well-manicured gardens in a walled enclosure, West Quarter Haven offered an overgrown vegetable garden. The sagging picket fence I could only assume was meant to keep out animals, as it certainly wouldn’t stop a person .
“I suppose the vegetables are useful, but they’re less pretty than flowers.”
Zidra cast me an unamused glare, and I had to bite back my mirth. “Tending the vegetables gives the rengiri staying here something to do, but it also gives the poor a way to donate to the rengiri. Many of the people living near here don’t have extra money, food, or supplies they can give, but they can give a little time. Tending the garden, helping harvest, and preserving the food are all ways for them to contribute and receive Iskyr’s blessings for doing his will. If no rengiri are staying here and the food can’t be preserved, it is given to widows and orphans.”
That explained why she preferred this Haven. The building was dingy, the streets nearby less clean, the interior not as well furnished…but I had to admit it was a better example of our vows than Riverfront Haven.
Zidra stepped away, following the path of grassy cobblestones. I didn’t want to part ways while she was still angry with me. I didn’t want to part ways at all, not with that ice curse in her arm. If I wanted to stall her, I needed to say something, anything—well, anything that wasn’t about today’s events.
“I don’t picture you as a gardener.”
She stilled. “I don’t usually stay here long enough for that, and it seems like every time I have a moment, the garden is already full of people, and I don’t want to get in the way… I don’t know the first thing about gardens.”
A sly smile crept over my face. “Lies. You can tell if strawberries are ripe and pick them. You remember when we went strawberry picking, right?”
She angled toward me and narrowed her eyes. “I remember when you told me a void-tainted beast was attacking farm workers and then when we arrived and there was no monster, you insisted we pick strawberries to ‘draw the monster out.’”
My laugh shook my shoulders. “You realized so fast there was no monster.” For a few moments, I’d thought she was going to throw her basket of strawberries at me and fly away.
“Besides the lack of evidence of anyone ever having been attacked in that field,” she said, “you were enjoying yourself far too much for there to be a looming threat. A child would have realized your scheme.”
“Scheme?” My lips twitched. “To trick you into having a relaxing time with pleasant company? You know the holy texts say Iskyr desires that we rest.”
“Iskyr also commands that we shun deception,” she said, but her tone was more teasing than offended.
I leaned down until she met my gaze. “And you enjoyed it, too. You didn’t leave.”
Zidra stuck her nose in the air. “You’d already paid those farmers for their field and produce. I wasn’t going to turn down fresh strawberries just to spite you. They were good strawberries.”
“Were they?” I didn’t have to feign my surprise or interest. The strawberries had been delicious—the best I’d ever tasted, in fact. Just thinking about them conjured memories of the sweet scent of strawberries and the feeling of dirt under my nails. But… “I didn’t see you eat a single one.”
“I took the basket with me.” She gave me that look again, like she couldn’t believe I had the intelligence to be a rengir. Yet when I reached for the heartbond, I sensed more disillusionment than judgment, and most of it felt directed at herself, not me.
“Yes, but after you refused to eat them, I’d wondered if you didn’t like strawberries. For all I knew, you gifted them to the first person you saw who looked hungry.”
Zidra huffed. “I ate every last one after I washed the dirt off them like a sane person. Now, speaking of rest , I’m going to sleep.” She took off down the path as if we had nothing left to say to each other.
“Wait!” I reached out to snag her arm, but she was already beyond my reach. She stopped anyway, although she didn’t look back. “Shall I return in the morning—”
“No!” She whirled back around and held up her palms as if prepared to push me away. “Just…wait at Riverfront Haven. I’ll find you when I’m ready to start searching for Rouven.” She hurried around the building.
This time, I let her walk away and leave me standing alone in the garden.
It wasn’t the first time I’d watched her walk away. She always walked away. I always let her. After we became rengiri and every time we completed a mission, she walked away.
I don’t know if I subconsciously reached for the heartbond or if Zidra’s emotions were so strong they filtered through our bond without either of us intending it, but a sense of loss and failure crept into my consciousness. I didn’t like leaving her like this. She needed someone to lean on. Part of me hated that I knew she wouldn’t open up to me. Another, selfish part of me was relieved that I wouldn’t have to figure out how to comfort her without making her angry again.
Maybe I was delusional, thinking that Kyrmaris was a good team. Believing that we were at our best together—encouraging each other, challenging each other. For years, I’d thought Zidra was simply stubborn, shy, or self-conscious about the prejudice some people still held toward wyveri, and that was why she insisted on working alone. She didn’t seem keen on a long-term partnership with anyone. I’d certainly never thought she was rejecting me specifically.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
All these years, I’d thought we were friends. I’d believed she was warming up to the idea of working together. Most rengiri traveled in pairs. Some even traveled in groups of three or four, but that seemed crowded. I greatly preferred working with one person, and I’d never fit with anyone as well as I did with her.
Zidra, it seemed, didn’t feel the same.
In fact, she was incensed by the heartbond. Neither of us wanted it. I just wanted to be her partner, not her husband. Even though Zidra was gorgeous, and talented, and made me better in every way, and sometimes rengiri did marry each other…
I shook my head. What kind of nonsense thoughts were these? Partners. I wanted to fight and travel together, that was all.
Not that it mattered. She wanted me to leave her alone and would have gone in search of Physician Rouven by herself if she could have.
I looked up at the star-studded sky. “Iskyr.” My prayer left my lips in a whisper. “If we aren’t meant to be together—as partners or as anything more—why did you allow this bond to form between us?”
Only the chirping of insects answered me.