Eleven #2
and worries that he hadn’t been entirely truthful seemed trivial now. He was still the servant of a Deathless queen, and the
day when he might have to make a terrible choice still loomed, but right now, at this moment, it didn’t seem to matter. Not
when compared to the other concern, hovering over my head like a black cloud.
I will protect him. I will not let his fate come for him.
Raithe’s hand slid into my hair, gentle fingers cradling my head.
He didn’t press forward, didn’t pull me to him, keeping his body very still against the rock.
Letting me decide how far we would go. But his kisses were earnest, almost fervent, and I could taste the relief on his lips.
I could feel it inside me, as well, pulsing through my body, easing the terrible weight that had been crushing my heart.
I couldn’t forget what he was, but for this moment at least, this wasn’t a kahjai or an assassin or the servant of a Deathless queen. This was just Raithe.
He let out a soft sigh as we drew back slightly, our foreheads still pressed together. His eyes were closed, and I could feel
his heart racing beneath my palm. “Are we all right, Sparrow?” he murmured, his voice just a breath between us. His eyes opened,
pale blue and solemn, gazing into mine. “Am I forgiven?”
I blinked moisture from my eyes and nodded, and he relaxed. One hand rose and pressed to my cheek once more. “No more secrets,”
he said, holding my gaze. “I promise, Sparrow. Anything you want to know, just ask. I won’t keep anything from you, ever again.”
I shook my head. “I know your people have their secrets, Raithe,” I whispered. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I’m not.” He brushed a strand of hair from my eyes. “Ask me something,” he said, a gentle challenge. “Anything you want.”
My heart stuttered. There were so many things I wanted answers to. About the queen, the kahjai code, the fate hanging over
his head. Did Raithe know he was fated to die? Why had he kissed me that first night in Damassi if the kahjai code forbade
attachments? And if the queen forced him to choose between obeying her and hurting us, what would he ultimately decide?
All these thoughts rushed through my head in a heartbeat. But when I opened my mouth, the question that came out was something
else entirely.
“Who was that kahjai from the tavern in Irrikah?”
Raithe blinked. For a moment, he looked surprised before an amused smile crossed his lips.
“Of all the questions you could ask,” he chuckled, as my cheeks flamed.
I started to pull away, but his fingertips brushed my face, stopping me.
“Kynessa is a fellow kahjai, Sparrow,” he said softly.
“I’m assuming you meant her, and not Branyl, who was also at the tavern that night.
When I became kahjai and joined the Order, Kynessa took me under
her wing and mentored me because I had no one else. She’s always been sort of an older sister. If a little overprotective.”
“Oh,” I breathed. “Then, you and Kynessa . . . ?”
He shook his head. “There’s only one person I’ve ever been interested in,” he murmured, running his fingers through my hair.
“I want to try again, with no secrets this time. You know what I am and who I serve. I hope . . .” His brow furrowed, and
he dropped his gaze. “I hope you can look past the Deathless queen’s assassin and just see the iylvahn who is crazy for you.”
My throat was tight. I swallowed hard to find my voice. “I’m sorry too, Raithe,” I whispered, feeling his solemn gaze on me.
“I should have trusted you more than I did. I hope you can be patient with me while I figure this whole thing out.”
“I’ve waited for you my whole life.” Raithe’s voice was so soft I barely caught it. “I can be patient awhile longer. Although . . .”
He hesitated, and for a moment, the skilled, deadly queen’s assassin seemed almost shy. “Does ‘figuring it out’ mean that
you’re not going to kiss me again?”
I almost laughed, feeling the weight in my chest ease. For this single moment in time, everything was back to normal. Back to the easy way things had been between us. “Do you want it to?” I asked.
“Not really, no.”
“What do you want, then, Raithe?” I leaned back. “Tell me. Let’s hear it.”
He raised a brow, one corner of his mouth curling up. “You’re going to make a wounded man beg?” he asked, though his tone
was teasing, too.
“You said you would be honest with me.”
“I did.” He sighed, though the faint smile remained. “Kiss me, then, Fateless,” he whispered. “Before I lose any more of my
dignity.”
I smiled, leaned down, and pressed my lips to his, letting him draw me close. There were no more questions, and this time,
the kiss lasted for several long moments, while my heart threatened to beat its way out of my chest.
A thump outside caused us both to still.
Drawing back from each other, we listened as heavy footsteps came up the path. I held my breath and saw Raithe’s hand drift
to his sword hilt, as we waited to see if the sudden arrival was a statue . . . or something else.
“Wait, there’s Ratuk,” came Halek’s familiar voice, and I slumped in relief. “Sparrow?” he called, voice rising in volume.
“Raithe? Are you here?”
“Fatechaser, shush,” hissed Kysa’s voice. “Do you want to attract more statues?”
“Oh, right! Sorry.”
I rose and went outside. The imposing bulk of Rhyne was coming up the path, Kysa and Halek perched on his back. Halek spotted me and leaped off the rock beetle. I threw my arms around him as he embraced me in a fierce hug and spun us in a circle.
“Sparrow.” Pulling back, the Fatechaser grinned, not bothering to hide his relief. “You made it. I told Kysa you would. Where’s
Raithe?” he added, looking around in sudden alarm. “Is he here? I see Ratuk, but no sand dragon Did our good assassin . . . ?”
He trailed off as the tower door squeaked behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Raithe step out and nod to both Halek
and Kysa. He had put his hood and tunic back on, hiding the binding over his ribs, but I could see the stiffness of his movements
and knew his wound still hurt.
“Oh.” Halek straightened, then gave the iylvahn a wry grin. “You’re alive. Thank Maederyss.” Though his words were teasing,
the tone and the look in his eyes were genuine. “I was worried about what our Fateless would do if her kahjai were suddenly
no more. Also, I would much rather have you around to protect us. I would do it, of course, but I’m far too charming to be
an effective killer.”
Kysa approached on Rhyne, the insect rider studying him critically from atop the beetle’s back. “You’re injured,” she said
flatly.
Raithe gave a tired nod. “Broken rib. Nothing serious. It won’t affect my abilities.”
“Good. Your abilities are the only reason you are here, after all.”
Raithe didn’t react to that, but I suppressed a wince at the insect rider’s tone.
I was about to say something, but suddenly noticed a patch of dried blood on Halek’s jacket sleeve, where the fabric had been torn.
“Halek, what happened?” I asked, touching the ripped, bloody cloth, trying to see the injury beneath. “Are you hurt?”
He saw where I was looking and grimaced.
“Oh, this. We were under a temple or something when one of those statues suddenly dropped from the roof and latched on to
my arm. Thankfully, it fell when my sleeve ripped, but it took a bit of skin with it, and worse, it tore my jacket. I like
this jacket.” He pouted.
“You’re lucky it didn’t tear off your arm,” Kysa remarked, her lips drawn in what was either annoyance or worry. She huffed.
“But I suppose luck is something you just have in abundance, for I have never seen someone dodge Fate as much as you.”
“Ha-ha, and I will continue to dodge, as long as our beloved Fateless is with us.” Halek grinned at me again, and I couldn’t
help but smile. We were back together, everyone was alive, and we had survived the night of killer statues. The hardest part
was still to come, but I was pretty content with Fate at the moment.
“Oh, and Ratuk? He was amazing, by the way,” Halek continued, gazing past me to where the rock beetle was standing by the
tower door. “Cutting through those statues like they weren’t even there. I’ve never seen him so riled up.”
“Yes,” Kysa agreed. She slid off Rhyne, patted the rock beetle’s shell, and walked up to me.
Her dark eyes were appraising as they met mine.
“The rock beetles don’t react that way for everyone,” she told me.
“Only for their riders, and only if the connection is real. Now you know your mount will do anything for you. Treat him well, rider. He is very much a part of you.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. Kysa sighed and looked around, surveying the watchtower, then the surrounding forest. “This place
appears safe enough,” she mused. “Not that I wish to stay in this forest longer than we have to, but I am exhausted, we’ve
sustained injuries, and the beetles could use a few hours to recuperate.” She paused, then turned stiffly to Raithe. “What
are your thoughts, kahjai? These are your people’s lands. Do we rest here, or should we move on?”
“We can rest here for a bit.” Per normal, Raithe did not react to the insect rider’s coldness toward him. “Now that the suns
are up, it should be fairly safe. I’ll keep watch for any statues, but the spirits should be quiet until nightfall.”
“But we should be out of the Dead Lands by then, right?” Halek asked, gazing around nervously, as if he could sense statues
watching us from the trees. “No offense, kahjai, but I think I’d rather spend the night in that haunted tomb I mentioned.
At least there, all I had to worry about was candles being stabbed in uncomfortable places.”
Raithe shook his head. “Unfortunately, we have one more night of this,” he said, to Halek’s obvious dismay. “It takes three
days to cross the valley on foot, assuming you can make it out alive. But we should be past the most populated area. Now that
we know what to expect, we can avoid the statues until morning.”