Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Erix

F inally, I understood. The restlessness of the desert since I had arrived—since I had plucked this exile from the sands—had not been my own magic, but Keera’s. The supernatural lightning storm that reminded me so much of the ones I had summoned as a child with nightmares were exactly that. A symptom of panic and uncontrolled emotion from the woman before me.

Through my hand at the base of her skull, I wrapped my ironclad control around her mind, containing the sudden swell that had threatened to rend the air around us just moments before. I grit my teeth in surprise at the strength with which her power thrashed, but it calmed quickly at my touch. Meanwhile, my own power perked up at the use, as if I had signaled it to ready for battle.

The man Keera had been dancing with—the one I had pegged as a diplomat a few days ago—frowned up at me. His expression seemed disgruntled, but I didn’t miss the way his gaze darted over me, as if taking stock. I didn’t bother to stand up taller or square my shoulders.

“I’m not sure—”

“It’s fine.” Keera cut him off.

After a moment of hesitation, the diplomat backed up and melted into the crowd, although the weight of his gaze remained heavy upon us even as I lost sight of him. I ignored it, keeping my attention on Keera, who still hadn’t turned.

I debated pulling my hand away now that she had calmed, but I could feel the softness of the hairs that escaped her braid tickling my fingers. I don’t know why I had touched her in the first place. While it helped with using magic on somebody, I was surely powerful enough to do without.

My pinky finger drifted back and forth in infinitesimal movements.

Instead of turning away, I stepped forward into Keera’s space, standing close enough that we could have passed for dancing if we swayed. I could have sworn she shivered at my proximity. It seemed the press of people around her had triggered the near loss of control—something I could understand too well—but her magic remained contained despite the fact that I stood close enough to feel the heat of her body radiating off her.

“How could you tell?” she murmured, quietly enough that none of the dancers around us continuing in their celebrations would be able to hear her question.

I chewed my tongue before answering. The truth was, I had been watching her. I planned to stay in my tent and avoid the celebrations altogether, but something urgent in the beat of the drums had driven me out—pulled me toward the revelry at the center of the encampment. Lurking in the shadows, I watched the twirl of dancing bodies and breathed in the air fragrant with woodsmoke and spiced food—wishing for the clean smell of hot earth and horseflesh.

My gaze had snapped to Keera as soon as she entered the crowd of revelers, and the magic within me twitched as she began to sway. The moment the diplomat pressed her against him, I was weaving through the dancers toward where they stood. It must have been the swell of her magic, pulling me inexorably toward its source.

Keera began to turn to look at me, but I tightened my grip on the back of her neck to stop her, realizing that she was waiting for an answer. Even though she couldn’t see my face, I oddly didn’t want the weight of her stare.

“It’s hard not to feel your lack of control.” My words came out unusually harsh, as if I spat them out with great disgust .

Keera stiffened. “If you just came to insult me then…” She began to step away.

“You need help,” I cut in before I could stop myself. “I—I could help.”

“Your help is the last thing I need.” Before any more unwise words could tumble from my mouth, she stormed off through the dancers, not stopping as she reached the edges of the celebration but continuing on toward the gates of the city.

My attention returned toward the celebration around me. I realized now that I stood at near the center of what served as the dancefloor, the rhythmic movement continuing around me and giving me a slight berth as I stood stock still. I was a dark rock in the bubbling of a spring, blocking its cheerful flow.

I turned and stalked back to my tent, breathing heavily through my nose. It had been unwise to go to the party, and even less well thought out to offer Keera my help. She stood between me and the Champion’s circlet—the fall of Kelvadan—and would be eliminated like every obstacle that faced me.

Still, the more I thought on it, the less I regretted my offer. I couldn’t afford a slip in my restraint now. Even when I had been leagues away, her turmoil had threatened my control, tugging at the strings of madness that always hovered at the edges of my awareness. This close, combined with the unease from sleeping in the shadow of Kelvadan, the uncontrolled waves of her magic threatened my very sanity.

The encampment at my back was quiet, everybody still asleep after the dancing and feasting had lasted well into the night. While food for many of the clans had been scarce recently, the yield of the opening hunt had provided ample meat. Despite the sleepiness of the clans and the city behind it, the desert was awake, and I let the feeling of the hidden life stretching beyond the horizon fill my bones.

I sat on the ridge of a dune a way out from the encampment, the sun just a threat of light below the horizon while the sliver of moon shown bright overhead. I always rose before dawn, but I had been unable to sleep long under the canvas roof of my tent and ventured out even earlier than usual. Zephyr fluttered back from wherever he had been hunting, landing at my side and pecking at the lizard he’d caught himself. I watched him with envy, wishing I too could fly away as I wished.

The shifting and squeaking of sand underfoot signaled somebody’s approach from the encampment, but I did not turn. I knew it was Keera, and wondered for a moment how she knew where I was, but concluded quickly it was the same way I could identify her footsteps at this distance in the dark. After all, who else would be coming to see the Viper in the dark of night? And surely nobody else pulsed so strongly with power that the strings at the base of my skull tugged insistently in response.

Her feet swished quietly over the sand as she approached, stopping beside me. I didn’t look up, keeping my arms folded loosely across my knees. She paused for a moment before sitting off to the side, mirroring my position as she too gazed at the horizon. Out of the corner of my mask, I could just spot her toes digging into the sand, apparently having walked out here barefoot. She sat far enough away that several more people could have fit between us, and it struck me as painfully close as well as awkwardly distant.

“Why?”

I stayed silent. She could have been asking me any sort of question, but I knew she was asking about my offer to help her. If she was here though, sneaking out of her comfortable bed somewhere in Kelvadan, I knew she was considering it for the same inscrutable reason I had offered. Ever since I happened upon her in the wilds, we were like two hawks circling above our prey, encountering each other at every turn, but inexorably drawn to the same target.

She huffed at my lack of answer. “Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” I said, voice low with warning. “But I’d bet whatever the queen is trying to teach you is only making your situation worse.”

It was an educated guess, but the long pause before Keera responded confirmed my suspicions. Her power would not have escaped the queen’s notice and could likely be credited with her finding a place in Kelvadan so quickly, but I did not envy her. I could still taste the lyra leaf tea on my tongue sometimes, and in the darkest hours of the night, I felt the weight of the mountains pushing in around me, an oppressive silence filling my mind as I was cut off from the desert. The silence disturbed me even more than the hum that made me want to tear my skull open to let it out.

“Wouldn’t it be to your advantage for your adversary to not be able to control their magic?” she asked.

“Maybe once I show you the truth of the power of you wield, you won’t be my adversary anymore.”

“Unlikely,” she shot back without hesitation.

“Besides,” I started, chancing a glance over at her, as if I could see the magic dancing off her skin instead of feeling it with the odd sense that lived at the nape of my neck, “you’re throwing off so much turmoil that I can feel it halfway across the desert. It makes it hard to get anything done.”

“How do you know it’s from me and not your own turmoil?”

I barked out a humorless laugh, and Keera jumped at the noise.

“I’ve become familiar enough with the feeling of my own madness over the years to know that this is not mine. At first, I thought I was losing control, but after tonight, I’m sure you were the source of the disturbance.”

Keera turned to look at me too, narrowed eyes glinting in the moonlight. “You’re just telling me this so I’ll agree to whatever trap you’ve concocted.”

“Today you lost control when you were crowded in a large group. Maybe it has happened like that before,” I mused out loud. “It was at the Kelvadan festival, wasn’t it? I was sitting in my tent that night and I could feel it all the way at Clan Katal’s encampment.”

Keera’s shoulders slumped, and I knew I was right. I was glad, and yet somehow wished I wasn’t.

“Fine.”

My brows rose. I hadn’t actually expected her to agree to anything. “Fine?”

“You can try to teach me, but it doesn’t change anything else. I won’t let you win the Trials, and I won’t forget that you tried to kill me.”

“You were trying to rob me in my sleep,” I pointed out.

She ignored me. “And I’ll only talk to you at night. Nobody can see us together.”

“Of course. It wouldn’t do for that handsome diplomat to see you consorting with the Viper.” The retort came out more bitter than I’d hoped, but I knew she was right. I doubted Lord Alasdar would be pleased if he heard of me giving any aid to one who so clearly sided with Kelvadan. Keera was a distraction from the mission, but the whispers of the desert in my mind nudged me toward her insistently. First at the oasis, and again and again during the Trials. I got the overwhelming impression that her power was something important, and with the desert tearing itself apart at the seams, I couldn’t afford to ignore any signs.

“Then I’ll see you tonight, after most of the encampment is too drunk to notice me slip away.”

With that, Keera stood and marched back the way she came. Zephyr let out a low crow beside me as I watched her go. What had I gotten myself into? The voice of the desert in my head muttered in anticipation.

Keera’s approach broke me from the focus of my meditation, but I didn’t move right away, remaining kneeling with my fists clenched tightly on my knees. I took the opportunity to observe the writhing turmoil that sprouted from her in magical waves, amazed that I had been able to overlook it when I first encountered her. Perhaps it had grown wilder and more untamed, as mine had whenever Queen Ginevra insisted I suppress it.

I nearly snorted at the thought of anything about Keera being more untamed and feral than she had when I first met her. As if to prove my point, she lightly kicked sand at me and huffed noisily at my lack of acknowledgement.

“Saber forms,” I said as I stood with no other preamble .

Keera crossed her arms. “I already know saber forms. If this is just a trick to rob me of my sleep so I’m tired in the Trials, then I will march right back to the city.”

I ignored her accusation. “How do you feel when you practice your forms?”

Keera narrowed her eyes at me. In the dark of night, her face was mostly inscrutable, but the stars still caught in her golden eyes. “Better,” she admitted.

“The desert appreciates action. Practicing fighting, even on your own, can help calm your magic,” I explained.

She tiled her head in consideration but did not argue.

“Do the first form with me, and focus on how the magic inside you reacts, not just the movements,” I ordered.

I settled into the opening stance, feeling slightly off in the position without my saber in hand, but it wasn’t uncommon to train the movements empty handed. I hadn’t brought my sword, fearing if we were discovered with our swords drawn against each other, the incident would be twisted into foul play that ejected me from the Trials. As it was, I was taking an unconscionable risk by doing this.

After a moment of stillness, Keera settled into the stance next to me. We began to move, and after just a few breaths, Keera was already a few beats ahead of me. Perhaps she was surprised by how slowly I moved through the forms, many thinking that completing the exercises quickly was a sign of competence. For this purpose though, slower was better, and she soon fell in time with me.

By the end of the first form, when we both stood in the final position, our hands folded, palms facing down. Magic pulsed in the air. Maybe it was the reaction of my own power to her, but it seemed to ripple in time to my breaths.

“What did you feel?” I asked. The question sat oddly on my tongue, perhaps because such prompting was never how Lord Alasdar had taught me. Given our situation though, Lord Alasdar’s methods of pain and brutal discipline in teaching were not an option.

“I feel… good.”

Keera’s answer was simple, but I felt the truth in it.

“The magic responds well to an outlet of aggression and anger, although forms are a relatively controlled way of doing it.”

Keera stiffened before the words were out of my mouth. “I’m not aggressive.” She nearly hissed the words in a manner so at odds with her statement that I let out a snort of disbelief.

“You’re a feral little fighter,” I argued, although the insult came out less derisive than it sounded in my head.

She tilted her chin up in a set of defiance. “Maybe, but I’m not cruel like you.”

“I’m no crueler than the desert in which I live.” My tone held a growl of warning. “And you can lie to yourself about that if you like, but I know better. You almost let me die in that sand pit. Go ahead and reassure yourself of how noble you are at saving the life of your enemy, but I know you considered leaving me. Your spy told your queen ”—the word came out as a curse—“that my winning the Trials would lead to the clans uniting against Kelvadan, and letting me die could have solved that problem.”

Keera’s shoulders pulled toward her ears with tension, and her nostrils flared when I mentioned the spy.

“What did you do to Oren?” she demanded.

“Me? Nothing,” I admitted. “But Izumi drove her saber clean through his chest. He gave himself away by trying to cut a deal for information with one of the clan’s best riders.”

A series of emotions flitted over Keera’s face—shock, anger, guilt—but it settled into a flinty anger. Her expression was so hard she might have been the one wearing the mask.

I pushed forward, strings of my magic tangling unbidden in the swell of power around Keera, pulling conflicted emotions out of the swirl without a thought. “But despite but what Oren did tell you, and the fact that you had a chance to put an end to my time in the Trials, you’re glad we weren’t eliminated. You want to fight me again. And you want to be crowned Champion because that will mean you aren’t a disappointing exiled…nobody anymore.”

It was Keera’s turn to growl, her teeth bared in a snarl as her eyes flashed. “Stop trying to pretend that we are the same. That you understand me. ”

She turned on her heel and marched back toward the city gates, a lone dark silhouette across the moon-bleached sands. I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled, focusing on the sensation to yank my magic free of hers and shove it back into the confines of my skull. Despite Keera’s wishes, I understood her better than she thought.