Page 104

Theron drew his bow, pointing the next flaming arrow at them.

Zara kicked her heels into Changa’s sides. The behelgi leapt forward, and the arrow embedded itself in the dirt where they’d just been standing.

Zara urged Changa onward, pulling at her mane to steer her toward Theron. Cold wind buffeted Zara’s face and tugged at her hair as Changa galloped toward the hill.

Nero’s voice was close to her ear, which was probably all that kept it from being lost in the wind. “What are you going to do?”

She shook her head. “I do not know. Fight him. Kill him.”

“How?”

Zara hesitated to answer the question. She guided Changa around the back of the hill and then began winding upward. Theron was out of sight now, on the other side of a spire of rock.

“What is this magic he’s using?” Nero asked.

“I saw him healing himself before. Now he has this fire, too. I do not know what else awaits us.”

“Zara, wait.” He reached around her to grasp Changa’s mane and pull them to a stop.

“We cannot wait. He is attacking the others.” Zara turned to look back at him. He was watching her with a concerned crease between his eyebrows. His hand spread over her ribs beneath her breasts, hugging her protectively.

“We could just leave,” he said quietly. His expression shifted slightly, turning hopeful and guilty and fearful all at once. “We could turn around now and not look back.”

She didn’t understand. Theron represented everything Nero hated most in the world. He wanted the man dead as much as she did. Maybe more. “Leave? And abandon everyone?”

“This is going to be dangerous,” he said. “More dangerous than we knew.”

She held his hand tightly, trying not to show how much she shared his fear. “We knew we would have to face him eventually. The time is now.” She started to turn back around, but she heard Nero’s breath catch.

“Zara,” he said quickly, stopping her again. After a moment of thought, he climbed down from Changa and helped her down after him. Zara looked at him quizzically.

“I know you do not really want to leave,” she said.

Nero grimaced. “You’re right. I don’t.” His eyes were intense, his teeth clenched. A silence stretched. Zara sensed something important coming, and her heart began beating a little faster.

“I don’t want you to be hurt again,” he said finally.

“I will not be,” she said, and she felt a faint pang of guilt, because that was probably a lie.

“I don’t want you to be hurt like that ever again. When you’re in pain, I’m in pain.”

“Everything will be all right, Nero.”

He went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “But you’re right—we can’t turn back now. So I need to tell you this now, in case something happens to either of us: I love you. I never realized how much I needed you until you were here. And now I don’t know if I could live without you. I need you to know that. Do you understand?”

Zara’s heart nearly stopped. Nero’s lips twitched nervously, as if still, even now, he thought that she might reject him. But he seemed relieved to have the words out. Zara wondered how long he’d been waiting to say them. She wondered if he’d ever said them to anyone else before.

“You will not have to be without me,” she said. Her eyes were suddenly damp.

He cupped her face with his hands. “That wasn’t supposed to make you cry.”

“I know.”

He kissed her.

And then he faded.

“I’ll go ahead of you and distract him,” he said. “He won’t see you coming if you stay hidden. Wait for me to attack first, then strike.”