Page 9 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope (The Children Of The Gods #100)

TAMIRA

E ver since finding out about Darien's escape, Tamira had been doing her best to avoid Areana, sitting at the far end of the library while they were working on saving the books and on the other side of the table during meals, but she couldn't pretend anymore.

It festered inside of her, making her bitter and even affecting her relationship with Eluheed, who had nothing to do with any of it. It was between her and Areana, but the sense of betrayal permeated everything. It was eating away at her like acid.

It was time to air out her grievance before it destroyed her.

She found Areana exactly where she'd expected, sitting on the carved stone bench beside the fountain in the interior garden.

How many conversations had they shared on that bench?

How many secrets whispered, tears shed, small rebellions planned?

Areana looked up as Tamira approached, and something in her expression suggested she'd been expecting this. Perhaps even waiting for it.

"May I?" Tamira gestured to the space beside her.

"Of course." Areana shifted slightly, making room. "I'm surprised that you are actually seeking me out. You've been avoiding me for the past few days."

There was no accusation in the words, just a statement of fact.

Tamira sat down, the familiar stone cool through the thin fabric of her dress. For a moment, neither spoke. The fountain's gentle splash filled the silence, a sound that had once been soothing but now seemed to mock the turmoil in Tamira's stomach.

"The beach was lovely," she finally said, her voice carefully neutral. "The water was warmer than I expected. I hope we get to experience that again soon."

Areana tilted her head with a frown. "It was indeed lovely, but it seems a little random to bring it up now."

"A guard brought me a towel." Tamira kept her eyes on the water, watching the ripples spread and fade. "I told him I didn't need one, but he insisted."

Areana nodded. "I remember wondering what was going on."

"He wanted to tell me something." Tamira's hands clenched in her lap, fingers twisting the fabric of her dress. "The towel was an excuse."

The air between them seemed to thicken. Areana had gone very still, the kind of stillness that came from five thousand years of learning to control every reaction.

"He told me that he knew my son." The words came out flat, emotionless, because if Tamira let herself feel them, she might shatter. "My son, Darien. The guard served under him."

She turned then, watching Areana's face with the intensity of someone who had learned to read the smallest tells.

There it was, the flash of recognition, quick as lightning.

Then came the calculation, the rapid assessment of what to say, what to admit.

And finally, what seemed like a decision to stop pretending.

"You knew." Tamira's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the gravitas of centuries of trust. "You knew Kalugal took him when he defected."

Areana closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them, they held a weariness that seemed infinite. "I didn't know that Darien served with Kalugal."

"But you knew Kalugal defected. You knew he took others with him."

"Yes." The single word fell between them like a stone into still water.

Tamira felt something crack inside her chest. "How long have you known?"

"Since it happened." Areana's voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly before she clasped them together. "Navuh told me. Not everything, he never tells me everything, but he gave me morsels of news about our sons. Occasional fragments. It's not like I got daily accounts."

"Morsels." The word tasted bitter in Tamira's mouth. "And you never thought to share these morsels with the rest of us?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Areana turned to face her fully now, and there was pain in those ancient blue eyes. "That I occasionally received news while the rest of you heard nothing? That my mate's love, twisted as it is, granted me privileges you were denied?"

"You could have told me about Kalugal. You must have known there was a chance?—"

"I didn't know." Areana's interruption was sharp. "Navuh told me Kalugal staged his death in Japan during the nuclear attack. He had no proof, but he said it didn't make sense. Kalugal and his men had no reason to be anywhere near the epicenter, or even in the outer zones."

Tamira studied her face, searching for deception. "But you suspected that they survived."

"Navuh believes they did. Whether he told me that to spare me grief or because he genuinely believed it, I don't know." Areana's composure cracked. "Navuh is not kind, but he's not needlessly cruel to me either. It's complicated."

"Complicated." Tamira stood abruptly, unable to sit still any longer. She paced to the fountain's edge, staring into the cascading water. "This is simple. My son might be alive and free, and you knew there was a possibility, and you said nothing."

"I didn't know that Darien served under Kalugal," Areana repeated.

"Navuh prefers to keep his sons away from one another so they won't collude and plot against him, so I didn't have a reason to even suspect that.

I didn't even know that he was allowed to keep the name you gave him.

Most of them have their names changed when they're taken from us. "

There was something in her voice, a note of genuine surprise about the name that rang true. But Tamira could sense layers beneath, secrets within secrets.

"What else do you know?" She turned back to Areana, her gaze boring into her friend's eyes. Could she still call her a friend? "What else are you hiding?"

"I don't know anything else about Darien."

"You're lying." The accusation came out flat, certain. "Maybe not about Darien, but I know that you are not telling me everything. I've known you for five thousand years, Areana. I know when you're holding back."

Areana's mask slipped for just a moment, revealing something raw and desperate underneath. "There are things I cannot say. Things that would endanger everyone if spoken aloud."

"Cannot or will not?"

"Both." Areana stood as well, moving closer but not touching. They faced each other like adversaries, though they'd never been that before. "There are secrets that aren't mine to share, Tamira. Burdens I carry that I cannot divulge, not even to you."

"Tell me this at least—if you learn anything more about Darien, will you tell me?"

"Yes," Areana said immediately.

But she averted her eyes as she said it, a tell so obvious that Tamira almost laughed. Areana rarely let her true emotions show through the mask of tranquility she usually wore.

"You won't." It wasn't a question. "You'll weigh the information, calculate the risks, decide what's best for everyone, and you'll keep it to yourself if you think that's safer."

Areana's silence was answer enough.

They stood there, two females who had survived together through thousands of years, and Tamira felt the foundation of their relationship shifting beneath her feet. Not breaking—it was too strong for that, forged in too much shared pain and small joys—but changing into something a little colder.

"I would have probably done the same," Tamira admitted suddenly, surprising herself. "In your position, with your privileges and your burdens, I probably would have made the same choice."

"Tamira—"

"But that doesn't make it hurt less." She moved past Areana toward the bench, sinking onto it with a weariness that seemed to pull her bones toward the earth. "It erodes my trust in you."

Areana sat beside her, careful to leave space between them. "I never lied to you, and the information I withheld had nothing to do with you. I never knew the names of the soldiers Kalugal had taken with him. Navuh had no reason to tell me."

Tamira nodded. "What else did he tell you about their escape? Now that I know Darien's fate is entangled with Kalugal's, everything you find out about your son might shed light on mine."

"I don't think Navuh knows where Kalugal is or what he's doing. And just because he occasionally tells me things doesn't mean I know my sons. Lokan—" She stopped abruptly, pressing her lips together.

"Lokan, what?" Tamira pounced on the slip.

Areana was silent for a long moment, clearly warring with herself. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible. "He thinks that Lokan was captured. He's alive, and..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "I shouldn't be telling you this."

"Who captured him?"

Areana shook her head. "I've already said too much." Areana rubbed her face with both hands, a gesture so uncharacteristically uncontrolled that it startled Tamira. "I'm tired of carrying all these secrets."

The fountain continued its eternal cascade, indifferent to the small drama playing out beside it.

"What kind of man did Kalugal become before he defected?" Tamira asked.

Areana's expression softened. "Brilliant, learned.

He was never meant for military life, but he excelled at it anyway.

Navuh said he had a talent for strategy but hated the application of it.

He would have made a great leader. He is a leader.

I have to believe that he still leads the group of soldiers who defected with him. Including your son."

"He gathered others like him," Tamira mused. "Others who hated wars. They were all so brave to escape."

"Or desperate," Areana countered. "We don't know what drove them to take such a risk. What pushed them to do it?"

"Does it matter? They got out. He got them out." Tamira felt tears prick her eyes. "My son might be free, Areana. Actually free. Not serving in Navuh's army, but free to make his own choices."

"If he survived," Areana said gently. "We don't know that for sure."

"Don't." Tamira's voice turned sharp. "Don't take this hope from me. It's all I have."

"I'm not trying to take anything from you. I'm trying to protect you from disappointment."

Tamira laughed, but there was no humor in it. "What could possibly hurt more than not knowing? More than wondering if my baby is alive, if he remembers my face, if he ever thinks of me?"

"The certainty that he doesn't," Areana said quietly. "That's what could hurt more."

The words hung between them like a blade.

Tamira wanted to argue, but she knew Areana was right.

The not knowing was agony, but it also allowed for hope.

It allowed her to imagine Darien happy somewhere, perhaps with a family of his own, perhaps sometimes wondering about his birth mother, who had held him for nine precious months before he was taken away.

But he could've forgotten her and believed that the Dormant who had raised him in the Dormants' enclave was his real mother.

"I still want to know," she said. "Whatever the truth is, I want to know."

"I understand." Areana reached out tentatively, her hand hovering near Tamira's. "May I?"

She looked at the offered hand for a long moment before taking it. Areana's fingers were cool, familiar, and, despite everything, comforting.

"This changes things between us," Tamira said, not a question, but a statement of fact.

"I know."

"I still don't trust you the same way I did before. I can't."

"I know that."

"But I still love you." The admission surprised Tamira, but it was true. "You're still my sister in everything but blood. That will never change."

Areana's grip tightened. "I love you too. And I'm sorry. Not for the choices I made because I still believe they were right, but for your pain."

Tamira squeezed back before releasing Areana's hand and standing. "I need time to process all of this."

"Of course." Areana remained seated, looking up at her with those ancient blue eyes that held so many secrets.

"Thank you," Tamira said before walking away.

Their altered relationship shifted her reality. They would continue as they had for millennia—supporting each other and maintaining the delicate balance that kept them all sane. But underneath, everything had changed.

The trust that had been absolute was now conditional. The secrets that had been invisible were now known to exist, even if their content remained hidden.

But to know that Darien might be free, might be living a life she could never give him, burned in her chest like a small, precious flame that kept her hope alive.