Page 47

It was miserably hot out on the Barren Steppes.

I was used to heat. Heat was a way of life for everyone in Arkennyah. When the suns were up, it was hot. Sweat and sunburn

and sweltering temperatures were normal, and everyone found ways to live with it. Be that wearing light-colored clothing,

building a city with as much shade as possible, or sleeping through the worst of Demon Hour, life in the kingdom was all about

working around the scorching rays of the twins.

But out on the Barren Steppes, the heat was a different story. There was no shelter. No cloth overhangs, no buildings to duck

into, no trees to provide even the slimmest branch for shade. Solasti beat down on the hard-packed earth, unrelenting and

unmerciful, and I could feel her gaze searing the top of my head, my back, my shoulders. I guessed I just wasn’t used to it,

because Kysa seemed fine, in good spirits, even. For her, this scorched, sun-blasted stretch of wasteland was home.

The steppes went on, barren and unchanging. No one spoke much, not even Halek. Sometimes, I thought I saw figures moving in

the distance, but it was difficult to tell if they were real or mirages caused by the shimmering heat. Sometimes, we stumbled

across the bones of large creatures, half buried in red earth and dust. I wondered aloud what kind of animals lived here,

as I hadn’t seen any signs of life besides us.

“Those are the bones of a stonebeak bird,” Kysa explained, glancing at a large rib cage jutting out of the earth. “They’re the primary source of meat for our hunters and all the larger predators that live out here.”

“What predators?” Halek wondered, gazing around the barren landscape. “I haven’t seen anything out here except us.”

“They’re around,” Kysa assured him. “Nothing that lives in the steppes is active before Demon Hour. We might see a few at

the oasis, but almost everything waits until dusk to start hunting.”

“An oasis,” Halek said. “That sounds nice. It’s one of those oases with water and trees, correct? Not one of those havens

with bandits and thugs and things that want to kill you?”

“Bandits, no,” Kysa said. “I can’t say anything about the things that want to kill you.”

A couple of hours later, with Solasti directly above us and Namaia threatening to poke her head over the horizon, we spotted

a tiny circle of trees in the distance. As we drew closer, I saw that the trees were growing at the edge of a shallow pool,

the surface of which was so still, it looked like a giant mirror in the center of the barren expanse. A pair of large, flightless

birds, their feathers so thin they resembled spines, watched us from the other side of the pool. These were stonebeaks, Kysa

explained, but they were both female, so we didn’t have to worry about an attack. I was relieved, as the two birds had powerful

legs tipped with extremely long talons, and thick beaks that looked like they could crush rock with no effort at all.

The pool was barely a foot deep, but the water was cool and clear, fed by an underground spring, according to Kysa.

I refilled my canteen and splashed water over my face and neck, resisting the urge to lie down at the bottom of the pool.

A few paces down, Halek stuck his entire head in the water, then rose and tossed his hair back, flinging droplets everywhere.

Kysa rolled her eyes and continued to unsaddle Rhyne in the shade of one of the trees.

I looked at Raithe. He had said very little since we’d ventured onto the steppes, and he now stood a few paces away, gazing

toward the horizon with a distant, unreadable look on his face.

I paused, uncertain if he wanted—or was willing—to talk to me now. But he had always been polite, and his behavior had remained

unchanged since the night in Damassi. Well, except for the kiss, of course.

I took a quick breath, then walked up beside him. “You all right?”

He gave a short nod, but it was more weary than brusque. “Just thinking of home,” he murmured. “And what I’m going to tell

the queen when we finally meet with her.”

I blinked. “I thought it was your duty to bring me back, and that she’s waiting to speak to us in Irrikah.”

“That is true. However...” He paused, a pained look crossing his face. Taking a step back, he lowered himself onto a fallen

tree near the edge of the water. Resting his elbows on his knees, he bowed his head. “I was sent to Kovass to uncover the

evil lurking beneath the surface and put a stop to it,” he muttered. “To find members of the ma’jhet and cut their threads from the Weave.” Both hands curled into fists. “I failed. And because of that, the Deathless King is

now loose in the world.”

My heart clenched. Gathering my courage, I stepped forward and sat beside him on the log, our knees just inches apart.

“It wasn’t your fault, Raithe,” I said, staring at the horizon with him.

“If anything, I’m the reason Kovass fell.

I went into the ancient city. I brought the soulstone back to the surface. None of this would have

happened if...”

I faltered. I was going to say if I had refused the Circle’s order to retrieve the soulstone , but there was no way I could have refused, and we both knew it. Too much had been at stake; the knowledge that the Circle

would kill me if I failed and my desire to prove myself to Vahn would have kept me going, even through the danger. There was

only one way I wouldn’t have brought the soulstone out of the ancient city.

Raithe gave me a shadowed look that said he knew what I was thinking. “If I had killed you,” he murmured. “Down in the undercity.”

My stomach churned, wondering if he regretted that now. Maybe my death would have been for the best. One unimportant thief

dying to stop the rise of a Deathless King? It seemed a small price to pay.

Raithe gave a small, sad smile and faced forward again. “I’m glad I didn’t,” he said quietly. “I thank Maederyss that Fate—or

luck, or whatever you wish to call it—was on your side that night. But the queen won’t see it that way. I had a mission to

stop whatever corruption was lurking beneath the city, by whatever means possible. By the time I knew what I was really dealing

with, it was too late. And now I can only face the consequences of my failure.”

“What will happen to you?” I whispered.

“It depends,” he replied. “I... have never failed a mission before, so I’m not entirely certain myself.

But on the rare occasion that a kahjai cannot complete what they are sent to do, they aren’t usually punished.

” A bitter smile twisted one corner of his mouth.

“Then again, those failures don’t usually involve the destruction of an entire city and possibly all the kingdoms beyond.

Because I didn’t stop the Circle, thousands of people lost their lives, and millions more will meet the same fate.

If the queen does see fit to punish me, I can’t say that I blame her. ”

Fear and defiance flared within. Without stopping to think, I reached out and put my hand over his, making him blink and glance

at me in surprise.

“If she does, she’ll have to punish us both,” I told him. “This is not your fault, Raithe. You did everything you could to

stop it. I... helped it happen. She has more reason to blame me for the rise of the Deathless King than you.”

“You’re the Fateless,” Raithe said quietly. “You’re too important. She won’t act against you.”

That made my stomach do a weird little twist. He said it with such confidence. Raithe knew something about the Fateless that

he wasn’t telling me, but asking him about it now, when he was admitting something so painful, seemed wrong. I didn’t know

what I could do against the queen of the iylvahn, but if the Fateless was so important, I didn’t have any problems leveraging

that to help Raithe.

I squeezed his hand. “Well, if she wants my cooperation at all, she won’t act against you, either,” I told him. “You’re the

reason I’m here. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Raithe murmured. Leaning in, he touched his forehead to mine, and my heart leaped. “But thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Aw, you two are so lovely together,” Halek commented, making me jerk up. Raithe eyed him with weary annoyance. The Fatechaser

grinned and took a sip from his waterskin. “Kysa says we’re going to stay here through Demon Hour,” he went on breezily. “She’s

setting up a tent for us so we don’t get cooked. Just in case you want to help.”

“Me?” Raithe lifted a slender eyebrow. “What about you, Fatechaser?”

“Oh, I already tried to help, but she shooed me away after I sort of made the whole thing collapse.” He winced and gave a

helpless shrug. “It’s a very strange tent—I had no idea what I was doing, really.”

Raithe shook his head and rose. I glanced over and saw Kysa under one of the few scraggly trees, working on a strange tent,

indeed. It didn’t look like it was made of cloth, but sections of transparent, shimmery green curtains strung together. Like

the membranes of an insect’s wing, only much, much larger.

As Raithe walked away, Halek sat beside me and handed me his waterskin. I nodded and took a sip of cold spring water, knowing

the coolness wouldn’t last. The Fatechaser watched me, then bumped my shoulder with his own, his grin mischievous.

“Stop it.” I glared at him over the waterskin. “It’s not what you think.”

“No?” He leaned back, still smiling broadly. “So you haven’t been sneaking glances at our good assassin for the past three days? And he hasn’t been watching you like a mournful sand wolf cub when he thinks you’re not looking? And Kysa hasn’t been shaking her head

and rolling her eyes at the both of you because you’re both blindingly oblivious to what is happening? All that is just in

my head.”

I shoved the waterskin into his chest, making him topple backward off the log. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, as he landed on