Page 107 of Scorched Earth

Only when all the tears in her were spent did her sobs cease, and Killian said, “Do you know how to do what Ceenah did? Can you replicate it?”

“I’m not sure.” She wiped her nose on her filthy sleeve, well aware that she was desperately in need of a wash and fresh clothes. “I know how to take the life in. I know how to put it into a person. Only I’ve never tried to do one into the other, and certainly not to take and just… dump it into the air. Yet obviously it’s possible.”

“Ceenah may be willing to teach you,” he said. “For all she has denied us an alliance and the army that would come with it, it doesn’t seem she’s willing to withhold knowledge of the workings of the gods, good and bad, else why did she send information aboutthe blight to Serrick? The worst thing she might do is say no, and then you can figure it out yourself.” He hesitated. “You can try it on me, if you want.”

Lydia’s breath hitched as he lifted one of her hands, slowly peeling up the leather of her glove. It was sticky with sweat, her hands dirty and her nails ringed with grime. To cover her rising panic, she choked out, “I really need a bath.”

“We all need a bath,” he murmured, removing his own glove, and holding his hand up so that there was only an inch between her palm and his. “I trust you, Lydia. If you can’t trust yourself, trust that I can take care of myself. Or at the very least scream for Agrippa to rescue me.”

There was a sudden thump against the wall, then another and another, and Lydia’s cheeks colored. “I think perhaps he’s occupied.”

“I was wondering when he’d find the courage,” Killian said with a laugh, glancing at the wall separating the rooms and shaking his head before returning his scrutiny to her. “Truthfully, I might rather die than scream for his help, because he’d never let me live it down.”

“True.” Her laughter faded as she examined their hands, her focus shifting to the brilliant light of life surrounding his skin, the allure of it palpable, even now. “I don’t know if I can do it again.”

“I won’t make you.”

“I know.”

Quivering, she slowly pressed her palm to his larger one. Killian’s skin was warm, callused from a lifetime of combat, and her breath hitched as their fingers interlocked, because she wanted this so badly. Wanted to be able to touch him, to show with her hands, her lips, her body how she felt in her heart.

Take it.

The voice entered her thoughts like poison, and she jerked away. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

Snatching up her glove, Lydia twisted away from him, pacing the room. Furious at herself for not being able to do such a small thing. For being weak. For having no self-control. She pressed her forehead against the wall, seeking calm, only for the sounds of Agrippa and Malahi doing exactly what she wanted to do with Killian to invade her ears. Their freedom to do whatever they wanted with no consequence sent a sudden rush of jealousy through her veins, a scream rising in her throat to tell them toshut up.

Killian’s hands pressed down on her shoulders. “Think of how far you’ve come in such a short time,” he said. “Not so long ago, youcould barely look at me without feeling the Corrupter’s pull. Now you can sleep at my side with no fear in your heart.” He rotated her and pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Your hands are just the last little piece you need to gain victory over.”

“They aren’t a little thing.”

“But they are the last thing.” His voice was steady as he gently pushed her across the room. “There’s a bathing chamber in here. Go get cleaned up, put on the clothes the Anuk have given you, and then go ask to speak to Ceenah. Listen to what she has to say before you leap to conclusions.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, unable to keep the misery from her voice.

Picking up a banana from the tray of fruit that had been left for them, Killian said, “I’m going to find Xadrian.”

“Why?” She made a face. “He’s awful.”

“Because my gut tells me it’s the right thing to do.” He walked backward toward the door. “You know I always trust my innards when there is an important decision to be made.”

Lydia smiled, unable to help herself because it had been so long since she’d seen him smirk like that. “Be careful.”

“Unlikely.” He winked at her, and then disappeared out the door.

In the bathing chamber, she discovered a narrow tub filled with cool water, along with several choices of soap, and the pleasure of washing away days upon days of filth from her skin and hair did much to ease her distress.

As she dressed in the loose trousers and tunic made of linen that had been left for her use, Lydia put her mind to all she’d learned in the space of a day that could change everything. They finally had proof of their suspicions that Malahi had the power to drive back the blight, if not exact answers as to how. Yet the knowledge that it had been done before, along with how aggressively Rufina had first tried to corrupt Malahi and then fought to get her back, was a glowing beacon of hope where once there’d been only a candle.

Lydia pulled on her worn boots and then went to the door. The corridor was empty. Baird’s snoring emanated from the room down the hall, along with the faint howling of the wind outside the thick sandstone of the palace, but she heard no other sign of other people. Lydia felt an abrupt sense of claustrophobia, knowing they were trapped inside the building for some time, at least according toBaird. She brushed away the sensation and tentatively knocked on the door to the room shared by her other two companions.

“Who is it?” Agrippa asked from the far side.

“Lydia.”

The door cracked and the ex-legionnaire peeked through, what looked like a candlestick held in one of his hands. Seemingly satisfied, he opened the door and stepped out, closing it most of the way behind him. “She’s asleep,” he said in Cel, showing no discomfort about his shirtless state, the 37 tattoo on his chest black against his golden-brown skin. “Where’s Killian?”

“He went to talk to Xadrian. Is Malahi well?” She answered in Cel too, in case anyone was listening to them.