Page 22

Time Is Not On My Side

“We should delay this,” Vos grumbles as we make our way through the camp.

“It’s a seriously bad idea,” Cain says at the same time that I say, “We can’t.”

We really can’t. But by taking Reven back from Eidolon, I’ve stirred up a scorpions’ nest. There’s no way the king won’t retaliate. We take back Oaesys now, or never.

“Never” loses us allies and a strong position of power from which to fight.

We’ve already taken more time than I like. Once Reven agreed to my deal, we immediately moved the entire zariphate to the Crimson Desert, hiding within a deep canyon as guests of the largest of the zariphates that normally roam these lands. From here, we’ll stage our attack.

All sense of scale is lost in this place as the canyon walls climb and climb and climb above us from where we stand beside the wide Aramithra River that carves through the land. We’re camped along the waters, nestled among red-rocked columns, arches, balanced boulders, and cathedral-like spires that should look huge, but are dwarfed by the canyon itself. Our tents, dotted over a wider, flat area, are meant to blend into the tans and whites of the Singing Dunes to the south, so here they pop against the background like maggots on a log.

To say I’m a nervous wreck would be an understatement.

We haven’t seen Reven since we moved here. He’s been holed up for two straight days in the smaller tent we gave him. The idea was to offer him privacy and space, but now it feels more like he’s planning to avoid all of us until this is over.

Yet another thing Tabra would have negotiated better.

Every second of those two days, I’ve had to fight my own longing just to see his face. Even a glimpse. But I get the sense that he’s testing us, and I won’t force him. If there’s one thing my odd family setup taught me, it’s that sometimes loving from a distance is just as powerful.

“He’s not ready,” Vos insists.

No kidding. “I know he’s not.”

“ You’re not ready,” Vos says more quietly.

Horus walks silently beside me. He’s always beside me, now. A shadow I can’t shake. I shoot him a sideways glance, but his expression reveals nothing.

I roll my shoulders. “I’m fine.”

Vos slides an assessing gaze over me that I don’t have to see to feel. “You sure about that?”

“Is making me say I’m not fine going to help anything?”

“Fair enough.” But then, like a dog with meat still on the bone, he keeps gnawing away. “You need to make him fall back in love with you before we go attack the capital,” he insists.

Has been insisting.

The last two days have really sucked.

“Does she really?” Cain grumbles behind us.

Vos shoots him a look over his shoulder. “Yes. She does. We need Reven on our side—”

“Vos!” I jerk to a halt hard enough that my shoes scuff the packed, red sand. Fast enough that Vos trips over himself a bit to stop with me.

“How?” I ask him.

He gives me a confused frown. “How what?”

I take a breath and lower my voice. “How am I supposed to make him love me?”

All he does is look more confused. “You did it before. You’re bondmates.”

“I’m pretty sure if I tried to tell him that right now, he’d kill me, take the Shadows, and disappear.”

Cain crosses his arms. “Maybe we should let him. I mean, not the killing part.”

“Not helping,” Vos snaps at Cain, then takes me by the shoulders. “Those feelings have to still be there, Meren. The bond makes sure.”

A truth I’ve been holding onto with what little hope I have left in me that the fates can only be so cruel.

“The bond makes sure we find each other in our afterlives. That’s not what this is.” I tilt my head back and stare up at the crystal-clear blue sky. Is crawling into a hole and hiding until this is over an option? “I don’t know how to make him fall in love with me.”

There. I said it. Admitted my deepest, darkest fear. The one that’s made it impossible to sleep, impossible to eat or breathe or think. That makes me a failure as a bondmate, right?

Vos drops his hands to his sides. “Meren…”

Behind him, Cain’s expression is unreadable. I’ve always been able to read him. That I can’t makes my already piss-poor mood even worse.

“I’m not saying I’m giving up on him.” I could never give up on him. Not even after I take my last breath in this life. “But we’ve got to let him figure this out. And until he does, we’re his friends.”

I’m going to just let myself love him—even if that means giving him space and time I don’t have—and let him figure out his half of the equation. I don’t care if the others don’t agree.

I take off walking, catching both Vos and Horus on the hop again. Twice is a lot for Vos to be surprised in a row.

Cain is slower to follow, and that only adds its own layer of turmoil that I can’t deal with right now. We get to Reven’s tent, and I draw back the flap, stepping inside. “Reven, we need to—”

The words cut off abruptly at the sight of an empty tent. “Shit.”

“He’s gone!” a Shadow crows, the sound tiny from deep inside me.

“What?” Cain sticks his head inside and his immediate scowl is so harsh he reminds me of the gargoyles that are carved into high spots on our palace rooftops. “I knew it. I’ll get guards—”

I grab his arm. “Don’t. He’s not a prisoner.”

“He shouldn’t be loose—”

I give him an exasperated little shake even as I’m trying not to panic. “Just…make sure he’s okay.”

Cain’s lips flatten so much they disappear, but he nods and ducks back out to go search.

Which is when Reven appears in front of me in a swirl of smokey shadow. “I’m here.”

Horus immediately puts himself bodily between us. Vos steps in front of him, right in Reven’s face. I don’t miss the assessing look in Reven’s narrowed eyes.

They definitely aren’t understanding the “he’s still our friend” concept. It probably wouldn’t help the whole lack-of-trust situation if I threw something at…well, all of them. At least Cain is still outside.

I maneuver around Horus. Vos is more stubborn, but after aiming a chilling look full of don’t-mess-with-us at Reven, he shifts out of the way.

“Where were you?” I ask Reven, trying to project calmness that’s far from the pounding of blood and worry in my veins. Only, I can’t help but tack on, “You gave me your word.”

“He’s not your Reven,” the Shadows whisper, barely audible. “His word means nothing.”

His shoulders pull back, suddenly military smart in stance. “I wanted to see if you’d let me go.”

I think about that. “And?”

“You’re a woman of your word.”

I narrow my eyes. “You were listening?”

He shrugs.

I should be treating him gently, wooing him, something. But irritation is what strikes first. I don’t have time for games. “Well, at least we know one of us keeps our word.”

The filter of self-satisfaction on his features disappears. “I didn’t go, and I didn’t hurt anyone.”

There is no point to this argument. “We’re gathering our allies to attack the capital city of Oaesys and reclaim our dominion.”

He scowls, inflexible and immediate.

“Way to ease into it,” Vos grumbles.

It’s not like I can take it back now. “I would like you to be part of it.”

“Why? For my power?”

I cross my arms, lifting a single eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at the moment I can do a lot more with shadows than you can.”

He grunts. Reven for irritated, the sound so familiar it makes me want to smile.

I soften. Slightly. “It’s your choice. If you wish to be part of this, or even just observe, follow us.”

Hoping like hells he joins us, without another word, I’m out into the sun, only to pull up short.

Tabra is waiting outside the tent with Cain. She’s dressed beautifully in a simple garment fashioned after the Wanderers’ clothing but made of something soft and silky and pale pink, her long dark hair swept up in an intricate braid, looking like a true queen should look.

I sigh. “I told you not yet.”

“There are two of her?” Reven mutters behind me.

I glance over my shoulder. “One of me is already a lot. I know.”

His glower is unimpressed and unamused. “Are you a shape shifter? Or just a liar?”

Heavens help us both at this rate.

“I—”

“She is neither of those things,” Tabra says. “We are twin sisters.”

He gives a jerking shake of his head. “There are no twins among the queens of Aryd.”

My eyes just sort of roll themselves. “Eidolon keeps a lot of secrets from his Shadows. Get ready to find out just how much.”

At the sound of the king’s name, the Shadows flicker. Not as bad as they have been. I’m getting better at containing them, I think.

His jaw goes glass hard, a muscle ticking at the corner of his mouth. “Sarcasm is the strategy of…weaker minds.”

I snort a laugh. “Says the man using sarcasm to knock me down a peg.” I search his eyes for any hint that this back and forth between us feels familiar. It does to me. I sigh. “I missed you, even when you’re like this.”

Confusion flashes through his eyes. Confusion and…goddess help me, was that a hint of curiosity?

Cain’s father and his closest advisors as well as the zariph hosting us here in the red desert are waiting. With a wave, I let Tabra lead the way and follow closely behind.

The looks the Wanderers give us as we pass by are all directed behind me. To say that everyone watches Reven like he’s a wild thing that might attack at any second wouldn’t be doing justice to wild things. Even the Vanished among our numbers eye him.

Eventually, Reven makes his way up to walk at my side, leaving the others to trail behind. He stalks along, hands clasped behind his back like he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t accidentally touch me, eyes straight ahead. He moves with the prowling gait of a predator, and my mind conjures up a swirl of shadow dusting up in his wake.

I’m used to being watched myself these days, anywhere I go—with distrust, with curiosity, with criticism, with an eye to aligning with power. Particularly from Ledenon, Cainis’s second-in-command. He used to watch Reven the way he watches me now. But even I’m getting twitchy under their gazes. The Wanderers were always wary of Reven, but now it feels worse than before Eidolon took him.

Or maybe it’s me.

Or the combination of us.

Reven acknowledges none of it. Meanwhile I have to restrain myself from snapping at every single one of them as we go.

We make our way out of the camp and around two bends in the river, then down a small side canyon to the place I was told would be best for creating a portal. With every step I scour my mind for something, anything, to say to my bondmate who has no clue who I am.

I mean, what can I say?

Time. Just give him time.

I don’t have time. I have two measly weeks, minus the two days already passed.

“Where did you go?” It’s the first lame thing I can come up with.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Just now,” I clarify.

“As far as I could.”

His voice sounds odd. Off. “How far was that?”

“Not as far as I would have liked.”

Now I remember why I was constantly frustrated with him in Wildernyss. Cryptic is his style when he’s not on your side. “What does that mean?”

“It means I should have just kept going on foot.” He shakes his head, more at himself.

A Shadow crawls higher. “He wants to leave you.”

I try to breathe around the pain of absorbing that hit.

I mean, I knew logically that’s where he was. What’s the point of a bond if it does nothing to help him now? Help us both?

Our bond has failed me twice now. In my previous life, because one of us died and the other didn’t. Because the bondmates clearly had some sort of falling out or they’d be together. Because Eidolon’s soul should have recognized mine in this life, and yet the king is cruel. But is it failing me in this second life, too? With Reven?

Part of me wants to fight. Not let us fail again. But I can’t deny there’s also a small part of me that’s terrified that our bond might keep breaking because it was never meant to be.

I try to listen to the first part and shake off the weight of those thoughts.

He couldn’t shadow far. Please let it be because of the bond. Because of me. That deep down, he doesn’t want to leave me.

He’s not going to want to hear that, though.

I clear my throat. “It takes a while when your powers first manifest to learn the skills.” I could barely move a single grain of sand when I first got mine. I’m not sure how it works for Reven, though. “It will come back to you.”

“Not fast enough.”

“Why’d you return? Why not keep going?”

“Because.” He shakes his head again, lips pressing closed, and I know he’s not going to answer anything he doesn’t want to.

“Last time, you told me—”

“I don’t want to hear about last time,” Reven snaps.

Cain glares around me at Reven. “Watch it.”

I wave Cain off. “This isn’t about the past, it’s about right now. The faster you relearn your powers, the better.”

“That’s my problem.”

I swallow down a frustrated sigh.

“You could just give me what I want and just let me go, princess.”

The Shadows chuckle in my head, delighted that he’s being this way. But it’s his use of the nickname “princess” that has my shoulder blades grinding together in the center as a gasp drops from my lips.

“What?” he gibes softly. “Did I find a sore spot?”

Would he still learn to love me after I bury him to his knees in sand? I clear my throat. “You called me princess.”

There. Rational, reasonable, the truth…maybe I’ve grown.

“So?” His slashing brows draw together slightly. “Aren’t you a princess?”

“Actually…” Tabra, that most wonderful of sisters, says from ahead of us. “We are not sure exactly which of us is queen, and which of us is princess at this point.” She offers him a smile that is pure Tabra—open, pleasant, and naively assuming the best in all people, actions, and outcomes.

Until her expression shifts subtly into something new. Fortitude. “But we really don’t care about technicalities like that. As long as we put an end to Eidolon and reclaim our throne. Our people are what’s most important.”

“We agree on that at least,” Reven says. His voice is gentler with her than with me, and a stab of jealousy earns me another chuckle from the Shadows.

My sister shoots me a smile, then turns away to talk to Tziah.

I lean toward Reven. “I reacted like that because you used to call me princess,” I murmur in a soft aside. “First to bother me, like now. Later as a kind of tease, a joke just between us.”

Our gazes connect and hold, and I search the depths of his eyes for any hint of what he’s feeling. “I’m sorry. That you’re going through this.”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t scowl, either.

“I don’t think anyone has said that to you, but you should know we’re all worried.”

He huffs a bitter laugh. “That I’m a danger.”

I shake my head. “We’re not naive. Of course we know you have that potential. But we also trust who we know you are, and you gave us your word. Mostly, we’re just hurting for our friend.”

“Friend.” He sounds the word out as if testing it on his tongue.

“Yes, friend. Maybe it would help to have time with each of us where you just get to know us again.”

No reaction.

“After the evening meal, I could come to your tent—”

“No.”

“Just to talk, I mean.”

He slashes a hand through the air. “Let me figure it out on my own.”

You love him. You love him. He sacrificed everything for you. You bloody well love him, so you can’t maim him. I take a deep, fortifying—in theory, at least—breath.

Vos, behind us, clears his throat. “Maybe give us a chance, old friend.”

“You’re Eidolon’s general. We aren’t friends.”

Reven is so sure. How can he be so sure when he knows we’re part of his past?

Vos sighs. “Keep this up and you’ll be right.”

“It’s fine,” I say to all of them. “Think about how disoriented and wary you would be if you lost all your memories.”

Cain stuffs his hands in his pockets. “He needs to not be an asshole, at least.”

I glance from him to Reven, who, if possible, looks even more intimidating now, like he’s contemplating shadowing Cain somewhere unpleasant.

“Maybe you can try for respectful asshole,” I suggest.

Now I’m calling him an asshole. Way to woo, Meren. What did I ever do to make him love me the first time?

Reven flicks me a glance that is a thousand different things, none of which are amused or loving, then grunts.

I’m not sure if that’s a yes or a no.

Bene chooses that moment to fly down, having apparently shifted again into his smaller raven form, and lands on my shoulder. Not quite a raven, I guess, since he didn’t use sand from the obsidian desert like he does when he wants to hide what he is.

Immediately Reven jerks back, the purple glow of his hands unmistakable in the candlelight. No one else bothers to try to stop him, though. Because it’s Bene.

“Your timing could have been better,” I say to him.

He plucks at Savanah’s amulet chain around my neck. “He might as well learn all the hardest to swallow things now.”

I glance at Reven, who is no longer glowing and is now leaning forward, confusion written all over his face. “What is that?”

Even the Wanderers around us, still resentful of the way they met Bene the night he trampled the camp and scared everyone half to the hells trying to find the amulet I was wearing, grin.

“That”—Cain leans around me to tell Reven with visible glee—“is the Devourer known as the Elimination.”