Page 28

Numb Would Be Nice

Silence settles over the gathered allies, and I know every eye is on me.

Damn it. I’m second-guessing myself already. How could I not? Omma used to tell me every leader questioned their decisions, but the good ones decided and then stuck with it. At the time, I doubted that, because Grandmother so obviously never did, but Omma also told me that a leader should never let their people see that doubt. Visible doubt spells death for people in charge.

Way harder in action than in theory.

My chest is tightening. I need to get out of here.

Reven’s expression is still blank. No emotion. Not even confusion. Horus means nothing to him…the same way I mean nothing now.

Even so, I want to chuck a knife at his head just to make him feel something . Or maybe it’s me I want to chuck the knife at.

“The plan for taking Oaesys is a good one,” I say. “I’m doing it.”

Reven crosses his arms. “Then I will be the one to go with you, now that Horus is unavailable.”

“No—”

Vos cuts himself off at the glance Reven cuts his way.

Reven is not asking. He’s telling.

“If anyone can help her should the things inside her decide to come out, it’s me,” he says.

He has a point. I would probably have said the same thing if I were in his shoes right now, and he’s stopped actively trying to kill me. It’s the best we’ve got. “Fine. Just so long as you don’t get in my way.”

That signals the end of our talks. The plan is in place.

I manage to keep from losing it through every whisper in my direction, every searching look from allies, friends, and the zariphs as I send our guests home through their various portals. And then the canyon clears out as those staying here return to the camp and their tents to sleep, and I lag behind deliberately. My friends, what happened with Horus visibly weighing on them all in different ways, pair off ahead of me probably without even realizing that they are. Meanwhile, the thought of going to my bed alone, dealing with the choice I made alone, trying to sleep alone—actually not alone, with the things crammed into me—all when Reven should be with me…

I’ll never sleep.

“Mer?” Cain has stopped at the turn to go down a narrower part of the canyon.

I remain where I am. Worry lines my friend’s face, which just makes this worse for me. I glance away only to collide with turquoise eyes, but I don’t think I see concern beyond curiosity from my bondmate.

Suddenly, I just can’t anymore. I need to get away from this place.

“Bene?” I call to the top of the cliffs high above.

“I’m coming,” he answers.

“Meren,” Vos says. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m already alone,” I say. “And Bene will protect me.”

A shadow looms overhead, dimming the moonlight in the canyon. With a beat of wings that scatters the rocks and sand around, Bene drops down, but he doesn’t land. And he doesn’t ask questions, just offers me a talon.

A small part of me expects, or maybe even hopes, that Reven will protest. After all, Bene is the Elimination—a Devourer—and is taking away the woman who holds Eidolon’s Shadows.

But his expression remains blank as I step into Bene’s talon, which curls around me, and then we fly away, wind tugging at my clothes.

Once we’re out of view of the others, I drop my forehead against the sandy column of Bene’s foot, rough against my skin, and close my eyes and try not to think about Horus, or Reven, or what happens tomorrow.

I try to burrow into the numbness I held onto before and let it all go. So much easier than feeling it. But Scoria said I need to feel it, and I can’t seem to find the numb anyway.

“I need to be alone,” I say.

Bene doesn’t ask questions or give me reasons why that’s a bad idea. “I know a place.”

It’s not long before he drops back down into a different side canyon, and the sound of running water tells me exactly where he’s brought me.

The perfect spot to try to forget everything, just for a second.

Even at night with only the light of the three moons, the Usavah Waterfalls that spill over deep-orange and red travertine cliffs are a brilliant aqua-blue. I step out of Bene’s talon and onto the ground, then look around. The stark contrast between the red, rocky arid desert landscape and the lush vegetation near the water is almost too much to believe it’s real.

Here the rush and burble of the water as it cascades over the cliff to the pool below might be the most soothing sound in all of Nova, as if it’s flowing through my limbs, loosening the tension there.

Horus’s sister was right about clear water and clear thoughts.

Bile surges up my throat along with a slide of the darkness within.

Don’t think about Horus.

I cut off the memory and focus instead on the oasis. The water near where I am is bluer under the moonlight. Blue is such a calm color.

I make my way to the side of the pond where a slight widening of the canyon allows the water to pool, though not too deeply. Without hesitation I strip, dropping all my fancy-ish clothing to the ground in an untidy heap. Then I tuck my knives into the rocks nearest the edge of the water before I gingerly walk in, careful of my bare feet where it’s slippery. The water at the tops of my thighs is cold, losing the heat of the day to the chill of desert nights. Cold is good. Cold is numbing.

I dive in, and the instant icy water is a shock that has me coming up, gasping for air. But it wears off quickly while I tread water, and gradually the chill turns into something more manageable, something luscious and lovely.

And quiet. Even the Shadows are giving me peace.

Tomorrow—

No. I’ll deal with tomorrow when it gets here.

I undo my hair and dunk again. After having it up and braided all day, the release of tension in my scalp is heaven, and I groan a little. Seriously, no more ceremonial updos, just simple braids from now on. How Tabra, whose hairstyles have always been more elaborate than mine, doesn’t end every day with a headache the size of the dominion, I don’t know.

I duck under the water, swimming down to the bottom to trail my fingers across the rocks and sand there before resurfacing to brush my wet hair out of my face with one hand.

“How did you learn to swim?” The familiar deep voice reaches out through the night.

Reven.