“Another time.”
“You have said that before, and this time I will not accept it.” Ilathor shook his head, and then the anger went out of him, and he sighed. “Did you not receive my message? I have a proposition for you, if that is the correct word. I am kalif now, and I have brought my people to greatness. Agira Lahsa is becoming a city to rival any of the other houses. I can give you the life you deserve.”
Ella covered her mouth. “Ilathor . . .”
“Ever since I met you, I have not been able to stop thinking about you. Even amid the madness of the war, you were at the forefront of my mind. I have seen you grow, and I am awed by everything you are and everything you do.” Ella had never seen him like this; Ilathor was a stern man, and this confession must be costing him greatly.
“Since my father died,” he continued, “I have been alone against the world. I need you. I can sense you find it hard to love, but love is a risk. The night we shared in Petrya . . . I have never experienced anything like it . . .”
Ella looked past Ilathor’s shoulder and felt every vestige of blood drain from her face. A man in regal clothing stood behind the kalif of the desert tribes: Killian.
Ella had never seen the expression Killian now wore. The thief from Salvation had a thousand faces. Now she was seeing him raw.
“Is that true?” Killian asked. His eyes narrowed.
Anguish hit her with force, like a stone dropped into her stomach, plummeting through her chest, tearing at her insides.
Ilathor whirled as he heard Killian’s voice. Ella couldn’t register Ilathor’s reaction; her eyes were on Killian’s face.
“I will leave you two to talk,” Ilathor said stiffly. He left without another word.
Ella opened her mouth and then closed it.
“Is it true?” Killian demanded. His face was close to hers. His expression was frightening.
“Why would you care?” Ella said. “You couldn’t even make time to see me.”
“My meeting ran over! It’s true, isn’t it?”
“How could you vote against my brother?”
“You’re avoiding the issue.”
“This is more important than us!”
Killian scowled. “What do you want from me? You want me to dedicate everything we have to Altura’s defense? There’s no guarantee they’ll make landing there. It’s the Sentinel he wants. I can’t look after you. I have to worry about the needs of all the houses. That’s what an emperor does. I can’t be seen to favor one house over another.” He shook his head, and his red locks tossed from side to side. “How could you? And now you’re asking more of me?”
“You don’t understand,” Ella cried.
“You’re right,” Killian said. “I don’t.”
Miro found Ella sitting with Shani on the stairs in a secluded part of the gallery, their heads close together.
“Ella,” he said softly.
Ella glanced up, and Miro saw that her eyes were red. “What is it?” she asked.
“Kalif Ilathor . . . he’s spoken to me.”
Ella raised her voice. “About what?”
Miro shrugged. “He wants my permission to ask for your hand.”
Ella drew in a sharp breath. “And what did you say?”
Miro smiled. “What do you think I said? It’s your decision to make.”
“She doesn’t love him,” Shani said.
Miro nodded. “Ella, I have to ask something of you, though, and if that’s the case, you aren’t going to like it.”
“What is it?” Shani demanded.
“Ilathor’s sailing home to Agira Lahsa tomorrow. We have yet to connect Agira Lahsa through the desert to Wondhip Pass so they can be part of our signaling system.” Miro turned his gaze on Shani. “I need Ella to go with Ilathor and see it done.”
“Send someone else,” Shani said flatly.
“I can’t,” Miro said. “Ella,” he implored, “we are in desperate need of allies, and Ilathor is a proud man. Now isn’t the time to refuse him. There’s next to no chance Sentar will make landing in the desert, and we need the Hazarans to agree to come to our aid in Altura. I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I need you to ensure Ilathor’s help. You have to go with him. You won’t have to stay long—just long enough to build the station in Agira Lahsa and continue the chain north to Wondhip Pass. You’ll also need to connect Tlaxor, Petrya’s capital. Please, will you do it—for me?”
Shani frowned, but Ella nodded. “I understand. Of course I’ll go.”
“Thank you,” Miro said.
“I don’t want to spend any more time in Seranthia anyway.”
4