Something was rising in me, something darker than anger. I could have hit him. My desire to get off the mountain as quickly as possible was all but forgotten.
“You should have left me where I was safe?” I said. “As if I’m some frightened child? Where would you be if you had left me back at base camp? Dead, that’s where. Have you forgotten how I saved your life? Your recklessness would have—”
“My recklessness?” Suddenly, River seemed as furious as I was. “You’re the one who decided to go for a late-night stroll, right into an army of ghosts! Why on earth did you leave the cave and the protection of the warding spells?”
“I was looking for you!” I snapped. “Why did you leave the cave?”
“To chase the ghosts away, of course. How do you think I felt when I returned and found you gone? When I realized they had taken you, that you could already be dead?”
I stared. “I don’t know.”
River glowered at me. “You’re an idiot, Kamzin.”
We glared at each other, and I felt as if I would hit him. That infuriatingly handsome face wouldn’t be so perfect with a black eye or a missing tooth. My entire body seemed to pulse, as if the warmth he had pressed into my skin had turned to fire and was consuming me. Then, suddenly, he pulled me into his arms, pressing his hand against the back of my head so that my face was buried in his shoulder.
I folded myself into his embrace, as if I were not holding him but melting against his body. As wondrous as it felt, it was also strange, because he was River Shara, and the Royal Explorer, and the most powerful shaman I had ever met, and I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. And yet he was also just River, who had become my friend and who I now trusted with my life. He ran his fingers through my hair, brushing it off my face. He was gripping me so tightly that I could barely breathe. I didn’t mind. I lifted my face to his and kissed him.
River’s magic still brushed my skin, but the warmth that overwhelmed me didn’t come from that. This kiss was different than the half-drunken kiss we had shared on the cliff. That kiss had set my heart pounding, but this one was as heady as a barrel of raksi. Kissing River reminded me of dark forests and night skies. It was nothing like kissing Tem, or any of the village boys I had kissed because someone dared me. As different as night from day.
It lasted only a moment, and then River drew back. His hand was still pressed against my face, his thumb and forefinger framing my eye.
“What?” I murmured.
River stepped away, a familiar veil dropping over his expression. “We need to get you back to camp. Make sure that water didn’t give you frostbite—it can set in without you noticing.”
I stared at him. He turned to walk away, but I grabbed his arm. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Pretending you don’t care about me. That I’m just some assistant you hired to carry your bags or cook your dinner.”
“I do care about you, Kamzin,” he said, a knife edge in his voice. “That isn’t why we can’t do this.”
“Why, then?” Anger rose within me again, and I had to grip the sleeves of my chuba to keep from lashing out. I had almost died. And somehow that had broken something, some reluctance or fear that had prevented me from voicing what I felt. I was frightened, and exhausted, and furious. I would make him talk to me. I would make him admit what I knew to be true—that he felt the same about me as I did about him.
“Is it because you’re of noble blood, and I’m not?” I demanded. “Because after this is over, I’ll go back to my village, and you’ll go back to some palace in the Three Cities?”
“No. If you were someone else, any other girl, I wouldn’t think twice.”
I made an exasperated sound. “So the reason you won’t kiss me is because you care about me?”
River let out a sigh of relief. “Yes! That’s it exactly. I’m glad you understand.”
“I understand that you’re a lunatic,” I growled. “But I already knew that.”
My hand was still on his arm, and his face was only a foot from mine. The veil had slipped, and his expression was an odd combination of confusion, anger, and longing. So I pulled him closer and kissed him again.
He hesitated at first, but then suddenly he was kissing me back, with a forcefulness that took me by surprise. I was lifted off my feet and propelled backward until I was pressed against the rock face. I wrapped my arms around him, tightening my hold, heedless of the uneven rocks pressing into my back. River ran his hand over me until I found myself cursing the layers of clothing that separated us. It was as if the feeling that had been building between us all this time had exploded, and we were both giddy with it. I wanted him to kiss me until the snow melted, until Raksha was worn to nothing by the ice and the winds.
“Would you like me to give you two a moment?” said a voice.
River pulled away sharply, and I slid down the rock, landing with a soft oof in the snow. Standing behind us, framed against the distant peaks and valleys, was Mara.
TWENTY-THREE
THE CHRONICLER’S FACE was creased with fatigue and shadowed with an unkempt beard. His chuba was torn and stained with mud at the hem. He seemed thinner, or perhaps it was only weariness that bent his shoulders and made him a less imposing figure than I remembered. His gaze, though, was clear, and he seemed unhurt.
“Mara!” For a moment, I could get no other words out, I was so astonished. Was he a ghost himself, to have appeared like this in our midst? Then I was on my feet and racing to his side. I grabbed his arm—he was flesh and blood.
“Where is Lusha?” I demanded. “Is she with you? Is she all right? How did you get here? When did you get here? How did you find us?”
He shook off my hand. “Your sister is fine. We noticed your tracks last night, and followed them to your camp in the cave. I volunteered to set out at first light to search for you.”
“But how?” I stared at him, happier to see his haughty profile than I ever could have imagined. “I thought you must have turned back. I thought you could be—could be—”
Could be dead, I wanted to say, but couldn’t. Mara took no notice of my hesitation—he had barely glanced at me. His gaze was fixed on River.
“Mara,” River said, in a quiet voice that nonetheless carried over the wind. “You’ve exceeded my expectations. I doubted you would make it this far.”
“Hello, River.” Mara’s disdainful expression slipped slightly. He raised his chin, as if to compensate. “I’m glad I’m able to surprise you once in a while.”
“You know I don’t like surprises,” River said. His expression was calm, but a darkness lurked beneath it.
“I can see you’re angry—” Mara began.
“Why would I be angry?” River said. “You only stole my supplies, my assistant. You’ve attempted to steal my title.”
I felt a twinge of surprise, and a hurt sort of irritation. Was River still upset about Lusha choosing Mara over him?