He catches my right hand in his own and pulls me toward him, turning me so that my back presses tight against his chest. I had forgotten the feeling of his body against mine, though I had tried to keep the memories alive. They all come flooding back now—memories of his arms wrapped around me as we stretched out on the ground. The cool touch of his hands on the warm skin of my back.
His nose traces a line down my neck, and his breath stirs my hair. “My betrothed,” he whispers, just before he presses his lips into the space beneath my ear. Heat runs across my scalp and down the length of my body, melting everything in its path. Every tense memory, every nagging fear melts away.
I sigh and turn to face him.
Kol’s lips touch my cheekbone, skim across the bridge of my nose, and come to rest lightly on the corner of my brow. Tipping my head back, I take him in.
As I study his face, I can’t deny that there are many different Kols. The one who raised his spear to me. The one who couldn’t accept that Lo would plot to attack the Olen. And the one who came to my camp in the midst of a deadly storm. The one who risked his life to warn us, and then helped us defend the camp.
And then there is the Kol who looks back at me now from behind warm, dark eyes. There is something about this Kol that I’ve never seen before. There is a quiet strength in this Kol—a calm assurance. This Kol trusts himself. He makes me want him to trust me, too.
I scan his face for more clues to the person he really is, when he draws closer to me and my eyes fall shut. His mouth covers mine, and if Kol’s face holds unfamiliar mysteries, his kiss does not. It takes me and carries me, up to the cliff above the crashing sea, where we sat together in the rain outside the cave. The very first time his lips sought mine. Only this time, I won’t pull away.
His arms enclose me as I draw him closer. He is everywhere, and yet I can’t pull him close enough. At the edge of my mind, something scratches, the sound of something trying to break through, but I turn away from the intrusion. What could matter when Kol’s lips are fluttering against the curve of my cheek, tracing my brow, pressing lightly on my eye? Behind my lids all the colors of the sunset burn.
The sound comes again—a scratchy digging in dirt—and I am forced to pull back. My eyes open to reveal my brother, Chev, just over Kol’s shoulder. He clears his throat. “I don’t mean to . . . I wanted to ask Mya about Lees.”
Kol pulls away reluctantly. His eyes remain closed even as he tips his head toward the sound of Chev’s voice. An impatient sigh escapes his throat as his lids finally flick open and his lips press into a thin line.
This is yet another version of Kol. Someone who loses patience with my brother. Someone who might let Chev interrupt a kiss, but will make sure he knows he isn’t pleased.
Could this be the new Kol, the Kol who will soon be High Elder?
“What about Lees?” I ask. I realize that down the path, the meeting of elders is still going on. I hear Kol’s mother’s voice.
Chev steps forward, silently asserting his authority. “I saw you follow her. Is she okay? She should not have been listening—”
“You knew she was there—”
“I suspected—”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t find her.”
Chev looks from me to Kol, and back to me again. “I should have guessed. I had expected to find you consoling her. . . .” His gaze floats back to Kol, sweeping from his head to his feet. “I didn’t expect to find you here . . . like this. . . .”
Heat spreads up my neck. My ears and scalp burn.
“Don’t lecture me,” I say in a hoarse whisper. “Don’t deflect from what you’ve done. You didn’t even warn her, let alone give her a choice! But you gave Morsk plenty of choices. He was offered a betrothal to me, then Seeri, now Lees. You’ve honored Morsk’s wishes, but you won’t honor your own sister’s—”
“Because one of my sisters must marry a member of the Olen.” I can almost see Chev’s anger flow into his hands, balled into tight fists at his sides. “No one else can be trusted to be the father of the next High Elder—”
“If you’re so concerned about the next High Elder, why don’t you make the sacrifice? Why don’t you give up Yano, marry an Olen woman, and father the next High Elder yourself?”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I love Yano and know that Chev could never be with anyone else. Beside me, I feel Kol stiffen. He knows that I have said the most hurtful thing I could say, just for that purpose—to hurt. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I never . . . I don’t mean that. I never should have said it. Yano—”
“I know you didn’t mean it. I know you love Yano.”
“I do,” I say, and my brother blurs around the edges as my eyes sting with tears. “But you see the hidden truth there? We all agree you should have a choice. Morsk should have a choice. So why can’t you see that Lees should have one too?”
Chev shakes his head. “It’s not that easy.” He drops a hand on Kol’s shoulder. “You’ll understand soon. The burden of making decisions for a whole clan is a heavy one.” With that he turns and walks back to the meeting, uninterested in hearing any more of my arguments.
We wait, listening to the sound of gravel crunching beneath his boots, until it fades when he reaches the sand. He addresses the crowd again. Words like Bosha and future and alliance rise and break apart on the wind.
“Should we go look for Lees together?” Kol asks. “She is surely with Roon—”
I am ready to say I’ll look alone. That Kol needs to go back, to return to his mother’s side. I look out at the ridge where I’d seen Kol and his brothers walking this morning—the ridge where they were digging a grave.
But I don’t see a bare ridge of rock and ice. Someone is there. Two figures, each burdened by a large pack, carrying a kayak between them. “What? They can’t. . . .”
Kol turns and looks in the direction of my gaze. Any hope I have that it is just a trick of the light abandons me when Kol speaks his brother’s name under his breath. “Roon.” Thoughts shift behind his eyes as he runs through the same possibilities I do, reaching the same conclusions.
“They must’ve stolen down to the water the long way . . . pulled a boat from the bay out of everyone’s sight. . . .”
“And looped back around to the ridge. No one will see them put the boat in the water. . . .”
Even as I speak, the two figures drop down on the far side of the ridge, the boat no longer visible. Just their heads and shoulders stand out like silhouettes against the bright surface of the sea beyond them.
Voices grow in volume. People are on their feet on the beach. The meeting is coming to an end. Soon everyone will be preparing for the burial.
“Come with me,” I say, grabbing Kol’s hand. “We need to stop them.”
And then we are running, heading for the spot where Lees and Roon just set a boat into the sea.
EIGHT