Jouni’s mouth draws tight, but he guides me to sit down and then obeys. Sig squats in front of me. The moonlight glints off the blade of a knife that he’s twirling between his fingers. “Now tell me everything you held back,” he says quietly. “You say I killed that girl—but you know you had something to do with it.”
I draw my knees to my chest and bow my head over them. “I had nothing to do with it.” What a lie. But I can’t face the truth, that I was the sword that cut Mim down. It’s so cruel. She’s the last person I’d ever want to hurt. Elder Leevi and his priests were different. They were trying to kill Oskar. And when Oskar struck, I felt fear, but not this terrible, piercing guilt. Now, though . . . Am I really cursed like this? To be a mindless tool in the hands of powerful wielders?
I think I’d rather die.
Sig nudges my chin up. “I felt it, Elli. You grabbed my hand right as I was reaching for the fire. And what I did . . .” He lets out a trembling chuckle. “I’ve never felt anything like that. With that kind of power, we could take the temple. We could rule it.”
I shake my head. “I won’t help you.”
His long fingers close around my throat, and he pulls me toward him. His bottomless brown eyes meet mine. “I can feel it as soon as my skin touches yours,” he whispers, his lips sliding along my cheek until his mouth is against my ear. “If I wanted to, I could set this entire forest aflame.”
“I hate you,” I say in a ragged voice. “And I’ll die before I let you control me.”
His eyes take on a golden, flickering glow. “You can’t stop me,” he says softly, his thumb stroking down the column of my throat. “Even now, with all that contempt, I could use you to rain fire on the outlands.”
My eyes sting. “You won’t let others control you, but you’re willing to do it to me.”
He grimaces, his glowing pupils shining with emotion. “Think of your handmaiden. If the temple dwellers hurt her and used her as you say, then don’t you think they all deserve to die?”
Perhaps. But the memory of the acolytes’ kindness in my worst moments can’t be forgotten. The face of the Saadella won’t leave my mind. The screams of the people won’t fall silent. And knowing the Soturi now realize we’re helpless makes the stakes impossibly high. I can’t seek revenge without thinking about all of that. Would Sig listen if I told him? Would he care?
I look into his eyes, and all I see is fire. He wants blood and vengeance. He wants to take the temple for himself, not the people.
And I have to get away from him. “I’ll think about it,” I murmur. “Now let me go.”
His warm hand falls away, and the cold air rushes in and caresses my throat. “We could be allies. We could do it together.”
“I need to rest.”
Sig’s jaw flexes. “So do I. But tomorrow we’re gathering more wielders, and we’re going back. There will never be another chance like this one.”
I curl onto my side, pulling the hood of my cloak to protect my cheek from the rotting leaves that will be my bed tonight. All I can think is how different Sig and Oskar are. Both so powerful, but one is ruled by hurt and hatred, while the other is ruled by a thirst for peace. For life. I squeeze my eyes shut and huddle within the furry folds of my stolen cloak as Sig and the others make camp, building a small fire and passing around the supplies they snatched from the hunters. They talk about what Sig did and speculate about whether touching me would work for all of them. Jouni wants to try, but Sig tells him he’ll have to wait until tomorrow. When Jouni comes over to offer me a biscuit and a slice of meat, I pretend that I’m asleep until he goes away.
You could be their most powerful asset—or their worst enemy. That’s what Raimo told me. But how can I be a feared enemy when I have no power of my own? When I don’t have a say in how I’m used? Frustration grinds within me, becoming an endless ache of despair. Over and over I remember the horror in Mim’s eyes as the fire descended. I swear, a moment before it hit, there was a spark of relief in her face, but it doesn’t lessen the guilt at all. She defied the elders and helped me escape. Now I know why she never came to meet me that morning. I imagine her, chained in the catacombs, the lash of the whip against her soft skin. For weeks I’ve been nestled safe in a cave, growing stronger by the day, free to lose my foolish heart to someone else—because of her. And all this time, she’s been suffering—because of me. My fists are so tight that I’m shaking. If I had known, if I could have taken her place, I would have.
And if I can be used to kill someone I love, I don’t think I should exist.