Asha curled into him. With the lower half of her face pressed into his shoulder, she watched her home shrink into the distance before turning her eyes to the sky.
The stars shone like crystals above them and the moon had bled out. It was waxing instead of waning now.
It would be pale and slivered and new.
Thirty-Three
Asha woke with her cheek against a bony shoulder. Torwin unlatched her hands from their grip on his arm and Shadow fidgeted beneath her, waiting patiently for his riders to dismount.
They’d landed on some kind of precipice. The Rift surrounded them, snakelike and silhouetted beneath the stars. Somewhere in the distance stood the city, but they were so high and far, Asha couldn’t even make out the wall. Below them sprawled thick, scrubby forest.
Torwin dismounted first, sliding effortlessly down Shadow’s side. Asha swung her leg over so she could follow and found Torwin already turned to catch her, his hands taking hold of her waist as he guided her down to the earth.
When her slippered feet touched the stony ground, she looked up to find his worried gaze tracing her scar. Remembering the sight of herself in the mirror, she turned her face, keeping the scar out of his sight.
“I’m fine.”
Torwin’s hands slid up her cheeks. Gently, he turned her to face him.
“Are you?”
The breath rushed out of Asha. She nodded.
With his hands still cradling her face, his gaze continued to search her.
Asha grabbed hold of his wrists, stopping his searching gaze. “No one hurt me,” she said, willing him to hear what she wasn’t saying: Jarek didn’t hurt me. “I promise.”
He lingered over her, trying to decipher if this was the truth or her attempt to protect him. Finally, he nodded.
Shadow whuffed. Torwin and Asha both looked up, over her shoulder, at the hulking dark form. Torwin’s hands fell away from her face. Whistling to the dragon, he reached out a palm and Shadow nuzzled it before turning and launching himself into the sky.
Torwin motioned Asha toward the thick woods. “This way.”
She stood for a moment, watching him. He seemed different here, so far from the city. Dressed in his strange jacket and gloves, with a bow slung over his shoulder and a knife tucked in his boot.
He seemed free.
The trees clustered so closely together, their boughs blocked out the starlight. The wind rustled the crisp leaves of eucalyptus trees. This part of the Rift was unfamiliar to Asha, and she had difficulty keeping up. She stumbled through the darkness, her dress catching on branches, her feet snagging in root systems. Pine needles crunched beneath her footsteps, echoing loudly in her ears.
“Some hunter you are.” Torwin smiled in the darkness. His fingers brushed against Asha’s, making warmth bloom through her. “You’ll alert the entire camp to our arrival.”
“Camp?” she whispered, distracted by the back-and-forth movement of his knuckles across hers, soft and hesitant. “What camp?”
“It’s not much farther now,” he said.
But Asha didn’t want to leave this wood. She wanted to stay right here, alone in the darkness with him.
Torwin seemed to want that too, because his footsteps slowed. He laced his warm fingers through hers. “Asha?”
“Hmm?”
“There’s . . . something I need to tell you.” His thumb ran nervously across her skin. “Before we go down there. In case I lose my nerve.”
Asha paused, suddenly nervous too. “All right.”
In the darkness, she heard the soft sound of him swallowing. “I’m leaving.”
The words sliced the air, cold and abrupt.
“Leaving?” Asha frowned. “What do you mean?”
Torwin took a deep breath. “Your brother gave me enough coin to buy passage aboard a ship in Darmoor. From there, I’m heading north. Across the sea.”
It shouldn’t have surprised her. This was what he’d wanted ever since he’d stolen her slayers that night in the temple and made her show him the way out of the city.
He wanted to escape. To be far, far away from everything that had ever hurt him.
Asha didn’t blame him.
Still, her footsteps halted. The thought of him, gone . . .
Torwin stopped too, turning to face her in the dark. He still smelled like dragon musk and smoke. “You could come with me. If you wanted to.”
Asha fell into silence, thinking of the last time he’d made her this offer. She’d turned him down then, and that had been a huge mistake.
“Just think of it, Asha: freedom, adventure, the salty sea air on your face. . . .” She could hear his excited smile. “I’ve never even seen the sea.”
He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers.
She tried to smile, tried to catch his excitement. But her heart suddenly felt so heavy.
“When?” she asked, even as she dreaded the answer. “When do you leave?”
Before he could respond, though, the light of a lamp flashed across their faces.
Asha didn’t think; she reacted. Her hand slid out of Torwin’s. Grabbing the knife in his boot, she pushed him behind her, positioning herself between him and the intruder.
But all she could see was a light in the trees.
“It’s all right.” The heat of Torwin rushed up her back as he closed the distance between them. “It’s only the patrol.”
“Actually,” came a voice with a honeyed accent, “it’s just me.”
“Jas?” Torwin asked.
Asha squinted through the bright orange glow of the lamp, her blade lowering. The bearer of the lamp lowered it to his side, illuminating him.
The intruder was a young man, maybe a year younger than Asha. The horn hilts of two huge knives gleamed at his hips, and a maroon sandskarf was wrapped loosely around his shoulders.
Everything about him said scrublander.
Enemy.
Asha lifted the knife again. The boy’s smile slid away.
“This is Jas,” said Torwin, stepping out from behind Asha and resting his hand on hers before peeling his knife from her fingers. “Roa’s brother. He’s a friend.”
Roa. The girl who betrayed Dax.
“What’s he doing here?” she demanded.
Jas smiled nervously, looking to Torwin for rescue.
“He’s here to help,” Torwin said, tucking the knife back into his boot on the side farthest from Asha. “Jas, meet Asha.”
At her name, Jas’s eyes went wide. He glanced at her scar. “The Iskari,” he whispered. Her reputation apparently preceded her, because Torwin didn’t say anything more. “I’ve heard . . . a great many things about you.” He lifted his fist to his heart, and then—as if addressing Asha a moment more might make her reach for the knife again—he turned to Torwin.
“You haven’t seen my sister, have you?”
Torwin shook his head. “We only just arrived.”
Jas worried his lip with his teeth. “She and Dax quarreled, and now she’s disappeared.”
Asha frowned in confusion.
Dax was here? With Roa?
Asha looked to Torwin. “What’s going on?”
“There’s . . . a lot you don’t know,” he said. “Come on. I’ll show you.” He looked to Jas. “Coming?”
The boy shook his head. “I need to find my sister.” Glancing to the Iskari, he said, “It was nice to meet you, Asha.”