Chapter Twenty
When Kiva woke the next morning, she was determined to follow through with her plan to speak to Jaren. But since he’d made an art out of avoiding her, the only times she saw him were when he was with other people.
For the entirety of her training session with Caldon, she kept one eye on where Jaren sparred with Naari in the large, clear space at the outer edge of the oasis, partly because it was impossible not to appreciate the way his body moved, how his muscles bunched and shifted with a fluidity that was downright criminal. But she also watched so she could see when he finished, wanting to catch him alone before they departed for the next leg of
their journey.
“Daydreaming much?”
Caldon’s voice pulled Kiva’s gaze back to find him smirking at her, prompting heat to touch her cheeks.
“I get it,” he said, jutting a thumb out toward his sweat-slicked cousin.
“Trust me, I do.” His own eyes darted to where Torell was sparring with Ashlyn, before they settled on Cresta, who was paired with Eidran. They lingered on the redhead, before he shook away his dazed expression and frowned at Kiva. “But do it on your own time.”
She nodded guiltily, knowing she needed to concentrate. They’d already finished her physical training — which had included running laps around the oasis, leaving her a sweating, panting mess — and now they were working on her magic. She’d secretly hoped Jaren might join them again, had even considered acting as if she was still having trouble summoning her power, but she didn’t want to manipulate his attention. That, plus she really was finding her magic to be so much easier now that she was feeding it through positive emotions and memories, and she knew they needed to continue moving her training along, which wouldn’t happen if she faked having more difficulties.
“I was thinking last night about Zuleeka’s magic,” Caldon said, “how she shot those shadows toward us in the River Room — do you remember?”
Kiva sent him a deadpan look. “No. Why would I remember that?”
Caldon snickered. “Gods, you’re so grumpy in the morning.” He then sobered and said, “Next time you face her, we need to make sure you can avoid her magic striking you at all, since there’s no way to know what command she’ll have behind it. She might just repeat that instant-paralysis she struck us with, but she could also do something more sinister, like stop your heart or create a brain bleed. Since you can’t heal yourself, you’ll be dead in seconds.”
A sick feeling twisted Kiva’s stomach. Would Zuleeka really do something like that? To her own sister? But then she thought about how Zuleeka had stabbed Torell, and how she’d murdered Nanna Delora. There really was no telling what extremes she might go to, especially if she felt threatened.
“So along with focusing on your magical strength and endurance,”
Caldon went on, “I think we also need to work on your reaction speed.”
Kiva was unsure if she liked the eager look on his face. “How?”
“I had an idea,” Caldon said, appearing very much like Tipp as he bounced excitedly on his heels. “And before you panic, hear me out.”
That didn’t fill Kiva with confidence, but she still said, “I’m listening.”
“I’m going to throw my magic at you, and you’re going to summon yours to try and meet it midair before it can touch you.”
For a moment, Kiva just looked at him.
And then she laughed.
“Wow, you really had me going for a second there,” she said, still chuckling.
Caldon crossed his arms. “I’m serious, Sunshine. You need to get used to magical attacks. If you freeze up, or if you don’t react fast enough, all it will take is one hit from Zuleeka, and you could be dead.”
“I realize that,” Kiva said, her eyes flashing, her humor gone. “But in case you forgot, I have healing magic, and you throw fire. I might be able to nullify Zuleeka’s shadows — and that’s still a big question mark — but my power won’t do anything to stop yours. You’ll roast me like a chicken.”
“Oh, you of little faith,” Caldon said, rolling his eyes. “What’s that around your neck, Sweet Cheeks? Is it possibly a crest that can protect you from magic?”
Kiva’s hands automatically moved to the amulet beneath her clothes.
She bit her lip, feeling foolish for having thought Caldon would risk
harming her, and sent him a sheepish, apologetic look.
“Come on, time’s a-wasting,” he said, waving to her hands. If anything, he seemed amused by her having doubted him, his cobalt eyes sparkling with mirth.
Quickly, Kiva dug the amulet out from her leathery armor. Caldon touched a finger to it, sending his power into the ruby gemstone of the quadrant depicting the fire element. Just like with the ring, the jewel glowed bright red before it faded back to normal.
“See? Now I can attack you anytime I want, and you’ll be fine,” he said, beaming.
A vision of being awakened in the middle of the night surrounded by flames came to Kiva, so she said, “I think we should lay down some ground rules.”
“No time for that,” he replied, striding away. “Are you ready?”
“I —”
Before Kiva could get her next word out, there was a ball of fire heading directly for her.
Suddenly, she was transported straight back to Navok’s throne room when Xuru had attacked her. Her veins filled with ice, her limbs tensed up, and she barely managed to raise her hands to protect her face in time for the blaze to strike her.
But this time, nothing happened, the amulet making the flames fizzle
out to nothing.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”
Kiva was shaking like a leaf, but at the sound of Jaren’s infuriated roar, she lowered her arms to find him racing over to them, his sword glinting in the early morning sunlight, his face drained of color. When he was only a few steps away, he slowed, his gaze shifting to the amulet, before touching on every other part of her, checking her for burns that didn’t exist. His cheeks flushed as realization hit him, and he avoided her eyes as he said to Caldon, his voice tight, “Make sure you keep replenishing the amulet. If it runs out —”
“I’d never let anything hurt her,” Caldon said, offended. Lower, he added, “Unlike some people, who are doing all the hurting.”
Jaren stiffened, and still without looking at Kiva, he turned and jogged back toward the sparring area.
“Hey — Jaren — wait!” Kiva called, shooting an angry look at Caldon before hurrying after the crown prince. She was still trembling from what had just happened, and with every step she took nearer to where Jaren had halted, she second-guessed her timing, but she also knew she had to speak to him before she lost her chance — and her courage.
Jaren continued to avoid her gaze, but he’d obeyed her call and was waiting for her to catch up, so she straightened her spine and approached, all while hearing the memory of his infuriated, panicked roar in her ears.
Hope rose to near bursting within Kiva, and she was desperate to ask about his reaction, but when she came to a stop in front of him, halfway between where Caldon stood and where the others were still sparring in the early morning light, all the words left her.
“Did you want something?” Jaren asked when she remained silent for too long, his fingers flexing around the hilt of his sword.
There was impatience in his tone, enough that Kiva winced inwardly and blurted out, “Galdric thinks we’ll have traveled far enough later today for him to windfunnel us the rest of the way to Ersa.”
Jaren said nothing, so Kiva toed the sand with her boot and continued rambling. “It’ll be good not to have to ride through the Forsaken Lands.
Everything I’ve heard about them has been —”
“I need to get back to Naari,” Jaren interrupted, definitely impatient now. “Is that all?”
Kiva swallowed, her eyes flicking over to where Naari was busy sparring with the others, revealing Jaren’s lie. He just wanted to be
anywhere that wasn’t with her.
But enough was enough.
Inhaling deeply, Kiva said, “No, that’s not all.”
Jaren sheathed his sword and crossed his arms, waiting.
Kiva, however, suddenly became aware of Caldon’s eyes on them, and also the sneaky but still obvious glances that the sparring partners were sending them, Torell, Ashlyn, Cresta, even Naari herself. Eidran alone seemed to be minding his business, fully absorbed in his training — or, more likely, choosing to give them privacy.
Coming to a decision, Kiva said, “Do you mind if we —” She reached for Jaren as she spoke, an instinctive move to guide him away from the curious eyes. But her words broke off when he physically jerked away from her.
Kiva’s hand fell, his reaction like a punch to the stomach. But she rallied and said, “Can we talk? Just for a moment?”
“We’re already talking.”
He was offering her nothing now, his tone and face emotionless.
She wasn’t sure how to proceed — or if to proceed. But she also knew she didn’t want to keep going as they had, so she tipped up her chin and said, “Away from the others.”
Not giving him the chance to reply, she left the open training area and headed deeper into the oasis, aiming for the secluded water’s edge. She couldn’t hear his footsteps behind her, but she also couldn’t bring herself to check. It was only when she stopped in the shade of a date palm nestled right up against the water that she looked to see if he’d followed.
Relief left her in a quiet exhale, but then the breath became trapped in her lungs at the still-emotionless look on his face.
“What do you want, Kiva?” he asked, his tone bland. Bored, even.
There was so much Kiva wanted — but mostly, she just wanted him.
Her resolve strengthened as she recalled the image of his face after he’d seen the burn wound on her shoulder, the way he’d thanked her with such meaning after she awakened Naari, his gentle guidance and instruction with her magic, and just minutes ago, the roar of him shouting at Caldon. Those were not the actions of someone who didn’t care about her.
Setting aside her fear and doubt, she looked straight into his eyes and said, “I’d like to talk about what happened. With Zuleeka.” Her heart was racing now. “I’d like to — to apologize for my part in that. I’d like to
explain.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why?”
Kiva blinked. “Why?”
He crossed his arms again, causing her gaze to unconsciously follow where the muscles tensed and shifted, before she gave herself a mental slap and told herself to focus.
“Why would you like to talk about it?” he clarified.
Kiva brushed her hair behind her ear, stalling. She didn’t feel comfortable sharing her true reasoning, her longing for his forgiveness and the return of his affection. Instead, she said, “I think it’ll be good for us to
clear the air.”
A quiet huff of laughter left Jaren.
It wasn’t an amused sound.
“To what end?” he asked.
Kiva’s courage began to trickle away. Perhaps she’d been wrong to start this conversation, thinking it was time without giving thought to whether he was ready. She quickly backpedaled, “Maybe we should —”
He spoke over her before she could make an excuse to delay their talk.
“Because the way I see it,” he said, his gaze locked with hers, “I really don’t care what you have to say.”
His statement was delivered in a calm, level voice, but Kiva felt as if she’d been struck, her entire body reeling backwards from the blow.
Noting her reaction, Jaren’s eyes flickered for the briefest of moments, but that didn’t stop him from continuing, “Caldon has already shared your side of the story. I don’t need to hear it again.”
Kiva’s throat was suddenly as dry as the desert around them. “I appreciate him advocating for me, but there are things he doesn’t know.
Things I — I’d really like to explain.”
Jaren made an aggravated sound and ran a hand through his hair, frowning toward the water. He then seemed to come to a decision and turned back to her, his eyes no longer emotionless, but ablaze with feeling.
“If you really want to do this, then fine, let’s do this. But I’m going first.” His voice was thick with anger now, his fiery gaze trapping hers.
“You lied to me. I won’t be a hypocrite and say I never did the same to you, because we both know I did. But the difference is, I came clean about it. I told you who I was, and from that point on, I told you everything. I invited you into my life, into my home. You not only hid who you were, you did it so well that I —” He cursed under his breath and glared down at the sand, before his gaze returned to snare hers. Unflinching now, he declared, “You made me fall in love with a lie. I don’t even know who you are — and frankly, I don’t want to.”
The words rang in Kiva’s ears, a damning, soul-crushing declaration. It was the first time he’d admitted to being in love with her — and it was said with such pain, such anger, that there was no ignoring how much he resented her for it. How much he resented himself for it. The back of her eyes burned fiercely, but she kept her head high, not wanting him to see how close she was to breaking.
“As far as I’m concerned,” he said, not yet finished shredding her apart, “you’re the person who is going to help me protect my people and save my kingdom. That’s it. I helped you with your magic yesterday because I need
you to be able to face your sister. Once that’s done, you and I will never have to see each other again.” He released a breath, as if relieved to finally have all that off his chest, and then asked, “Now, what did you want to tell me?”
Kiva’s lips were numb. Her whole body was numb.
You and I will never have to see each other again.
Gods, that didn’t just hurt. That destroyed her. Knowing that was what he wanted, knowing he was just using her for her magic, even knowing that she deserved it . . .
Something precious within Kiva withered and died, right there in the middle of the oasis.
She wanted to turn and run from him, to disappear into the date palms and hide from the world, to release the sobs building inside her until the agony eased.
But she didn’t do any of that, because Jaren was waiting, ready to hear the explanation she’d been so determined to give him.
She knew now that there was no point.
He was never going to forgive her.
Because he wanted nothing to do with her.
You and I will never have to see each other again.
The feeling coursing through Kiva was too overpowering, a wound that all the magic in the world would never be able to heal. But somehow, she managed to push it down, repressing her emotions as easily as Jaren seemed able to. It was the only way she could find the will to reply, her voice sounding dead even to her own ears as she answered, “Nothing. You’re right — Caldon probably told you everything you need to know.”
Jaren flinched at her voice, but Kiva knew better than to read into it.
He’d made his feelings perfectly clear.
“We should get back to the others,” she said, still in the same tone, staring over his shoulder and so missing the look on his face. “They’ll want
to leave soon.”
“Kiva —”
“I’ll see you back at camp,” she said, already turning away. She couldn’t handle the gentling of his voice, knowing she’d only embarrass herself if she stayed. He didn’t owe her his compassion, and the last thing she wanted was him feeling guilted into offering it. He’d told her in no
uncertain words what he wanted, and it was time she respected that. Time she quashed the hope she’d dared to believe in.
There was no future for them.
And she was a fool for ever thinking differently.
