Obsidian and Stars (Ivory and Bone #2)(65)

“But she was going about it all wrong! She might have killed Anki, but Dora would have certainly killed one of us. Which of us would you have been willing to sacrifice to have that revenge, Kol? Would you have sacrificed Seeri? What about Pek?” I notice my voice rising in anger and I force myself to stop and take a breath. I turn away from Kol. It’s too hard to say these words while looking at him. “Seeri wasn’t thinking. And that’s just one example. Seeri is not ready to take on the role of High Elder.”

“But you are?”

“Are you?”

“I have to be. The Divine has chosen me—”

“And she has chosen me too.”

Kol and I both go quiet. I notice the other noises all around us—the sounds of the island waking up. Birdsong. Wings fluttering up to high branches.

“I’m sorry,” Kol says after a long stretch of silence. He climbs to his feet, moves to my side, and takes my hand. For the first time since he’s been on the island, I see the warmth I’ve come to expect in his rich brown eyes. “I shouldn’t condemn you for your unwillingness to do something that I’m unwilling to do, as well. You can’t walk away from your clan at the time they need you most. I can’t do that either.” He pauses. His hand moves to my chin. His thumb traces my bottom lip but he only studies my face. He does not kiss me. Not now. Perhaps not ever again. “I suppose the next thing to say is that our betrothal is . . . what was it you called Seeri and Pek when we first met? An impossibility. Perhaps we’ve become the impossibility now.”

“Are you trying to break our betrothal?” I ask. “Is that what you’re saying to me? That our betrothal is over?”

“I don’t think we need to break our betrothal,” Kol says. “If you must remain the High Elder of the Olen, and I must remain the High Elder of the Manu, I think it may already be broken. I don’t know if there is a way to repair it.”

I can’t hear these words from Kol’s lips. I lean against him and cover his mouth with mine, silencing him with a kiss. But he draws away.

“Mya,” he says. There’s an apology in his voice. Regret. But then he looks into my eyes and I see a war of emotions on his face. He wants to let go—he’s trying to let go—but he’s losing. His hands grip my upper arms, holding me away, but it lasts only a moment before he pulls me back against him, pressing a line of kisses along my hair. His lips stop at my ear. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to let you go.” His mouth moves to mine. Heat binds our lips together, but the kiss is brief. “Even though you may already be gone,” he says.

For a long moment I stand silently slumped against him, my head on his shoulder. Then I tip my head back and look into his face. “There is another option,” I say.

He leans away. To see me better, I think, but maybe to put distance between us.

“Our clans could merge,” I say.

Even as the words slip from my lips, I know how unlikely it is to work. I know his father never wanted a merger. Even when he sought an alliance with our clan, he made it clear a merger was unacceptable. To Arem, merging with another clan meant being absorbed by them.

It was always the same with Chev. He never wanted to merge with any clan, with the exception of the Bosha, because we were one clan already. To him, a merger with the Bosha meant an absorption of the Bosha. Exactly what he and Arem never wanted for the Olen and the Manu.

“Who would lead? Would you be the High Elder, or would I be?”

“We would both be,” I say.

“So your clan would follow you and mine would follow me? How is that a merger?”

“Kol . . .” I can’t stand the practical tone of his voice. Yet as I think through the consequences a merger presents, I realize that perhaps it is a completely impractical suggestion.

“It’s not that I haven’t considered the idea of our clans blending, Mya. But I can’t see how it would preserve anything. The Divine made us separate. Traditions, dances, songs, stories—so much would be lost by both our clans if we were no longer independent.”

I think about this—about the independence that would be lost. If the Manu were to combine with the Olen, could I allow the Olen to follow Kol, even if they were following me, too? What if Kol and I differed on a decision? Could I allow him to override me? Could I allow my clan to follow him instead of me? I don’t think I could.

It would mean the end of the Olen, and the Olen cannot be allowed to end.

“What about the Bosha? Do the Olen still intend to accept them back?”

“That was my brother’s wish when he died—”

“Because I don’t think the Manu could ever merge with a clan that accepted the Bosha. They have done too much harm to us. A merger that included them . . . I’m afraid it could never be possible.”

So there, I think. The first instance where we could not lead as one.

“I know you want me to say I would walk away from the Bosha to merge with the Manu,” I say. “But I can’t give you the answer you want.” I slide out of his arms. The day is brightening. The others are starting to stir. “Though I wish so much that I could.”

He holds me at arm’s length. “Don’t say that. Don’t. Because you don’t really mean it.”