The Star-Touched Queen (The Star-Touched Queen #1)(40)

He stood in front of me, his eyes hectic and alive. Even through my fury, I couldn’t look away from him.

“You and I are the ground and ceiling of our empire,” he said, his voice harsh and desperate, pleading and ruthless at once. “You and I can carve lines into the universe and claim all that we want. We need only share between ourselves. Don’t you see?”

“All I see is your power,” I said. “None of my own. All I see are my words and expectations thrown up against whatever it is that you choose to tell me—”

“—whatever I can tell you,” finished Amar. “And as for your power, I was hoping you would ask that. It’s time to practice.”

“Leave me alone,” I hissed.

“Your duties in Akaran will pay no heed to the whims of its empress.”

I bared my teeth at Amar and he returned it with a half-grin.

“From now on, whatever concentration you use is yours alone. It is your power. Not mine.”

“How would I know?”

“You’ll feel it in your bones. Like blood singing to marrow.”

I slid off the bed and when my feet hit the floor, something silvery trilled through my body, like light had seeped in and was rediscovering me. It was like being full for the first time. Like being weighed and made whole.

“Power needs balance,” said Amar. “Our game today, as our reign, is simply a matter of reaction. What can we do when chaos is flung into our face?”

A sound sliced through the air. I looked up just in time to see an arrow heading straight for me.

“What will you do?” asked Amar. His voice was everywhere at once.

I felt a tug in my hands, a strange itch and restlessness. Without thinking, I threw up my hands, all my attention focused on the arrow. It stopped midair. I flicked my hand and it whirled to charge at Amar. He snapped his fingers and the arrow shivered, paled and turned into a blossom of ice.

“I take it you’re angry,” said Amar. The brittleness from his voice wasn’t gone; if anything it seemed more pronounced. “Only two more days until the full moon. Then, if you want, you may certainly fling arrows into my back. Until then, try for more creativity. We cannot just spin problems back. We must do more.”

More, I thought. I could do that.

I don’t know how much time passed while we danced, spinning power between us like it was just another game. He tossed the ball of ice my way and I shattered it.

“What were you thinking when you broke that?” he asked. Even though I saw him across the room, I could feel his voice at my ear, low and burning.

“You.”

He laughed and continued to conjure things out of the air and throw them to me. Amar’s movements were graceful, spinning. All his power seemed concentrated and sinewy as the muscle that corded his arms and shoulders. Mine felt strange. Lumbering. But instinctual all the same. I’d never felt this way before, as if there was an unexplored dimension in my body full of silver light, ready to be devastating. The power in my veins terrified me. Not just because I knew it was real, but because I wanted it. I reveled in it even as I glared at Amar across the room.

He must have known because he grinned each time we sparred. He flung a chakra of flames in my direction and I turned it to a great wave of water to rush at him. Without blinking, he flattened the whole wave to a plane of ice and slid forward, graceful and serpentine.

“You enjoy it, don’t you?”

“You know the answer.”

“I want to hear it from your lips.”

“We don’t always get what we want,” I said. “Tell me, this ability of mine was not something the moon prevented you from revealing, was it?”

This time, he had the grace to look guilty.

“No. But such things need a foundation before they can be known. I thought it was best for you. It was a protective measure too. Untested power is a dangerous thing.”

Another flash of fury shot through me. I thought it was best for you. The light in our room clung to him in silver wisps. Amar pushed his hands through the curls of his hair and in that moment, he looked so … lost. In spite of myself, I wanted to ease that pain from his face. To make him smile. I was weak before him.

“This is why you couldn’t move the thread,” he said. “You need to believe in it. Believe in you.”

Amar twisted his fingers and the silk of my sari changed … from yellow to deepest blue, flecked with stars.

“My star-touched queen,” he said softly, as if he was remembering something from long ago. “I would break the world to give you what you want.”

I touched my sari and the stars faded.

“I want you to leave,” I said, not looking at him.

When I looked up, he was gone.

*

I stared at the closed door before sinking to my knees. I had been a fool to fall so quickly for Amar’s gift: the most beautiful illusion of independence. It had felt so real that I thought it hummed in my bones. Now it was gone. Even our kisses felt like treachery. All that was left was the unending and infinite niggling of something that didn’t quite fit together—his words, his promises … my powers.

I wrapped my arms around my knees. If this power was truly something that was in me all along, why would my mind keep it a secret? A familiar pang struck me. The absence of something unnamed fluttered just beneath the surface of my skin, a secret hovering within reach.