Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(15)

He smiles. Now, of all times, he smiles at me—with that look that makes me want to do senseless things.

“Then tell me,” he says. “I can’t read your mind, not for lack of trying.”

“Can you change the past?”

He takes my hand, and I imagine that I can feel him through the soft leather of my gloves. “Ren—”

“I’m serious.”

His smile falters but only for a moment. “You’re always serious, Renata. I’m sure you were born serious.”

“Being responsible for thousands of deaths will do that to a girl.”

“You’re not a girl,” he says, caressing my shoulders. “You’re a shadow. You’re steel. You’re vengeance in the night. You’re a Whisper of the rebel Moria.”

I know he means to compliment me. Among our units, we are as good as our skills. But when he tells me I’m the whisper of death, and not a girl, it’s like an arrow in my chest. I stare back into his eyes, wishing he were a little less reckless. And yet, then he wouldn’t be Dez.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No, Renata.” He sighs. “I can’t change the past. If my father’s bedtime stories serve me, there’s only one way to change the past, and that’s with the Knife of Memory.”

I laugh because if I was born serious, then Dez was born brazen. The Knife of Memory. A blade so sharp it can cut away whole swaths of memory at a time—whole years, whole histories. A classic Moria children’s tale.

“You can’t make this right, Dez. Only I can.”

He wags a finger at me. “As Margo so lovingly reminded us, we lost our last stronghold because of me. I couldn’t defeat the Bloodied Prince. If she’s going to turn her rage on someone, it should be me.”

“That wasn’t your fault. We had no allies and were outnumbered ten to one, Dez.”

He looks away but agrees with a nod. Something inside me twinges at the hurt on his face. Under the shade of verdina trees, I allow myself to finally relax into the strength of him. His tunic is loose and unbelted. I brush the wild black waves of his hair that never want to stay tied down. It hurts to move my neck, so I stand on a thick tree root.

“Why do you get to comfort me, but you won’t allow me to do the same?” He chuckles and rests his hands on my waist. We’re eye to eye, and I surprise him with a kiss. The fear that’s dug its claws in me all day lets go. I can let go when it’s just the two of us. He wraps an arm around my lower back and presses me against him. Everything about him is sturdy, dependable as the great trees that surround us. He draws back to catch his breath. When I rest a hand over his heart, I can feel it race. His crooked smile brings a tight sensation in my belly. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

“I’ve wanted to do that since we left ángeles,” I whisper. “Thank you for today. For coming back for me.”

“I will always come back for you.”

Those are bold words, an impossible promise that he can’t actually keep. We don’t live in a world that allows for those kinds of vows. But I choose to believe them. I want to.

He reaches around his neck and unties a black leather cord with a copper coin strung from it. On one side it has the profile of a nameless woman with a laurel crown, and on the other side three stars around the inscribed year, 299. As long as I’ve known him he’s never taken it off. It takes me a moment to realize he’s offering it to me.

I shake my head. “I can’t take that.”

“Can’t?” he asks. “Or won’t?”

“Illan gave you that pendant.”

Dez holds the coin along its edge. “And he got it from my grandfather, who was a blacksmith for the crown. There were exactly ten of them minted before the capital fell under siege by a rebel group from the former queendom of Tresoros and all production stopped. My father says King Fernando keeps a gallery with his trophies, and the other nine coins are there as a reminder that Puerto Leones was once surrounded by enemy lands—Memoria, Tresoros, Sól Abene, Zahara. Their fate was to be conquered by the lions of the coast.”

“How come I’ve never heard that story?” I ask. To be fair, there are dozens of versions that tell of how the Fajardo family of Puerto Leones conquered or “united” the continent. But the queendom of Tresoros was an ally. I didn’t know there were still rebel groups over a century after its fall. I wonder, will we still be in this fight in another few decades?

Dez brings me back to the present by gently tucking my hair behind my ear. His smile is so beautiful it hurts to look at him for too long.

“Consider yourself lucky to miss many of my father’s ramblings of ancient times. That doesn’t change the fact that I want you to have it.”

I shrug my good shoulder. “I can’t wear anything around my neck.”

“Keep it in your pocket. In your boot. Just keep it with you.” He presses it onto my open palm and closes my fingers around it. “It’s worthless if you try to buy anything with it, but it’s the only family heirloom I have.”

“All the more reason I shouldn’t have it.”

He licks his lips and sighs. “When I realized today that you hadn’t gotten out of the village, I knew there was a possibility that I wouldn’t see you again. That I’d never hear you yell at me or correct me when I’m wrong. I’d never hold you or see you in the courtyard back home. I couldn’t bear it, Ren. Everything is going to change soon, and I don’t know who’s going to make it out alive, but I want you to have a part of me.”