Reign the Earth (The Elementae #1)(12)

Heat flushed my cheeks at the finality of his words. “And you believe this elixir is in the desert?” I asked. “Very little can survive in the desert.”

“I’ve been assured that it is,” he said. “Given to your people to protect.”

“I have never heard of such a thing,” I told him honestly. “Perhaps my father would know.”

“You cannot tell him,” Calix said, turning his face to glare at me, hard and serious. “If you do, I will know there can be no faith between us as husband and wife.”

“But why?” I asked. “He may know the answer.”

“We may have peace, but your father still knows me as his enemy,” he told me. “It has to be done carefully, and my hope is to find it without him ever knowing.”

Anger rose in my chest, tight and hot. “You mean because you believe he might not let you have it if you find it.”

“I do not want to be set up to oppose your father,” he said, touching my hand. “For both our sakes.”

Better between them than standing to the side as they burn another one of my brothers in the sand. I remembered my bold words to Kata the night before; I had never thought that they would come to bear quite so rapidly. “Why did you tell me?” I asked softly.

“Because you are not my enemy,” he said, tugging my hand to his mouth so he could kiss it. “You are my wife. And keeping this secret will prove that I can trust you as I so desire.”

He continued to apply gentle pressure to my hand, making me come toward him in the middle of the bed, and he stopped when I was right in front of him. I licked my lips, still frightened, but it wasn’t as paralyzing as before. “Can I trust you?” I asked, but I knew the answer before he said it. I could never tell him about Kata, or about the lake, or everything I knew about the elemental powers.

He nodded, his face grave. “Always,” he told me, coming closer and kissing me again. My heart thudded against my chest, but I swallowed down the fear that rose up with it. I could take a little pain—I was a queen now. I could do this.

Everything felt strange—his mouth against mine was slick and intimate, and I couldn’t stop from jumping every time he touched my skin. As the barriers between our skin disappeared, I felt vulnerable and exposed, my muscles tense and unsure.

When the worst of the pain struck, I cried out, and he told me it would be better after that. I bit my lip and tried not to let him see me cry, but I couldn’t help but feel tricked by my mother’s words and my husband’s promise—instead of some wondrous act, it felt like he had betrayed whatever delicate trust he had just spoken of. Instead of two people made whole, I felt like I had fractured.





The Dragon on the Wall

The next morning I woke with the sun, and my husband was asleep in the bed beside me. I stared at him for barely a moment, and I inched my way to the bottom of the bed, trying to get out without waking him.

The sheet pulled away from me, and I cringed at the rush of cold air. I wanted something to cover myself with, and more than that, something to curl into and never emerge from, something to help me forget the night before. Shame, I realized. I felt ashamed, and it was a foreign feeling in my breast.

I stood from the bed, shivering. My wedding robes were folded neatly in the corner, and I picked them up. It seemed strange to wear these clothes twice, but I had to leave and I didn’t care what I wore to do it.

My sandals were beneath the robes, and I left them there. I needed the sand and the stone beneath my feet to remind me that there was something unchanging left in the world.

Jitra was more quiet and still than I had ever seen it. The celebrations would have gone on late into the night, and now it left the walkways empty for me. Ducking between two rock-hewn homes, I found the narrow entrance in the rock that led below the city to the place I was looking for. I moved easily along the steep staircase despite the lack of light. Desert people could hear the whispers from the earth, and I had long since learned the language Jitra spoke.

The staircase ended, and it opened into a room. I lit the torch there, careful to replace the flint. It crackled to life and filled the cool room with sudden heat, revealing the secret of the chamber.

There were names carved into the wall, hundreds of names in small, cramped writing. I moved down along the walls, dragging my fingers over the names like I could call out to my kinsmen.

“Oh.”

I gasped at the voice behind me, dropping the torch and spinning to face my husband’s brother, then jumping away when I felt the heat of the fire on my legs.

“Easy,” Galen said, rushing forward. He caught up the torch and placed it safely in a cradle on the wall, immediately close to me.

I stepped backward.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. He shook his head, turning back. “Good day.”

Maybe it was the spirits of my family that made me bold, or maybe it was just that I wasn’t used to being poorly thought of, but as his foot touched the stair, I called, “I would like to know why you don’t like me very much.”

He stopped, his hands on the wall, making his shoulders hunch up. “What makes you think that, Shalia?”

His use of my name seemed harsh, but I remembered him looking at Calix and me and then walking away the night before. “You didn’t speak to me last night. You don’t wish to speak with me now.” I smiled a little. “I don’t think I’ve seen you smile yet.”