The Last Namsara (Iskari #1)(84)

“What are you . . . ?”

Pulled him all the way up to his friend.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Asha said when the scrublander girls stopped dancing and turned to face them. Sensing what she was about to do, Jas tried to tug his hand free and escape, but Asha held firm. “I’m afraid I have to rush off, but I don’t want to abandon my dancing partner. So I wondered . . .” Asha looked from one to the next, until her eyes fell on the girl Jas had been watching. Lirabel, he’d called her. “I was wondering if you might want to dance with him?”

Lirabel’s big eyes looked from Asha to Jas in surprise. She was a soft-looking girl with a heart-shaped face and a gentle mouth. Lirabel dipped her head shyly, then said, “I would be honored.”

And that was that.

Asha smiled. Jas looked terrified. But when Lirabel looked up into his face, he stepped toward her, swallowing.

Asha released his hand. Turning, she pushed out of the crowd, heading in the direction Torwin had disappeared, down the path between tents.

She walked past the noise and the crowds and finally caught sight of him near the outskirts of New Haven.

“Torwin! Wait!”

At the sound of her voice, he slowed. Then turned around.

Asha ran to catch up, stopping just before a leaning structure that smelled like iron. There was no door, just a small opening, and in the starlight Asha could make out the shape of an anvil before everything melted into shadow. The smithy stood on the edge of the camp. Out here, the world was silent and dark and the stars were bright specks of sand, glittering above them.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You’re supposed to be—”

“Dancing with Jas?”

Torwin looked away from her.

Was he . . . jealous?

“It’s rare for someone I’ve only just met to be kind to me instead of afraid of me,” she told him, touching the crimson fabric of her dress. It was a little rough, but she never truly belonged in the beautiful sabra silk of her kaftans, and Asha didn’t mind it. “He gave me this.”

“Did he?” Torwin smiled a shadow smile. A fake. “Well, Jas certainly has fine taste. You look exceedingly pretty tonight.” He looked over his shoulder. “He’s probably wondering where you are. Maybe you should—”

“Or maybe you should tell me what’s wrong.”

Torwin went quiet, looking immediately out over the night-touched tents. Asha studied the shape of him. Already he’d recovered from the effects of the dragon bone. He was lean and tall and strong. Not strong the way Jarek was strong. Torwin’s strength was a strength of spirit.

She hadn’t forgotten what he’d said in the meeting tent a few days ago. He would stay until the wedding, he told her. And now the wedding was over.

And here they were.

“I heard a rumor tonight.” She stepped toward him. “Are the skral planning to leave Firgaard?”

He kept his gaze away from her, nodding. “The skral support your brother, but most intend to leave the city after the invasion.” Torwin sighed, running long fingers through his hair. “When this is over, if your brother secures the throne . . . the scrublanders have offered to take us across the desert.”

Us. Her heart sank at that word.

But not you, she thought, staring up at him. You’re planning to run even farther.

“For those who stay behind . . .” He shrugged. “No one knows what their fate will be.”

“Dax promised to free every slave.”

He nodded.

“So what’s the problem?”

“It’s easier said than done, Asha.”

“You can’t think he’ll go back on his word.”

“When we all go free, who will dress you and cook your meals? Build your temples and labor in your orchards? Your way of life will crumble and in the midst of that crumbling, we’re supposed to find our place among you? Be treated as your equals?”

“Yes,” she said, angry—but whether it was anger at his doubt, or her own, she wasn’t sure.

He shook his head. “Very few draksors will be eager to lose their slaves. And where will we live now that we’re free? Who will employ us?” He kicked at the earth beneath his feet. “Things are going to get worse before they get better. Draksors will be angry and skral will be easy targets. It will be dangerous for us to remain in the city.”

“So you’re leaving,” she said.

She wished she didn’t sound so angry.

Torwin merely glanced at her.

“When?” she demanded. The question had been burning within her for days now. “Tonight? Tomorrow?”

He swallowed. “When the army heads to Firgaard in the morning, I’ll leave for Darmoor. My things are already packed.”

Something broke inside her.

“You should go.” She spat the words like they were bitter. Like she hated the taste of them. She couldn’t look at him, thinking instead of what he’d told her. Of what he wanted most: freedom. She stared out at the hundreds of tents scattered across the valley. “You’ll be safer far away from here.”

Away from her.

Torwin went silent. After a moment, he stepped in close. “Safe?” His gaze bore into her. “Is that . . . ?” She could almost hear the thoughts spinning though his mind. “Are you trying to keep me safe, Asha?”