The Last Namsara (Iskari #1)(97)

Dawn had arrived.

“Roa convinced the scrublanders you’re the new Namsara,” Safire explained as they approached a door on the other side of the orchard. She slid the key into the lock. The lock clicked. The door creaked open. “They’ve offered you sanctuary. You’ll be safe there . . . for a little while, at least.”

Torwin stepped into the stairway first. Asha went after him, followed by Safire, who locked the door behind them. Together, they climbed the steps to a dark room, where Torwin grabbed some kind of pack and hoisted it over his shoulder.

When they walked out onto a rooftop terrace, a night-black dragon with one yellow eye prowled before them. Waiting. Waiting for a long time. Black talons gleamed in the dawn’s light.

“Kozu.”

A rumbled growl answered her.

Torwin opened the pack and pulled out two flight coats, two pairs of gloves, and two sandskarves.

Asha turned back to her cousin.

“Torwin has everything you need,” Safire said, then pulled her into a hug, squeezing the breath out of her. Asha squeezed back, her vision blurring with tears.

“I miss you already,” Asha whispered. Safire squeezed even harder.

Sounds in the distance wrenched them apart. They turned to look over the city, where torches floated through the streets, gripped in the fists of soldats, already searching for the escaped Iskari.

“I have to go,” Safire said. “Before they realize I’m helping you.”

Asha turned to find Torwin already dressed for flying and holding out a coat for her. She threaded her arms through the sleeves, then quickly did up the clasps and wrapped the cotton sandskarf around her neck, pulling it over her head. Asha mounted Kozu first, with Torwin following.

“Don’t do anything reckless, Namsara,” Safire said from the ground.

Asha didn’t know whether to smile or cry.

“Don’t you do anything reckless.”

A shout rang out from much too close. Safire turned to look as Torwin slid an arm around Asha’s waist.

“I have to go . . . ,” said Safire, catching sight of her soldats below.

Not ready to let her go yet, Asha reached for Safire. Despite her fear, Safire reached back, clasping Asha’s hand hard.

“I love you,” said Asha.

When Torwin clicked to Kozu, their fingers slid apart. Kozu spread his wings. Safire stepped back into the terrace archway, concealing herself. Kozu took a running start and dived into the air. Asha lurched forward as the wind whistled past, then quickly looked back, but the shadows had swallowed Safire. Asha looked beyond her, to the flat rooftops and copper domes of the palace, then to the royal quarters. A lamp burned in one of its windows. If Asha squinted, she could see someone standing there, looking out into the night, watching as a criminal and a skral escaped into the early morning sky.





Fifty


They didn’t stop flying until the sky darkened again that night and the stars clustered above them. Even then, Torwin seemed agitated. Like he wanted to fly straight to the scrublands without stopping. Despite the creases of exhaustion next to his mouth, despite the dark smudges beneath his eyes, despite the way he hunched over a paltry meal of nuts and too-hard bread, he wanted to keep going, to put as much distance between them and the horrors they’d left behind.

As Asha watched him, she thought of Shadow. Torwin would have seen Jarek strike that killing blow. He would have felt the moment Shadow’s life winked out. He would be feeling the absence of his dust-red companion even now.

Asha didn’t know how to soothe such a hurt. Didn’t know if it could be soothed.

She sat close to him while they ate. Let her thigh fall against his. Smiled at him when he looked at her.

But even when he laced his fingers through hers or brushed his thumb across her cheek or stared at her like he couldn’t believe they were free, the silence still shimmered. And the space between them felt littered with loose threads. Threads streaming from an unfinished tapestry.

“I’ll stay up and watch,” she said after they set up the tent.

Torwin shook his head. “I won’t sleep anyway. You get some rest.” He grabbed his lute, then kissed her scarred cheek before heading toward a grassy dune. “Tomorrow will be another long day.”

Asha watched him walk away until the darkness swallowed him up.

She climbed into the tent.

After a moment, she heard a familiar sound. The glossy, golden sound of his lute. Asha sat perfectly still, listening. And then exhaustion overcame her.

Lying down, she closed her eyes and let Torwin’s song lull her to sleep.

The smell of smoke and ash woke her. When she sat up, Elorma crouched over a fire just big enough to illuminate his face.

Too tired to protest whatever it was he wanted from her now, she went to sit next to him.

“Aren’t you done with me yet?” Curling her knees up to her chest, she hugged them hard to keep from shivering. “I did what the Old One wanted. What else is there?”

Elorma smiled, his eyes reflecting the fire. The hollow places of his face were darkened by shadow. “Much more, I’m afraid. Your work is just beginning, Namsara.”

Namsara.

That name. It would take some getting used to.

Elorma cracked his knuckles and rose to his feet. “I’m here to bestow your final gift. The gift of a hika.”