The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(103)

“We could help you find an equivalent means for the bonding,” Vrea mused. “I am certain I could convene with the Ana and the Aba to work out a solution. If you stayed, we could do this for you.”

Nok bit back a sigh of frustration. “The wolf seems to understand you. Can’t you—I don’t know, tell it to come to me?”

“I can no more force its will than I could your own. And I would not, even given the opportunity. One’s caul is their own; that bond is sacred. It is a part of you, a part of your spirit. Your heart.”

“So why won’t it listen to me?”

That seemed to amuse the priestess. “Often we do not listen to ourselves. Forgive the expression, but it’s only human.”

He watched the wolf. Again it seemed to dim—fading just slightly, retreating a step, and then another. Then it turned and slipped straight through the stone balustrade of the balcony, dissipating like fog in the morning.

Nok stared at the space where it had been.

“Can I think about it?” he said finally. “Your offer?”

“Of course. In the meantime, you are our honored guest. We’ve given you and your friends an apartment right in the Heart—I think you will find them comfortable. Heal, relax. Think. It is a serious decision you make.” Then she smiled in her vague, neither-here-nor-there way. “Take all the time you need. Ours is running out, but what we have left we are happy to share with you.”



When Nok pushed his way back into the hall he ran headlong into Nasan.

“You’re in a hurry,” she said. “Do you even know where you’re going? Come on, I’ll take you back to our apartments.”

He fell in step alongside her.

“So, that Vrea’s a strange one,” Nasan said as they descended the stairs leading out of the throne room and into the Heart. Her tone was light, but he could hear the curiosity girding her voice. The asking without asking.

“You were eavesdropping,” he said flatly. It wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t a question, either. “How much did you hear?”

His sister shrugged, utterly unabashed. No less than he expected from her.

“Everything, then. Well, go on,” he said. “I’m sure you have an opinion.”

“No opinion.” She shook her head. “What’re you going to do?”

He scrubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “I have no idea, Nasan. My options are either to try and become this . . . this mythological hero of old, this savior like they want me to be, or to let down the entire pantheon of gods . . . ,” he broke off. “This is madness.” He barked out a laugh. “Can you imagine what Father would say if he were here? His failure—his mistake of a son. He’d never believe it.”

Nasan stopped in the dead of the empty Heart, and spun to meet his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he countered. “You know it’s true. He saw—he thought I was worthless.”

“Ba, he . . .” Nasan sighed, for the first time seeming to struggle with her words. “I loved him—”

“And he loved you.” The words wrenched out of him, harsher and more accusatory than he’d intended.

“I loved him,” Nasan repeated firmly. “But he was wrong about you, Nok. What he did to you was wrong. How he saw you was wrong. I think if he were here now, he’d see that, and he’d be sorry. He’d be proud.”

Was it true? Was that even what he wanted, after all this time? “It doesn’t matter,” Nok muttered. Tears stung his eyes. He blinked them away, forced them back down. “It’s too late. What good is it, finding out I have that . . . that power, when everyone who was worth saving is dead and gone?”

“There are others, other Kith,” she reminded him. “Wandering the deserts, lost without their Gifts, lost without the Pact. And there are my kids—Ony and the others.”

He looked sharply at her. If I said yes to Vrea, he thought. This would give Nasan everything she wanted. A second life for the Gifted. He felt a flush of shame at the thought. She’s my sister. Don’t be an idiot. She wants what’s best for you.

Didn’t she?

“Maybe,” he said aloud. “Maybe it would help them. But it would still be me. I could—I don’t know, I’d find a way to muck it up. I’m just . . . gods, Nasan. How am I supposed to carry the weight of all those people? I couldn’t even take care of you, back at the camps. All I had to do was keep you safe, and I failed!”

“It wasn’t your fault, Nok. You know that, right? We were kids. You were just a kid.”

“But I was older. I was supposed to protect you—”

“And you did. For as long as you could. You did good, big brother.”

“It wasn’t enough,” he said. Her screams echoed out from the past, from all those years ago . . . I won’t let them take me!

“Listen,” said the Nasan that stood before him now. “If you need me to forgive you, I forgive you. You did your best. And you succeeded—I’m alive.”

He looked up. In her face he saw both the mischievous little child she had been and the cagey, sardonic girl she had become, and the years lost between them. She reached forward and gave him an affectionate tap on the shoulder. It felt rather like a punch, but he understood she meant well.