Blood's Pride (Shattered Kingdoms) (40 page)

Jachad followed Meiran out of the ruined hall into a labyrinth of crumbling foundations scarred by wind-worn Norlander graffiti. The ruins were silent except for the occasional scratching of a lizard scuttling over the stonework. Wherever a fragment of wall cast a large enough shadow, a triffon lay in morose repose and watched them pass with dull eyes.

Once they had left the others well behind, Meiran stopped to take a drink from the wineskin she’d acquired during their brief visit with the Nomas, and he seized the moment. ‘When I was convincing my people to fight against Frea, I had the idea that you actually wanted to
win
this battle.’ He tugged the scarf from around his head and wound the colourful silk – a gift from his mother – around his neck. ‘And then I heard your battle plan, if you can call it that. I expected you to come up with something brilliant, something infallible. You can’t possibly expect to defeat Frea like that – Eofar and a few dozen triffons have no chance against her.’

‘I don’t care about Frea, or the battle,’ she informed him, wiping the excess wine from her mouth. Her Shadari eye
sparkled with that same wild, greedy look he remembered from Shairav’s room in the temple.

‘But you told the Shadari they’re going to defeat her.’

‘They are.’

‘Of course – you took the elixir, so you know that already,’ he observed darkly. He rubbed at the bristly stubble on his chin. ‘I’ve met a lot of fortune-tellers, seers, diviners, whatever. They all have one thing in common: they all make their living telling people what they want to hear.’

‘It’s all happening just like it’s supposed to,’ she continued as if he’d never spoken. ‘I was right, Jachi. It’s all happening.’ She walked over to the wall, yanked a loose stone free and restlessly tossed it aside.

‘And what will you be doing while the rest of us are out fighting Frea? I noticed you left yourself out of the battle plan. Faroth noticed, too.’

‘Faroth is a moron. He thinks I want his son.’

‘Can you blame him? Everyone else wants him.’

‘If I wanted him I’d have kept him when I had him,’ she said pointedly.

A dry, dusty breeze skittered through the ruins. He swallowed. ‘I didn’t think you had forgotten about that, but you can’t blame me – you had a knife to his throat. What was I supposed to think?’

In a flash her grey cheeks lost their brief colour and the energy animating her gestures drained away. ‘The same as everyone else,’ she answered flatly. She took another drink of wine and an uncomfortable silence settled in between them.

Into this silence he finally said, ‘I asked my mother what you spoke to her about.’

The expression on her face could have been dread or expectation, or some bastard mix of the two. ‘And?’

‘And she told me to ask you.’

She exhaled and turned back to the crumbling wall. Laying the wineskin down on top, she put both her hands on the dusty stones and stretched her arms out straight.

‘So,’ he said, realising with a sinking heart that he had brought them to the very moment he’d been dreading, ‘you’re still not going to tell me what you’re doing here?’

‘No,’ she replied dully, still looking down at the ground.

He moved behind her. ‘All right. I’m through playing this game with you.’ He brushed some of the tangled black hair back away from her ear, as if he wanted to be sure that she wouldn’t miss a word of what he had to say. She flinched at his touch – only just, but he saw it. ‘I’ve pretended to follow you around; I’ve played the unwanted suitor, the bothersome child. I’ve let you pretend that you’d just as soon be rid of me. But we both know that isn’t true. The Shadari may have hired me to bring you, but we both know
you
brought
me
here and not the other way around. Merciful Shof, I still don’t know why, but you wanted me here.’

Into the pause that followed, Meiran said in a voice that plunged straight into his heart, ‘I still do.’

He steeled himself. ‘Then tell me why you’re here.’

She shut her eyes. ‘No.’

‘All right, then you give me no choice. I’m leaving you.’ He spoke louder than he meant to, but he couldn’t help himself.
‘I convinced my people to join this fight, and fight is what I’m going to do. Omir and his crew are going to defend the north edge of the city, by the temple, and I’m going with them. You can do whatever you came here to do – it’s of no interest to me. I know which side I’m on.’

The afternoon sun glanced off the grey skin of her shoulder, warming it to bronze. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. Her voice was no louder than the whisper of the hot, dry wind. ‘You can’t change anything – no one can.’

‘You keep saying that, but which one of us are you trying to convince?’ He flexed his hands as sparks danced around them. ‘Well. We’ll see.’ He turned away from her and started back towards the city.

‘Jachi.’

The sun had begun to slip behind the mountains. Long shadows stretched over the ruins as the warm light faded; the battle was near at hand. The stones around him still pulsed with the day’s heat but the air was suddenly cool. He could see Meiran clearly – he felt like he was seeing her clearly for the first time since she’d come back into his life.