Page 105 of While the Dark Remains

“A week,” says Vil, pacing the length of my and Saga’s room. “Aweek.”

“Can we last another week?” says Saga, perched on the couch, all restless, nervous energy. “What if Kallias reaches the weapon before the army arrives?”

“I can ask Finnur to make more magic to seal up the vein,” I say.

“It’s too risky with the Prism Master here,” Vil returns. “You could be caught. We’ll just have to strike early, if the weapon is breached too soon. We’ll have to hold the mountain until the army comes.”

“You said before that that was impossible,” I point out.

Vil flicks his eyes to mine, his jaw hard.

I try not to squirm with the guilt of still not having even acknowledged his confession.I want you to be my queen. I’m in love with you, Brynja.

“If we don’t, we’ll lose any control we could have hoped to have—either to Daeros or, gods forbid, Iljaria.”

“But we can’tdoanything against the Prism Master,” says Saga. “No one can. And if we’re all there when Kallias uncovers the weapon, the Prism Master will be the one to seize it.”

I shake my head. “Kallias has a plan. I overheard him discussing it with his engineer,” I tell them.

Vil still doesn’t like it. “It’s a risk.”

“It’s all a risk, Vil,” I retort. “But if we’re to strike at all, it has to be then. It will be our only chance.”

“I want to be there,” puts in Saga, pulling her knees up to her chin. “I want to be there when the weapon is found, when the fates of all ournations are decided. It won’t matter if Kallias recognizes me after we’ve captured him. I’ll keep my head down until then.”

Vil’s jaw goes tight, but he doesn’t argue with her.

“So,” I say. “If the army comes before the weapon is breached, we strike then.”

“And if the weapon is breached first,” says Saga, “we strikethen. Can we count on Aelia’s support, do you think?”

I nod. “At least until summer, when the emperor sends his army.”

“By then we’ll have a means to defend ourselves,” Vil says.

“Are you so confident you’ll be able to wield the Iljaria weapon?” I ask him.

“I know you have no faith in me, Brynja, but I wish you’d believe me the slightest bit capable.”

Something ugly twists inside my belly, and I’m ready to be done with the conversation. I don’t answer him.

He leaves a moment later, and Saga glowers at me over her tea. “You should be kinder to him, Bryn.”

Tears bite at my eyes, and I stalk over to the window, staring out at blurring stars.

She sets her tea down and follows me. “He cares for you a great deal.”

My throat works. “He told me he’s in love with me. He wants me to stay with him in Tenebris as his queen.”

“And what did you tell him?” Her tone is carefully neutral.

“Nothing.”

“Brynja.”

I turn from the window, a whorl of anger and grief. “I’m tired of being in the dark, Saga. I’m so tired of the dark. This mountain has taken half my life from me. I can’t stay here. I can’t. And I don’t—I don’tfeelthose things for Vil. I don’t think I ever will.” I realize it’s true, down to my very bones, and I can’t even quite regret it.

Saga’s eyes go soft and angry all at once. “But you feel those things for Ballast.”

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