Page 65 of Daughter of the Dark Sun
“Screw destiny. Live for me, for yourself!”
Therat’s lips brushed against hers, his breath intoxicating every sense and sending her into a dizzying whirlpool of emotions. For her entire life, Apattar walked under the shadow of Death; the idea of living for herself seemed an impossibility. Long nights spent telling herself she was never meant to be happy, that hers was a life of sorrow. The last life of sorrow, the one whose pain would end the world and restore the gods.
But maybe fate could not be so easily discerned. Maybe she could live a life filled with love and happiness. And, if fate demanded otherwise, she would find a way to defy it, would heal the worldandsave Therat.
Laisha.
She sent Apattar on a quest to find Therat, not the voice in her head. The pale woman was ancient, old enough to remember the world before it descended into complete chaos. She would have the answers. She must.
“I’ll try. For you.”
Apattar didn’t know whatto say to Therat after they left the inn. The two ate breakfast at a coffee bar in silence while her tearful confession played on a loop.
Every minute living in safety in Andeshar seemed as if a blessing from her Lady Eithranren. Hatred for the Dark Goddess bloomed into fervent love over the years. Murdered and fed to the stars, her voice leaked in through a crack in the void, but how or why remained a mystery. Apattar told herself the Goddess’s sight could be blurred, the future she spoke of only a half-truth. Eithranren led her to Laisha, who in turn sent Apattar into thewaiting arms of Therat. The pale woman with immense power, an immortal sorceress who spoke of a home forevranenith. The truth was tangled in there somewhere.
A weight lifted from her chest the more distance the two travelers put between them and the city. The air warmed, heaviness melting away with the fresh desert air. Autumn clung to the world with fiery hands. Apattar savored the heat, wondering when she would feel it again. If she ever would.
Therat reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping the woman in her tracks.
“You haven’t said anything since we left the room this morning. Did I say something wrong?”
The wind swept the curls around his face into a frenzy. He shaved before they left, beard now neat and trimmed short. The look suited him much more than the untamed tangle. He looked as if a king—a consort of the gods, even.
“Yes and no. But, mostly no.”
“Mostly no?” he asked softly.
“You upended everything in my life, put it in disarray. But I’m glad you did.”
“And what did you learn?” Therat leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. The warmth of it coursed up her arm and planted itself inside her heart.
“I’ve never known what I wanted in my life besides a chance at freedom. I once thought it meant following my sister, learning her arts, seeking a way to supplicate myself to theMakhaerenand become aMakhiri. Later, I thought I would find freedom if I could heal the world. Restore my Lady and save theevranenithfrom their curse. For four years I lived with this thought, came to accept Her into my heart.” Apattar paused, sucking in a breath. “Now I realize I’ve only ever wanted someone to want me. It had to be you, and I am left wondering if I ever understood what my Lady told me.”
Therat studied her face, lips trembling as she vocalized the realization that brought her to tears last night.
“Last night,” he said. Could he read her thoughts? “Mireithren, my sweet siren! You were the one who told me we deserve love. It does not make you weak or a failure to accept my heart when I offer it with both hands. I am here, your Goddess is not! And if she came, I’d tell her to claim another to work her will.”
“You would fight a god for me?” Apattar whispered.
“I’d kill all of them for you if you desired.”
The world spun around Apattar. She reached a hand under the low collar of Therat’s tunic. Her fingers touched the scar across his chest, the flesh firmer than the rest around it. Therat leaned into her touch.
“I will try to make every day of your life so full of joy you forget this night ever happened.”
Tears welled up in Therat’s eyes with her tender words. He pulled her into his thick arms, wrapping them around her until she could feel the breath squeezed from her lungs. One hand moved to the back of her head, leaning her cheek against his scarred chest. She could listen to the steadyba-dum, ba-dumof Therat’s heart for hours.
After some time, Therat loosened his grip around Apattar and he pulled back, a smile on his face. He took her hand and started forward again in silence. Apattar focused on the warmth of his hand, trying to avoid thinking too hard about the words spilled from her mouth. Therat confused all of her senses, but everything about him invited her in. That smile, the glint in his eyes when he looked at her, the ferocity of his words, their earnestness almost believable. Gods, this was a bad idea but she claimed him and now she would never let him go.
An hour of walking north passed when they took refuge from the sun under a lonely rock.
“Where are we going, anyway?” Therat asked. Apattar stopped, realizing they never set a destination, too enthralled by each other to think about much else besides walking and breathing. She paused and mulled it over before speaking.
“We should go to the ruins of Andeshar, to where I met the woman who told me of a city with people like us. Shadewalkers and Shadow-weavers,evranenithcelebrated and not slain. But I don’t know how to get there, I can’t cross the river. So, I guess we wait.”
Therat nodded as she spoke, his eyes lighting up with a thought. “What if we go to the great forest of silver trees to the north?”
“The forest? Whatever for?”
