Page 112 of The King of Koraha
“Who taught you how to pick a lock?” she whispered, almost afraid of reminding him of his time with Xerxes.
“One of the soldiers. I learned so I’d be more useful to Xerxes.”
His disgust and self-loathing was painfully clear to her even without using The Eyes. Shyla needed to strengthen her mental shield, but she didn’t have any energy to spare. Nor did she think this was the time or place to convince him otherwise.
“That was a good strategy,” she said in a neutral tone.
“Strategy?” He just about sneered the word. “It was sickening. I fell right back into that soldier mindset of a loyal dog, wanting to please. Just like when I was in the Water Prince’s guard as I worked my way up to captain. It felt so damn good. It was so much easier. It’s who I am. Who I’llalwaysbe.”
She laced her fingers in his. “No. You. Are. Not.”
He pulled his hand away. “Come on, Shyla. Xerxes really didn’t need to use a pendant on me. Or magic. We both know it was a matter of time until I slipped back to my real self.”
He was worse than she feared. And insisting that he wasn’t that person anymore would be a waste of time. Rendor refused to hear it. She needed a new approach.
“You just called me a liar,” she said. And now that she thought about it, anger boiled in her veins. Before he could respond, she continued, “I canreadyour soul, Rendor. I know who you are better than you do. And you know what I suffered to gain that ability. You participated. You’ve seen me use it. But now you’re calling me a liar.
“You must also think I’m an idiot because, here I am, willing to die for someone who is irredeemable. Or perhaps I’m a selfish idiot because I’m willing to risk the life of every single person on Koraha for some dog soldier. And since you think I’m a lying idiot, if we don’t die, you’re welcome to go slink off to the corner with your tail between your legs and lick your wounds.” Shyla wanted to storm out of the hole, except the air still burned in her lungs. Or was that her fury? She settled for glaring at him.
He rubbed a blister-covered hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you were a lying idiot. I just need time to adjust. Surely you know how it feels to be suddenly freed from the compulsion.”
She did. Although she wasn’t going to tell him what happened to her when she crushed the blackfire. Not yet. Her ire died. She hadn’t been fair to him. “No, I’m sorry. I know you need time, but we don’t have much left.”
He took her hand and held it. “If we die, I will embrace the Sun Goddess and thank her for putting you in my path. Every sun jump I’ve spent with you has been a gift. And while I still don’t believe I deserve it, I’m eternally grateful.
“As for you…regardless of anything, past, present, and future, I love you. And will always love you. You’ve brought the sun back into my dark heart.”
Overwhelmed with the surge of joy that flooded her, she was unable to utter a word. Instead, Shyla clung to Rendor’s hand with both of hers. Then she leaned forward and brushed her dry lips lightly against his chapped ones.
He reached up and stroked her cheek. “Don’t cry, sunbeam. You need to conserve your moisture.”
She touched her face in surprise. Her fingertips came away wet—a good sign that she wasn’t completely dehydrated. Leaning back, she said, “You’re making progress.”
Confusion creased his forehead. “On what?”
“You said that you would embrace the Sun Goddess if you died. Before you swore you were headed for the seven caverns of hell.”
He expelled a raspy half cough, half laugh. “I’m being optimistic.”
“Good. Keep on being optimistic.”
“You, too.”
But it was hard when the heat intensified to almost unbearable levels. Hanging on to the dregs of her energy, she concentrated on filling her lungs with the hot suffocating air—an increasingly difficult act. Each inhalation was more painful and exhausting than the last. A horrible headache slammed behind her eyes. And her heart rate surged as the world spun around her.
Rendor passed out with a puff of exhaled air. She checked his pulse, resting her fingers on his hot neck. His dry skin felt like velbloud leather. His racing heartbeat thrummed under her fingertips, but he still breathed.
For how long? She wondered how much time she had left. The Sun Goddess would be disappointed to see her again. Not only had she failed her mission to stop the enslavement of the goddess’s people, but Shyla’s actions had probably doomed all of Koraha. It was going to be crowded in the sky. Not that she’d be there. At least she already had a good idea of what to expect in the seven caverns of hell.
And just when she thought it couldn’t get any hotter, it did. Perhaps she didn’t have a clue what to expect in hell. Shyla held on to consciousness until it faded and slipped through her scrabbling fingers.
The darkness was complete. Not a point of light. Nor a sound. No sense of her physical self. Not cold or hot. No goddess to perform a miracle for her. It reminded her of being trapped in the blackfire. Perhaps she’d never left. Or perhaps this was the first cavern of hell. A place where there was nothing but your thoughts. Effective punishment, facing all your failings.
And she had quite the list of mistakes, poor decisions, and selfish moments. Actually, it was more than a few moments of selfishness. She wielded the power of The Eyes and all she wanted to do was travel with Rendor. The new King was drowning in problems and her only desire was to get the job done and move on. Perhaps if she’d been more focused, she wouldn’t have fallen for Egan and Fellan’s trick.
A memory stirred. The one of Gurice and Mojag freeing her from the pendant. If they hadn’t come along, she’d still be Xerxes’ puppet. Gurice hadn’t let her wallow, had claimed everyone made mistakes, and she should learn from it and move on.
However, Shyla hadn’t learned her lesson and had been about to be trapped by Xerxes again. She imagined talking to Gurice now, explaining how she’d really let everyone down this time.
