Page 22 of The Stolen Throne
Achlys—probably because Cain’s fists ball at his sides—decides to step in. “I got us to the cistern, and he got us out. We navigated the city together. No one followed.”
“You’re sure?” Reven is scanning the stretch of desert behind them. At least the sun is out. No shadows for Eidolon to use out here on this relatively flat part of our deserts. The bigger dunes where Cain’s zariphate tends to remain are off to the south and east of us.
“As sure as we can be,” Cain snaps. “But we should definitely clear out now.”
After another beat of searching, Reven gives a jerking nod and they both head toward the horses.
I step in front of Cain, though, shooting a glance at Reven, willing him to understand what I’m about to ask next. “Can you start on packing up and give us a minute?”
He doesn’t take his gaze from Cain. “Not too long.”
The instant he leaves, I feel…cut off. Different from the distance. It starts in my belly, or maybe my scar, and spreads outward.
I watch Reven’s back as he stalks away. What’s going on in his head?
But I can’t fix it until I get a chance to talk to him alone. Meanwhile, my best friend, who I hurt, is behind me, so I face him. I can hear Reven moving around, breaking down our temporary tent. Achlys goes to help him.
Cain doesn’t move, dark eyes studying my face but no smile. Where is his smile? “You’re unharmed?” he asks.
I shrug. I wasn’t harmed physically, and Eidolon never consummated “our” marriage. But some wounds don’t show on the outside.
He sort of nods to himself at that.
“Were you scared?”
He asked me that once. The time his sister, Pella, shoved me into a well and I almost drowned. Part of me wants to confess that I spent every waking moment terrified. I would make a terrible spy.
But I don’t tell him that, because I want the boy back who doesn’t frown at me like this, who teases and cajoles and charms. Is he gone? Or did I make it too hard for him to be like we were before?
“I wasn’t scared,” I say, hoping he’ll remember how that was my answer after the well. “Princesses don’t scare easy. Were you scared?”
After a beat, Cain huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. Does he remember? Then he shoots me a smile that is full of his particular brand of arrogance, but one I can tell is more teasing than truth. An expression so Cain that I have to smirk back. I’ve missed him, too. “Of course I wasn’t scared,” he says. “I’m—”
“Indestructible,” we both say together.
He remembered.
That’s when I finally move closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. He smells of sand and the spices Wanderers bake into their bread, and it’s so familiar my eyes sting. I’ve only hugged him like this a handful of times, mostly when I was a little girl. I hope he understands that this is my way of apologizing and also being relieved that he made it out okay. After a beat, he relaxes, arms coming around me.
This is the second time he’s come to rescue me. Third if you count that time in the palace before Reven’s shadows knocked him out. “Thank you.”
His chin drops to the top of my head, and we stand there like that until Reven says something to Achlys behind us. Nothing important, but we both know we don’t have time to waste.
Eidolon is still too close for comfort.
With a reluctance I can feel, Cain lets go. Then he glances at Reven and lowers his voice. “Be careful of him.”
I frown. “I know—”
“You don’t. He’s gotten worse.” And in Cain’s eyes I can see that he means it.
What happened out here in the desert while I was trapped?
“Just…be careful.” He reaches out to tweak a lock of my hair. “Okay?”
Slowly, I nod. “Okay.”
For a second, he looks like he doesn’t believe me or he wants to say more. Instead, he raises his voice. “Get a move on, shadow man. I don’t want to be left behind again if the king shows up.”
