Page 16 of The Stolen Throne
I stop. Reven looks like death on a stick. Sweat beads his forehead, and the pallor under his skin is visible even in the light of only one of the three moons.
He’s completely drained.
Teeth gritted, I leave him behind and start trudging through the sand in the direction of the city. If Cain returns with Achlys, they’re going to find a bad situation in my rooms instead of Reven and me. Eidolon will… Goddess, I don’t know what he’ll do to them. “They’re walking into a trap. They won’t know he’s waiting there—”
Reven catches up with me quickly, taking me by both arms. He leans over, face right in mine, even as I strain against his hold. “Think, Meren. Cain would be furious if I let you go back. If I let you put yourself at risk for him.”
“But he’d do it for me.” The words tear at my throat. I push at his chest. It barely moves him. “I can’t leave them.”
A clamor of bells goes off, able to be heard throughout the city and even here, far on the desert outskirts. The palace alarm.
“You can’t go back,” he says quietly.
I glance from Reven to the city and back, heart cracking with each peal of those wretched bells. He’s right. We can’t risk either of us falling into Eidolon’s hands now. I’m helpless all over again.
Powerless.
Goddess, I hate this feeling. One I’m all too familiar with—after all, my purpose in this life was written in stone before I was ever born—but that doesn’t mean I deal with it well.
Frustration pulses through my blood, and I have no place to put that pent-up energy other than clenching my fists into Reven’s shirt. I can’t do this. I can’t—
“We have to go. Now.” He takes off, and I have to scurry to follow.
As usual, when the man is on a mission, Reven walks with purpose, like a Devourer slicing through the ocean for a meal floundering in nearby waters. Unfortunately, I have shorter legs, and, even used to the desert, I’m stumbling along beside him.
“Wait. We’re going by foot?” I pointedly look down at my fancy and extremely impractical party dress.
“I have clothes.”
“Good for you.” Did he miss the point? I wave a hand at myself. “I don’t.”
“I meant clothes for you.”
“Oh.” That’s something at least. Even if his things will swamp me.
“What about Cain and Achlys—”
He doesn’t slow down or look at me. “Cain and I spent days traveling here together. We had time to work through a lot of different scenarios. I showed him the way through the cistern you used to sneak in and out.”
“Achlys knows the palace maybe even better than I do.”
“Then they have a chance.”
I’m huffing and puffing now. “A little slower if you want to keep me around.” I want to stop them even as the words are leaving my mouth. He’s trying to help me, and I’m back to pampered-princess mode.
It’s a defensive instinct. Or that’s what I tell myself.
Reven says nothing. He does slow, though not by much.
Is it me? I know we’re trying to get out of here fast, but he’s being a little…twitchy.
“You did this when you kidnapped me the first time, you know. Walked really fast. Of course, we could have been followed then, too, which was probably why you were in such a hurry. And I guess this time doesn’t count as kidnapping…”
I trail off as he slows more, though he still doesn’t look at me. And the way his face is a mask of…nothing…makes me hesitate.
“You still talk when you get nervous.” His slightly crooked mouth doesn’t so much as tilt as he says this.
No, I don’t. Not anymore. Or maybe it’s just around him now. Or because…what happened to the man who kissed me breathless in the palace? I can’t even tell if he’s mentioning this with affection or irritation.
