Page 53 of All the Wandering Light
The fire demon moved to my side, emerging from some unseen place behind me. Hello, River.
River started. “What in the name of the spirits are you doing here?”
“Azar-at is with me,” I said. “And I can’t think of a better use for its power than blasting you back to the Nightwood.”
River stared at Azar-at. His gaze went from shock to amazement. Then, to my astonishment, he began to laugh—so hard he had to lean against the rock for support.
“I should have known you would convince him to help you,” he said, once he had caught his breath. “You’re nothing if not resourceful, Kamzin.”
“Azar-at isn’t difficult to convince,” I said grimly.
“Ah, but that’s not quite true.” River eyed the fire demon. “Is it, my friend? Azar-at only helps those he deems worthy of his attention.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to let him distract me. I pictured the clouds descending, swirling over that exposed crag, dragging River into the air. “Now, Azar-at.”
The fire demon whined low in its throat. Its glittering gaze was fixed on River.
I stared at it. “What are you waiting for? I said, now.”
Not right, Kamzin, the fire demon said. Not good. You forget my promise.
“What are you talking about?” My voice was shaking again, fury rearing back up. “You’re always so eager for me to use your magic.”
You made me promise, on Raksha. I do not forget promises. The fire demon settled back on its haunches, tail stroking the snow. You cannot use magic against friends.
I felt like screaming. “River is not a friend.”
“Don’t bother trying to make sense of it,” River said. “I gave up long ago. Fire demons follow their own laws.”
He turned the star over in his hands. Lusha was staring at me so hard her eyes could bore holes in my skin. I met her gaze. She reached into her chuba and drew out a rock.
Not a rock. The star.
The breath left my body. Lusha had somehow, in the few seconds before River appeared, snatched up a stone of similar size to the star, then pretended to drop it. Lusha moved to my side, limping. She was either a very convincing actor or was genuinely hurt. River paid her no heed. She wrapped her arm around me, as if to comfort me. Then she slipped the star into my pocket. I froze, my heart thudding in my ears.
River’s expression was distant. “The magics contained in fallen stars belong to neither witches nor shamans. But I should be able to sense something. Maybe you were right, Kamzin. Maybe Lusha is imagining things.”
My heart was in my throat. Lusha murmured something, but it was too low for me to hear. “Tem couldn’t sense anything either,” I said, my voice even.
River’s eyes swung to me, and instantly I knew I had made a mistake. River could read me too well. I kept my expression carefully blank, but it was too late—his eyes were narrowing, and he was turning to Lusha—
Who had drawn her bow and fired an obsidian arrow.
I let out a cry—of surprise, or fear, I didn’t know. River, who must have reacted to the sound of the arrow leaving the bow, had moved more quickly than I could follow. He pressed his hand against the arm of his chuba, then drew it back. There was no blood. The arrow had cut fabric, not skin.
Lusha nocked a second arrow, but a wave of shadow crashed at her feet and spilled up her body. She was flung back against the mountainside and pinned there.
River paced toward Lusha, his expression stormy. She stood immobile, trapped by shadow. She didn’t flinch, merely leveled him with a cold look.
“No!” I cried, surging to my feet. But River merely plucked the bow from her hand and turned back to me. He seemed to notice my expression.
“I wasn’t going to hurt her,” he said.
I stared at him. Given the tumult inside me, I hadn’t thought I was capable of surprise as well. “Why?”
“Why?” River looked puzzled, as if he had only just considered the question, and the answer was as much a mystery to him. When he spoke again, he sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. “She’s your sister.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said. “You’re capable of anything. You want to use the star to destroy the world.”
