Page 74 of All the Wandering Light

River’s voice was cold. Lusha didn’t flinch, but some of the wariness left her face.

“I don’t know what I believe,” she said. “But I know you saved Kamzin’s life. For that, I thank you.”

Now it was River’s turn to gaze at Lusha in disbelief.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said finally. “We’re not all like Esha.”

“I’m not convinced of that.” Lusha folded her arms. Her gaze, as she regarded him, was cold—but not fearful. With her imperious posture and disapproving frown, she didn’t seem out of place surrounded by such luxury, despite the fact that her chuba was torn, her boots muddied, and her hair disheveled. “I’m thanking you for what you did in the Ashes—no more, and no less.”

He turned to me. “I take it from your surprise at my survival that you haven’t had any more . . . visions.”

“No.” I felt that uncomfortable sense of displacement. “Have you?”

He smiled. I didn’t think I would ever get used to how quickly his moods shifted. “No. I’m glad it worked.”

“What?”

“Once I realized Azar-at was the cause of all this, I focused on closing my mind. I’ve done it before, when I didn’t wish to communicate with him. I wasn’t certain it would be effective for this.”

“That sounds useful.” How many times had I wished I could block the creature’s voice from my thoughts?

“I don’t think it severs our connection,” he said, glancing away from me. “I don’t know how to do that.”

I flushed, wondering again what he had seen when he had shared my thoughts. “Why are you here?”

“It’s simple. I can’t defeat Esha alone. So I will help the emperor do it. I know how Esha thinks, and I know what he’s capable of. The emperor sees me as his friend, and will listen to my advice. So for now, I’m here.”

“For now,” I repeated. “And that’s supposed to convince us to trust you?”

He shook his head slightly. “You use that word often. I’ve never asked you to trust me. But you can trust that I want Esha dead. He thinks himself a leader, but he destroys everything he touches. He’ll destroy his own people eventually, if he isn’t stopped.” His voice was eerily flat.

Lusha’s hand went to her pocket, where she had carried the star since our escape from the soldiers. “Then he still plans to attack the Three Cities.”

“I’m sure of it,” River said. “Nothing will dissuade him, especially now that the star is here.”

Lusha set her jaw. “We’re not giving you the star.”

River gazed at her. She glared back, wan but determined. Lusha knew as well as I did that if River wanted to take the star, he could. I remembered how easily he had overcome us in the Ashes.

“Fine,” he said. “You can hold on to it. There’s little danger that Esha will attack soon. I suspect they’re regrouping—the attacks on the villages have stopped.”

“Stopped?” I was weak with relief. Did that mean Azmiri was safe?

“The nearest villages have been sending daily reports,” River said. “Suddenly, it’s quiet—losing the star was a blow. Esha was already struggling. Some witches have fled rather than answer to him, and more will follow, if they decide that their emperor is weak. I know Esha—he’ll need time to come up with a new plot.”

River turned to me. “Where were you, anyway? I’ve had the guards on the lookout since my return yesterday. I was starting to worry that Esha had found you.”

I opened my mouth to reply—to tell River about Azar-at’s trickery, and our capture by the Fifth Army. Then I stopped, confused. After all that had happened, it was alarming how easily I found myself falling back into trusting him, into accepting the rightness of his presence. Yet we couldn’t trust River—could we?

I thought of the guards River had posted to watch for us and bring us safely to the palace. I thought of him saving my life in the Ashes, the odd expression he had worn when he had laid eyes on me again—as if he couldn’t quite believe I was real, but wanted to. His expression was similar now, his familiar, mismatched eyes holding nothing more sinister than curiosity.

Did trust have to be complete to be real? Was it possible to feel for someone only a glimmer of trust, an ember rather than a flame? I looked at Lusha. She shook her head slightly, raising her eyebrows in an expression that was a perfect mirror of what I felt. My palm tingled, a memory of the power that had briefly surged through his—my—hand. For a moment, I felt a strange sense of loss—I would never see the world through River’s eyes again.

Hesitantly, I described our journey from the forest, including our capture by the Fifth Army. River showed no reaction when I described the powers Tem had revealed. As I spoke, there came a slight sound. River’s gaze fixed on something behind me, and I realized the door had opened.

“Here he is,” said the guard. His hand rested firmly on Tem’s shoulder.

“Tem!” I surged forward, wrapping him in a hug. Distantly, I heard River dismiss the guard, the door closing. Tem seemed dazed.