Page 55 of War Queen
He softened, and his grip on her arm relaxed. But he didn’t release her. He only pulled her closer. “Salara,” he said softly. “He’s gone. And whatever you think you see, it’s not real. Do you understand?”
No. Itwasreal. It was very real.
He caught her chin and forced her to look at him. “It’s not the Bear.”
She yielded, nodding. He squeezed her arm, as much of a consolation she would get from the Destroyer, and he left her to the quiet of the afternoon.
Norah sank to the stone floor beside the fireplace and wiped the tears from her face. No fire burned inside, but the small shards of glass lay in the ash at the bottom.
If this was a trick, who would do such a thing? Who could? They’d have to possess the power of a traveler, or something like it.
But…
Alexanderdidhave power. Nothing she could define, or explain; Alexander hadn’t understood it himself. But he hadsomething. The Wild hadn’t been able to see him. The Wild sisters hadn’t been able to enter his mind. He was strong, Naavi had told Norah—strong enough that his shield had covered them all while they escaped.
Was he strong enough to deny death?
She needed to see him again. She needed to ask him. But what remained of the blood had soaked into the logs and ash.
All but one drop, which had splattered on the metal andirons.
Her breath came faster, and her hand shook as she ran her forefinger up the iron and scooped the last of the blood. Then she curled it in her palm, closed her eyes, and waited, praying it was enough.
She imagined herself sitting on the bench in the garden in the light of the sun and waited for him to return.
And he did.
She didn’t turn when she felt his presence. She didn’t look; she didn’t want to drive him away again. But she knew he was there.
Alexander.
He sat down beside her.
“Is it your power that allows you to come to me?” she asked, finally looking at him. “The same power that kept the Wild from entering your mind, kept them from seeing you?”
His eyes flashed with surprise, yet he still didn’t speak. But he could hear her. And understand her.
“How do you come through the blood? Are you a traveler?”
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. Was it the hint of a smile? Was she right?
“How did you get the vial to me?”
He leaned back against the bench. She wasn’t sure whether he didn’t want to give her an answer or just didn’t have one for her. Was she pressing him too much?
“Soren tells me this is a trick.” But her eyes ran over every detail of his face, his body. Everything about him was just as she knew him to be. Exactly. An impossible trick, surely.
His hands lay still in his lap. Her eye snagged on his wrist and a small bracelet of tiny shells. She sucked in a breath. It was the bracelet she’d woven for him so long ago. No one else would have known about it—except Alexander.
This couldn’t be a trick, but how was he here? And why?
“Are you here because I haven’t sent you to the gods?” she whispered. “Do you want to go?”
His lips formed, as if to speak, but he remained silent. Then he gave a slow, faint shake of his head.
Her heart leapt. An answer from him. Finally. It was the bare minimum of communication, but she’d take it. She forced her breath calm. “I… I didn’t know what you would have wanted. I feared I’d trapped you.” She stopped. Her eyes welled. Why was this making her so emotional? “But this is the last time I can bring you back. I don’t have any more blood.”
His brows drew together, and the garden fell into nothingness around them. She felt unsteady as he pulled forward her memories in front of them and reeled through to the one of Soren throwing the vial into the fireplace. His ability to pull it so easily surprised her. How much freedom did he have of her mind? What else was he able to do?
