Page 106 of While the Dark Remains
I see him kneeling in a pile of dead moths, and my heart twists. “I am weary of kings and princes, Saga. I am weary of all this.”
She presses her lips into a thin, hard line. “Don’t leave Vil in his misery. Tell him the truth.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you, Bryn. I understand about the mountain. You’ve been here too long, experienced too many terrible things. I get it. But Idon’tunderstand about Vil. And I’m trying very hard not to be angry with you about it.”
“I’m sorry.” My voice breaks. “Saga, I’m so sorry.”
She just shakes her head. “Don’t tell me. Tell Vil. I’m going to take a bath.” She steps past me and slips into the bathing chamber. I scramble up into the ceiling, curl into a tight ball, and let myself cry.
Ballast is asleep when I slip down into his room. I light a candle and he wakes instantly, jerking up in bed and scrambling for the eye patch on his bedside table. He ties it on quickly, but not before I glimpse the raw red emptiness of his eye socket.
He sits there on the edge of his bed, breathing quick, and I realize with a twist of horror that he thought I was his father.
I glance to the door that joins their rooms and gnaw on my lip. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t know when else to speak with you.”
He shakes his head. “You startled me, is all.” His voice is rough with sleep.
“I wanted to tell you—” I pause, take a breath. Vil and Saga would kill me if they knew I was here, ready to spill their secrets. But Ballast knows most of them already.
He looks at me steadily, waiting for me to go on.
“The Skaandans will strike soon. The army is almost here.”
“You mean to seize the mountain, depose my father, put your prince on the throne instead.”
“He’s not my prince.”
Ballast shrugs. “Do you think the Prism Master will allow that?”
“There’s the weapon.”
“Yes. The weapon.” He gets off the bed and paces to the window that looks out over the Sea of Bones. I follow. The stars are quiet tonight, like they’re waiting, too.
Ballast turns to me. “Whatisthe weapon, Brynja?”
I’m hyperaware of my pulse, thudding through the whole of my being. “I don’t know.”
His lips thin. “Why are you here? Why are you telling me this?”
“Because—because I’m worried about you.”
He laughs and folds his arms across his chest. “You’re such a liar.”
“I’m not lying. Your father will be executed, Ballast. And Vil says that—”
“That the same fate awaits me? No. I told you before that I will not allow the Skaandans to take Daeros.Iwill depose my father and rule in his stead. And the Skaandans will get the hell out of my country. Will you go with them, Brynja? Or will you lay all your cards on the table now, and join them with mine?”
I square my jaw. “My loyalty is with Vil and Saga. It has to be.”
“Why? What right does Skaanda have to Daeros?”
“What loyalty doyouhave to Daeros?” I retort.
“Do you think because I’m a half blood that I don’t belong anywhere? That I have no right to carve out a place for myself?”
“Of course not.”
