I feel it in every fiber of my being. They wanted us to be victorious over Jerrod. They wanted his tyranny to end.
Maybe I’ll never know who released that arrow, but something tells me it was supposed to happen that way. Jerrod was supposed to die while his men watched.
Evil isn’t meant to win. Good is.
The instant Cenric and Everly separate, I dash towards her—my sister, my twin. When she sees me, her eyes fill with tears. As I envelop her in a tight embrace, she sobs against me.
“I thought,” she murmurs, her words muffled against my armor, “I’d never see you again.”
“I would’ve moved heaven and earth to bring you back,” I say, emotion swelling in my voice.
“Oh, Sol.” After a moment, she steps back, wiping away her tears with a trembling hand.
A smile blooms across my face, fueled by the Seer’s astonishing revelation. “You’re my sister,” I burst out, unable to hold back the excitement bubbling inside me. “My twin sister.”
Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open.
“Isn’t that incredible?Weare sisters.”
“You’re Estrid.” Her eyes tear up even more as she embraces me again. “Grandmother always believed you were alive. That’s why she kept searching for you.”
“I have a grandmother,” I say, my words soft as the reality sinks in. “And a mother.”
I have another family. A loving family—one that missed me and searched for me.
A smile tugs at Everly’s lips as she looks me up and down. “And soon, you’ll have a baby.”
I press my hand to my stomach, protected by the armor Hector had made for me. “Two of them.”
“Two?” Everly shakes her head as Cenric pulls her back to him.
I let her go, knowing she and her husband need this time together.
Then, I shift enough to search for Hector. It doesn’t take long to find him through the thick ash and dust, not when he’s walking toward me. He walks with purpose and determination, cutting through his warriors with his eyes fastened on me. And as the skies open and rain pours down on us, Hector pulls me into his arms.
I rise on my tiptoes, loop my arms around his neck, and bring his mouth to mine, kissing him in front of all his men, kissing him like a woman in love.
ChapterThirty-Seven
Beneath the wide limbs, of probably the only tree in Sharhavva, Hector meets with Jasce and the man with the long scar on his face. Jasce calls him The Widow Maker. The woman with red hair sits next to him, her eyes solemn, her hands folded in her lap.
I listen as Jasce and Hector agree to terms of peace and unity between their tribes. Like the pact with the Carnelians, Jasce will pay a tax to the Bloodstone and send his armies to fight alongside them, while he becomes the chieftain of his tribe.
As the men continue to discuss the details, I think about my childhood—all those times our village was attacked by Bloodstone warriors. Now, Hector is chieftain of the Bloodstone, and he’s working to unite the tribes, and I’m helping him.
I’m no longer just a Kyanite. I am Bloodstone too.
Some of the Kyanites would like to think they are light, but if they were, they wouldn’t have wanted to kill an innocent baby. Nor would they have put a mark on my life. They especially wouldn’t enslave people from the other tribes.
Those Kyanites have strayed from their sacred roots and allowed darkness to consume them. They glare down on the rest of the Tarrobane tribes. How pious they sit. How lofty, as if they are the kings of everyone.
In all their efforts to be the chosen tribe, they have permitted an infection to spread through their land. An infection that must be cleansed.
Maybe it won’t even take the Bloodstone tribe to obtain it. Maybe it will only take unity between the Kyanites and another. Perhaps through marriage?
As I look at the horizon, I see a cloud like the one that followed us after we freed the slaves. The high gods are here, watching, helping, approving. They orchestrated all of it—the prophecy, Mother’s death, the serpent mark, my need for vengeance, being kidnapped by Luc, and finally meeting Hector.
MyHector.
