Alive, though. That was worth celebrating. A year of isolation with a violent madman had given me a new appreciation for living—if I could figure out how to do it.
I clinked water cans with Lorcan and drained what was left in mine.
The vista spread out below us almost made the climb worth it. Waterfalls sparkled in the distance. From here you can’t see the ravaged fields, or the ruined villages. Only a sea of bright green grasses that have cropped up to replace what once was agricultural abundance. You’d hardly know there’d been a war. Far off into the distance you can see the Three Sisters…
Which reminds me.
“I need to make the annual pilgrimage at some point this summer.”
Lorcan stiffened. “Last time, you nearly froze.”
“You remember that?” I asked pointedly, not looking at him.
He scowled. “I remember now. I didn’t for a while.” He pushed up from the ground in a fluid motion. “Come on. I’ll show you the way to the bunker.”
“I’ve been into Saskaya’s hidden lab before, Lorcan.”
He gave me an inscrutable glance. Might be annoyance. I almost hoped it was. My unease at being alone—truly alone—with him, was back. Arguing keeps an invisible wall between us, and I need him to stay on the other side of it. Lorcan betrayed me. Broke my heart, cheated, and lied about it. I can’t afford to let him get close again.
Assuming he’d want that. He says he wants to restore my trust in him, but what he really wants is the stupid crown. Using me—just like everyone does. Like he’s done from the moment we met. I should have heeded that warning voice.
My title and birthright are nothing but a curse.
I followed him into the broken Sun Temple—for one thing, he’s my only way to get back down. For another, he has the box with my father’s remains.
In the center of the Temple lay a large pile of rubble from a hole in the roof. The carved stone interior seemed relatively undamaged, apart from the loss of the Goddess Auralia’s arm.
“I should probably think about giving a speech for the Midsummer festival,” I mused, my voice echoing from the stone walls and what’s left of the ceiling.
“If you’re launching right back into tradition,” Lorcan said over his shoulder, bypassing a scattering of broken wood and slate, “you might want to hold festivities somewhere else.”
True enough.
“Probably at the castle.” My footfalls echoed on the stone. “For Ifran’s workers, at least.” As badly damaged as it is, The Walled City is rubble. If anything can be built this summer, it will be a testament to his dedication and skill. I can give his workers one measley speech on a high holiday.
I brushed past him and started down the stairs to the lower chamber of the Temple to the Hall of Ancestors. Lorcan’s quick, quiet steps caught up to me almost immediately, as though we haven’t just spent hours climbing a sheer rock face. I trudged on sore legs. My stomach growled. Today has involved a lot of physical exertion. He’s so fit that he’s hardly winded.
Halfway down the stairway, as the light from above dimmed, tiny lights embedded into the stone walls began to glow. The effect is similar to candlelight, powered by the supply of liquid energy in the secret laboratory at the opposite end of the Temple chamber. These lights don’t go out. Ever. It’s the eternal sun of the Goddess Auralia.
A light in the darkness.
I have never needed one so badly as I do now.
“I hope I’m not keeping you from plans back at the camp.” My tart insult echoed off the limestone. Lorcan’s step faltered. All right, that was unnecessary of me.You’re supposed to be the descendant of the goddess. Act like it, Zosh.
Yet I need to keep him at bay. It would be too easy to fall back in love with him—if I ever fell out of it.
Tonight, we will be very alone. More alone than while sharing a small apartment at the castle.
More than when we were at River Bend, where I learned of his betrayal.
When he didn’t respond to my goading, I added, “By tradition, the royal family spends the first night of internment in vigil inside the Hall of Ancestors. I mean to do so tonight.”
After tonight, and my final visit to the Sky Temple, I’m done with tradition. I’ll break them and make my own.
And then, Auralia’s line dies with me.
Tonight, I’ll bid farewell to history. Tomorrow, I start claiming my power. My crown. My throne. My country.
