“Anita…”
I stopped, huffing out a breath of air through my nose. “What?” Another lecture on my behavior? Another new rule to stifle my freedoms so I don’t become too much to handle?
A breeze sifted through the grass. “I’m sorry.”
My eyes traced up the grey stones of the castle. Even as the tension in my shoulders eased, that new weight settled back over my heart. “You’re just saying that because you know I’m pissed off.”
“No, I’m sayin’ it because I mean it. I wouldn’t otherwise.”
I turned back; his dark eyes caught onto mine and held, unblinking. That usual merry twinkle was gone, replaced by a shadow of sadness. There was nothing in that gaze that suggested anything less than the truth.
He would never use it.
Rishka’s words echoed through my mind. Had she been right to think that? She’d known Zi for much longer than me, but it was hard to ignore that resolve, that fury, in his eyes as he angled himself to face me. He knew I could take him out with minimal effort—and still, he was more than ready for a fight.
Perhaps we were wrong to assume he could never wield Antyrec.
I released another breath and glanced away. “But you meant it last night, too. Didn’t you?”
The memory of it flashes behind his eyes. “Yes.”
I nodded. After six years, I was finally getting used to blunt honesty. No more mind-games; no more secrets. Rishka and Zi were good at that. Even though they came from a background full of them.
In fact, there was still much about their past I didn’t know. I once thought I had pieced things together enough—a heavy glance here, a knowing smile there; the way they held each other as they said goodbye. But the details were something I had never bothered to ask about.
Maybe it was because I didn’t want to know.
Until now.
“Do you love her?”
Zi stiffened. Something new rippled through his expression—something I couldn’t quite name, and then it was gone again.
His shoulders rose in a light shrug. “She’s my friend.”
My eyes narrowed. That’S NOT AN ANswer.
I kept my voice steady. “But do you love her?”
He held my gaze again. That shadow of sadness had passed on; what remained was wariness. “As much as one friend loves another.”
THAT’S STILL NOT AN ANSWER. The thought popped and gurgled like boiling tar from the back of my mind. It seemed I had found a limit to Zi’s blunt honesty after all.
His gaze morphed back into the typical concern; he stepped forward. “Anita…” he said. A hand raised, as if to squeeze my shoulder, then lowered again. “Missy…” His mouth set in a firm line. “Don’t be alone.”
I blinked at him. Don’t be alone. That was one of the first things I ever said to him. It had been a nonsensical slip of the tongue; something that blurted from my mouth after my gift of Farseeing showed me the image of him wandering toward an eternal, empty horizon. I couldn’t bear the thought of it at the time—that even a complete stranger should ever be so lonely.
As lonely as me.
The fight seeped out of my bones and I sagged forward; Zi’s shoulder was already there for me to rest my head on. His arms, warm from the sunlight, steadied me.
“Grass,” Zi said.
I sucked in a breath. “Green.”
“Growth.”
“Flowers.”
“Beauty.”
I closed my eyes, noting the low arc of a bird as it twittered over our heads. “Life.”
He gave me a gentle squeeze. “There, now,” he said. “That sounds all right, then.”
He pulled away from me, and I was blessed with that old smile: the one that said everything was going to be okay. And, for a moment, I let myself believe it.
“Come on, then,” he said. “Let’s get some food in our bellies, and we can take a long walk. Aye?”
Mechanically, I turned and fell into step with him as we walked back through the arch.
