told you, I’m still that same selfish girl who climbed out windows and hotwired tractors.”
“Snowflake—”
“The road might have changed my mind about some things, Leni, but it hasn’t turned me into a martyr. I saved Kyn because I wanted to. Because I couldn’t imagine losing him.”
I turn to face Kyn now, my chest so full of his emotions I don’t understand how it could possibly be this light.
“Even before the mines, there was something, I don’t know, something I would have fought hard to keep hold of.” I do my best to ignore the smirk on Mars’s face. “I’m glad you’re alive—you can’t imagine how glad—but I did it for myself. Because I was afraid of what I’d lose if you were gone.”
“What the hell happened in those Shiv caves?” Mars asks.
Kyn shoves him sideways and steps closer. “It’s OK for it to be both, Sylvi. Flux, I’m elated you get something out of this. If you didn’t, you might . . .” His eyes trail away, over the ice.
“I might leave?”
He turns his face to mine and smiles. “And then where would I be?”
“I shouldn’t have acted like this was all your fault,” Lenore says. “I abandoned the tavern because I couldn’t stand watching the rebellion from afar. Once Mystra was gone, and then Drypp, and you out on the road, the tavern was nothing to me. Just an obligation. But I didn’t think what my leaving would do for you and the garage. And for that I owe you an apology.”
I swallow down the anguish of it all, because the truth is: “It’s done. By now, the Rangers have taken possession of both. Soon they’ll hand everything over to the Majority.”
“I’m sorry, Sylvi. I really am.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, thinking of Crysel and the snowmobile, of Jymy Leff. “The Majority knows what I am now, and they think they can use me for their purposes. I just wish I’d seen value in the rebellion when you did. You tried to tell me.”
She smiles, but it’s sad and small. “You had another voice to contend with. But do you see it now, Sylvi? That the Majority is an enemy worth fighting?”
“I suppose that’s all I see. But how that happens . . .”
Lenore throws her arms around my neck and squeezes. “You are how that happens. Didn’t Mars tell you?”
Winter growls and the bridge shudders overhead. I pull away from Lenore, ready to fight, but it’s just bluster.
“Fear not, Miss Quine,” Mars says, offering his arm to Lenore. “If Winter’s planning to destroy you—and I would expect nothing less—she’ll wait until she has something to barter with. Just as she did with Maree Vale.”
Mars leads Lenore out into the storm. Kyn and I follow, and with a word that leaves a blister on my tongue and kol dust in the corner of my mouth, every drop of falling rain freezes in place.
“Ah!” Mars says, pulling up, flicking a raindrop from the sky. “And what if we did . . . this.”
I don’t see his mouth form the words, but overhead a gust of wind shifts the clouds, and, there, the sun! Shimmering down on the Desolation. The raindrops catch its light, a million prisms reflecting Sola’s radiance. I can’t help but think of Hyla.
“Is there no good that can come from suffering?” she’d asked.
I wish I had an answer, but the question doesn’t infuriate me as it used to, and I suppose that’s something.
Mars and Lenore march on, flicking raindrops from the sky as they go, sending splashes of color skittering across the ice.
“May I?” Kyn asks, reaching out, his eyes on my hand. My heart fires and then his, and suddenly they’re off, racing each other for some undetermined prize.
It’s everything that’s ever terrified me. I’m utterly exposed with Kyn, and retreat isn’t possible. My darkest memories, my worst mistakes—all of it is his to examine at will. To doubt and sort through if he chose. To live with. And still he stands here with me. He asks to hold my hand.
I slip my fingers into his, twisting them, locking us together as tightly as I’m able.
“I’m sorry I lied to you about the haul,” he says.
“Your gut’s been apologizing for hours. It’s OK.”
“It’s not OK.”
“No,” I say, meeting his gaze. “But I’m guessing it’s the only time you’ll get away with lying to me, so I’ll let it slide.”
“That’s terrifying. But thank you. You might have chosen to save me at the mines, but you