are all ‘One army, one nation.’” He repeats the Imperial Army mantra with a saccharine smile. “One big, happy family.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard….”
“What is it you’ve heard?” He pushes away from the bedpost and saunters toward me. “Why are you here, Enebish?”
His bluntness throws me off balance, and I grapple for an answer. I knew he’d ask these questions. And I know what I’m supposed to say. But nothing could have prepared me for the way his golden eyes pin me in place, like Orbai honing in on her prey.
“Y-you saved me from the Sky King and my sister,” I finally bumble. “You told me to find you. That you need me. I thought—”
“You thought I’d have mercy on any stray dog that wandered in off the street?”
“Yes? No. I don’t know—” I scrub my hand over my face.
Burning skies, Ghoa was right. I don’t even have to try to act weak and pathetic. Apparently, every last vestige of Enebish the Warrior is gone.
“Relax,” Temujin says again. “I’m just teasing you.” He ruffles my hair in a way that would be friendly if we were actually friends. But since we only just met, it feels almost condescending. Like I’m a clueless puppy chasing its own tail. “The Shoniin aren’t like the Sky King. We welcome all, regardless of their strength. Or past.”
I duck away from his hand. “You could have led with that.”
“I have a reputation to keep up. It’s exhausting, being the leader of a rebel gang. So many expectations …”
“You’re clearly crumbling beneath the pressure,” I jibe as I move away from the wall. “So this is the infamous Shoniin hideout?” I crinkle my nose and wave around the shabby room.
“What? You don’t like how I’ve decorated?”
I swipe my finger across the chest of drawers and hold it up, displaying a thick coating of dust. “I thought you have a reputation to keep up?”
“Only for the people I lie to. Those in my inner circle get the real picture, the whole truth. When people think you’re flashy and brazen, they’d never expect you to operate out of a run-down bedroom at the back of a tavern. It’s all about showing one thing, then serving something else. It seems you know a thing or two about that.” He traces three fingers down his face, in the same pattern as my traitor’s mark. “Terrifying on the outside, but soft as freshly carded wool beneath. Inkar told me you’re a natural with the children.”
I shrug. “They’re too excited about swinging their wooden sabers to pay attention to my scars.”
“Your scars aren’t the first thing I noticed either.”
“Liar.” I stare Temujin down, but he stares right back.
“I swear to the First Gods, I didn’t have a clue it was you in the zurig until we cut you down. I watched you for a while first, from the rooftop of the Sky Palace, to see if you were the type of person we’d want to recruit. You were so stoic, hanging there and quietly taking the pain. Enduring the ridicule. It was incredible. And when you prayed to the Lady of the Sky, I knew it was fate. She had guided me to you.”
“How do you know I prayed?”
“I know another believer when I see one.” He huffs down on the bed and pats the space beside him. I carefully ease down, trying to sit close enough to look like an eager recruit, but not too eager. Temujin smells of leather oil and tea soap. And this close, he’s so handsome, he’s hard to look at—like the vivid blue heart of a flame. I don’t even have to try to blush and look flustered.
“I’m going to be blunt and cut right to the chase,” he continues. “We could really use someone with your particular skill set….”
Of course. He wants to use me for my night spinning—like everyone else.
I let the enchanted expression wilt off my face and slowly bring my hand to the moonstone. “If you’re referring to my Kalima power, it’s impossible. Even if it weren’t, it’s too dangerous.”
“What if I told you there’s a way to ensure you maintain perfect control?”
“I’d say you’re mad.”
“Would you be willing to try?”
I stay silent for a moment so he thinks I’m actually considering it. But I will never spin the night for a deserter. Not even one who’s feeding starving refugees and training helpless children. A few good deeds don’t erase the bad. He has forsaken Ashkar. Worse—he is actively fighting against it.