about me.”
“Don’t get him started.” Temujin waves Chanar and the other Shoniin back. “He’ll never shut up.” Then he steps closer to me and lowers his voice. “Stop making a scene. I promised to free Serik from the prison wagon. Which I did. I said nothing about letting him roam freely here.”
“That was implied!” I toss my hands into the air. What I really want to do is smack the virtuous expression off Temujin’s face. “Why would you free him from one prison only to put him in another?”
“To ensure you uphold your end of our bargain.”
Serik stops ranting and looks at me. “What bargain?”
“I gave you my word,” I grind out, eyes fixed on Temujin. “That should be enough.”
“Should is fickle, isn’t it?” Temujin says darkly. “I should be able to wear these tribal rings in my ears. I should be free to return to Verdenet to check on my family. I should be believed when I tell my superior officers I didn’t desert my regiment, but unfortunately, nothing in life is ever as it should be.”
“But—”
“Put yourself in my position. You’ve made it abundantly clear you don’t trust me, so it shouldn’t come as a shock that I don’t trust you, either. I promise no harm will come to Serik, but he must stay here until you make good on your promise.” Temujin yanks Serik closer to the shack. This time, Serik doesn’t fight. He allows Temujin to drag him along like a limp sack of grain.
“What did you promise him, Enebish?” Serik’s voice is quiet, ragged.
“Can I at least speak with him in private?” I ask Temujin.
He hesitates but eventually nods. “I suppose that’s fine. Just let me get him situated.”
Temujin and Serik disappear, and I pace outside the door, too furious to feel the twinge in my leg as I stomp from one end of the shack to the other. The monster scrapes and roars in my gut, and I laugh bitterly because the one time I actually want to set it free, there’s not a single ribbon of darkness to call.
After an eternity, Temujin reemerges alone. “You have ten minutes.”
I shoulder past him. “How generous.”
“Would you do anything differently?” he fires back.
I grumble, which is the closest I’ll ever come to agreeing with him. Then I push through the door and slam it behind me.
The shack is cluttered with unused sleeping rolls and satchels and gray Shoniin tunics. Everything is coated in a fine layer of dust, other than the sliding boot prints Serik left across the floor. I follow them around an enormous pile of mismatched leather armor and find him in what can only be described as a cage. The back half of the room has been quartered off with thick wooden bars that stretch from floor to ceiling. Serik stands behind them, cursing under his breath as he bangs on the rungs, checking for weak points.
“At least it’s not Gazar.” I force a brittle laugh.
Serik’s head snaps up. “Gazar would be preferable. What is this place? What are you doing here? And what did you promise that deserter scum?”
“I don’t even know where to begin.” I slouch against the bars and let my legs slide out from under me, until I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor. Serik does the same on the other side of the bars. Our arms briefly touch through the gaps, and the frayed edge of his sleeve tickles my wrist. The familiar scent of pine ink and parchment envelops me, and I have a sudden urge to reach for his hand. Needing to be closer so he can flash me his moon-eyed smile and tell me everything is going to be fine.
“I knew better than to trust Temujin,” I say after a full minute of quiet. “But it’s not like I had options. You were bound for Gazar, and this was the only way I could think to save you.”
“What did you promise him?” Serik asks, gentler this time.
I swirl my finger through the dust on the floor. “What do you think? What has everyone always used me for?”
“But that isn’t even possible….”
“It is now.” I turn to face him and tap the angry red wound at my throat.
I expect Serik to cringe at the meaty mess, but his lips flatten and he scrambles back to his feet. “I’m going to kill Temujin—”
“Stop shouting. He didn’t cut it out. I did.”
His hands slowly drop back to his sides. “Why? I never believed you needed that stupid rock, but