he shook his head. “The Destroyer said that only he could bear the burden of what must be done. I recognize myself in that. And I am certain that what I must do is right, but uncertain that you will forgive me for it. So perhaps I am not so right after all.”
“It is not the same,” said Lizzan fiercely. “You will sink Koth, but you will not slaughter the people who live there. That is all the difference.”
Tension gripped his every muscle. “You know what I must do?”
“I do. Though I don’t know why. But Aerax”—she flicked a bit of water into his face—“you suggested to your uncle an evacuation? Pfft. You, who do not care for anything that happens in the royal court, involve yourself enough to suggest that to him? Obviously you only hoped to move people off the island so they would not be killed when you sink it.”
Never had his heart seemed so near to bursting with emotion. Already she had guessed. And still she loved him. “You would not stop me? For only you could.”
“I trust your heart and your reason. But as you have eased my burden, so I would always share yours.”
Aerax was silent but only because he could not immediately speak. So this was to be their marriage. Always she had accepted him. Had spoken his name, had seen him. And still she saw him. Still she accepted him and trusted him. Even though he’d kept so much from her and it had hurt her so badly.
“You are the finest of all things, Lizzan,” he told her in a raw voice.
“That is you,” she said, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “But I will let you believe it is me.”
He breathed out a laugh, sliding down the length of the tub until his head rested against her shoulder and he could better see her face. “Do you want to hear the truth of Varrin and Koth? You may not wish to. For when you know, it will burden your heart.”
“Do I choose truth or comfort?” Indecision warred over her expression before she presented to him that stubborn jut of her chin. “I will hear it. Is all of the legend a lie?”
“Not all. Varrin labored in the stables and the mines and the great hall, and learned to use magic. And as the world froze, he found Rani and spoke to her about uncovering Enam’s eye. He forged her new fingers and loved her—but there the difference begins, because that love was either not returned or not accepted. Her duty stood between them, so Rani told him she must leave. But Varrin wouldn’t let her go.”
Lizzan frowned. “How did he stop her?”
“In gratitude for saving the world, she’d given to him Nemek’s braid, and he used it to tie her dragon to the mountain.”
Her chest lifted on a sharp breath. “The same way that the dragon in the monastery was tied? Was that chain also made of Nemek’s hair?”
“I expect so.”
“That is why you said we must free the dragon?”
“And because it ought to be freed.”
“Is it the same braid as Varrin’s?”
He shook his head. “Though perhaps Varrin took the idea from those who built the monastery, or the Radrehi took the idea from him. They both lived in the same ancient times.”
Nodding, Lizzan held him ever tighter. “And then?”
“Silver-fingered Rani begged of him to release her dragon, because all the while she was on Koth, people were dying—but they were not flown into the comfort of Temra’s arms. And finally Varrin did, but only because she promised to return to him.”
“But she didn’t return,” Lizzan said with certainty. “She wouldn’t have. He’d shown to her who he was.”
“She didn’t,” Aerax confirmed. “Varrin vowed that one day she would return to him, and tied the braid as a belt so that he would not age or die. He spent a thousand generations learning magic, ruling Koth, and building the crystal palace. And he was not true to Rani, as is said, and didn’t beget heirs directly from his loins. He took many women to his bed and they bore his children.”
Lizzan nodded. “No one of sense believed that part, anyway.”
Then most of Koth had no sense. But Aerax only said, “All the while, Rani only returned to Koth to collect the souls of the dead, and his jealousy grew that she never returned for him.”
“He sounds a true maggoty measle.”
So he was. “Finally he prayed to Nemek to