The eru shifted on her feet.
“Yes, let’s go home.”
Anoor dashed the tears off her cheeks and picked up the reins.
—
“She knew the answers, Jond, like she’d been given them in advance, like I had given them to her.”
“So what?” Jond’s fingers danced across Sylah’s navel.
“So what?” Sylah pushed his hands away and sat up in the bed. “Loot managed to get the answers, he’s managed to play the game.”
“And?”
“His power is absolute.”
“Then why did he need you?”
Sylah’s eyes flickered left and right, her mouth parted in thought. Jond licked his own lips in remembrance of her taste.
She slumped.
“I don’t know.”
“Stop worrying about it.”
Jond leaned into the hollow crook of her neck and began kissing the sensitive skin that used to be protected by her hair.
“I think I’ll keep an eye on that girl Tanu. Find out what connection she has to Loot.” She leaned into his caress.
“The Sandstorm won’t like that,” he murmured into her skin.
“Well, don’t tell them, then.” Her neck muscles tensed, and he pulled away.
Jond inhaled. The air hissed between his teeth. “Sylah…”
She swung her legs out of bed and rested her elbows on her knees.
“I know you have to tell them…about me. I know they don’t trust me yet. But I’ve done everything they asked.”
“I’m working on it, it’s just tough.”
“I know, I killed—”
“It was an accident.”
She dropped her chin.
Jond reached for her hand. “I don’t tell them about…this.”
Her head snapped toward him, and for a second she saw the ghost of her braids fall over her face, reminding her of the family she no longer had. She closed her eyes to the memory, her tongue running along the gap where a joba seed should be. When she opened her eyes, Jond was watching her, assessing her.
She cleared her throat and spoke.
“I remember what it felt like…being part of something bigger. Something that carries you along like a grain of sand. You can’t fight it—you don’t want to—because alone you are just one grain. Together you are the desert.”
—