Jond looked tired, his eyes a little more sunken, his beard longer than she had seen it for some time.
“Tell me.” Sylah wanted to know what Anoor was experiencing.
“Small, so small I couldn’t lie down. So dark I lost the sense of where I stopped and the limestone began. Then there was the thirst, the hunger…then the voices.”
He rolled onto his back, breaking eye contact with Sylah.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Sylah.”
They lay there in silence until Jond reached out and intertwined his hands with hers.
“Thank you for coming to visit me,” Jond said.
“I have to go, Jond.” Sylah didn’t want to miss Anoor’s return. She pulled her hand away.
“Gorn has you busy?”
“Yes, very.”
He nodded and leaned in for a parting kiss, his grin back.
His lips were comforting, and Sylah savored his desire for her as his teeth nipped her and the kiss deepened. The safety of his arms wrapped around her. Strong and protective like the walls of the Sanctuary, of the home she had grown up in, with him by her side. An errant thought crossed her mind: was this what it was like to be trapped within those four walls of the cell?
She broke off the kiss, the truth of her thoughts striking her dumb.
“What is it?” Jond asked.
“Nothing,” she said, sitting up.
He smiled, his eyes taking her in.
“I wish I could read your mind.”
Sylah snorted. “No you don’t.”
“I do, I wish I could delve into your memories and live through the last six years with you. I hate that time separated us.”
Sylah looked at him, and for the first time saw that time wasn’t all that separated them. After the massacre at the Sanctuary, Jond had healed his wounds and gone on to be trained by a new Sandstorm, more ruthless than the last, vowing to eliminate all Embers from the empire. Sylah had turned her anger toward herself and sought feeling through joba seeds and the violence of the Ring. Both on paths of destruction, Sylah inward, Jond outward.
But these differences were differences.
“Sylah?”
She thought of Uka’s journal and how she still hadn’t told Jond. What was stopping her? She was busy, that was all; once the stealth trial was over she’d deliver the journal to Jond.
“I…I have to go, Jond.”
He could see it in her eyes, the resolution of their love. He dropped his hand from the side of her face and pushed himself back on the bed, his expression cloaked in exhaustion.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.
Sylah nodded but didn’t speak.
—
Sylah didn’t return to the Keep straightaway. She tried once more to look for Hassa in the Dredge, though she was propelled by more than just the questions about the Ending Fire. She needed Hassa to help her lace the officers’ food and drink for Anoor’s stealth trial. Even Turin hadn’t seen Hassa for days.When the sun set, Sylah headed back to the Keep.
The worry for Hassa merged with her concern for Anoor, and Sylah found herself rolling the joba seed in her pocket until she returned to the Keep. After checking the chambers to see if there was any word from Anoor, Sylah went to the kitchens for dinner.