We Hunt the Flame (Sands of Arawiya 1)
Zafira met his eyes as the cold clouded between them. “At whatever cost it takes. I owe the world this much, don’t I? I owe it to the world to try.”
“You owe the world nothing. Do you even know where the letter came from? Do you really think magic can be restored with a book?”
Something flickered in his eyes when she didn’t respond.
Silence stretched between them until he sighed. “Yaa, Zafira. Will you go, then? Alone?”
“I think so,” she said, but felt the need to say more. “How far can we run before the Arz reaches us? Running is not a life.”
More silence, in which Deen looked sad, terribly so. She reached for his hand and curled her pinkie around his, but his eyes strayed to her lips and she had to remind herself that he was no longer the boy who cared for her like a sister. That she was no longer a little girl. That he had just asked for her hand in marriage.
Such closeness didn’t bode well.
As if hearing her thoughts, he tucked the same wayward strands of hair behind her ear again, admiration in his gleaming eyes, and he leaned closer, barely. Zafira found herself running her tongue over her cold lips. The golden curls at his forehead begged to be touched, but her eyes dropped to the fullness of his mouth.
“Zafira,” he whispered.
Marry me. Her daama brain started working again. She took a step back, the words from the letter suffocating her breath.
“Don’t,” she said quietly, a quake in her voice. The moon was bright enough that she could see desire darkening his eyes.
And the House of Selah, imposing behind him.
Something ached in her heart, but she steeled the shards in her chest and turned away.
CHAPTER 10
With every step of Sukkar’s hooves, Zafira found it harder to think. If she was going, she had to decide now. If she was going, every passing moment took her closer to the quest. To Sharr. To leaving her village.
She slid from Sukkar’s back with a heavy exhale.
Deen followed close behind on his own horse, Lemun. It had seemed like a peace offering at first, inviting him to spend the rest of the night in her house instead of at his friend’s. But now, with him here, all she could do was worry. She had started more than one conversation on the short ride home, but each exchange had dwindled to an uneasy silence with no more than a few words from him.
Meager light illuminated the sloshy alley between her house and that of the Ra’ads, which led to their rickety stable. Zafira trailed her gloved fingers across the crack in her kitchen window, where a trio of potted herbs sat wilted and browned, despite Lana’s fervent efforts. Like Demenhur, the caliphate that once grew Arawiya’s cures.
It could grow them again. She released a breath and disappeared into the stable. Inside, Deen lit two lanterns and settled Lemun beside Sukkar. Zafira brushed a hand down her horse’s neck, and Sukkar nudged her with a small, concerned snort.
A warning she didn’t heed.
She thought she saw a flicker of movement to her left, and she instinctively checked to make sure her hood shrouded her face. Discomfort thickened her blood, slowed her mind.
A flash of silver stirred dread into her stomach.
“Peace unto you, Huntress.”
Deen drew a sharp breath in the sudden stillness. She knew that voice and the lilt of that word. Huntress. She turned.
The stable doors hadn’t opened to let anyone in, but why use doors when one could materialize as one wished? Something dark hummed against Zafira’s skin, and Deen grabbed her hand. Sukkar and Lemun scrambled back against the wall, snorting in panic.
The woman’s cloak shimmered like liquid metal, and only now, free from the fluttering curtain of snow, did Zafira realize her youth.
Skies. She wasn’t an illusion. She really had stood before the Arz and murmured those cryptic words. She really had placed the letter in Zafira’s satchel.
Why is she here? Zafira lifted her chin. She was not going to cower.
Sukkar and Lemun continued to struggle in fear. Deen tried to soothe them with a distracted hand, but his apprehension only made their protests increase. The woman flicked her wrist, and the very air wavered before the horses quieted.
No.