The Half King

22

Before they returned to camp, there was one thing left to do.

“I want to experiment with my energy,” Cerise said. “Now, while Father Padron is gone.”

Kian nodded. “You won’t get another chance.”

“What about over there?” Daerick told her, pointing at a nearby sand melon patch. “You could try raising one from the ground. That seems easy enough.”

She didn’t know about easy , but a melon patch was a good place to start. She knelt on the ground in front of the thorny brush, studying one of the thin, exposed strips of rind peeking out from the dirt. Most of the melon was hidden underground. She couldn’t tell how heavy it was or if that even mattered, so she tried to imagine what a priest would do.

She focused hard on the melon, clenched her fists, and strained as if attempting to lift the gourd with her mind. The taste of metal filled her mouth. Power crackled across her flesh. It was working! She strained even harder. The rind shook. And then came a great boom , and she shielded her face as the melon exploded.

Behind her, Daerick screamed like a monkey, and Kian laughed in shock. She turned to find them being pelted by chunks of melon raining down from the sky.

“Well, it worked,” Kian said as he picked a bit of rind out of his hair. “You raised a melon.”

“All the way to the sky,” Daerick added while brushing debris from his tunic.

“Don’t be discouraged, my lady of the temple. All things require practice.” Kian winked. “Just don’t use me as your next test subject.”

“I second that,” Daerick said.

Cerise shook the juice from her arms. She hadn’t expected instant success, but as she glanced around for another melon, she realized how heavily she was breathing. “That drained me.” She pressed a sticky hand to her chest and felt her heart pound. “When I opened the spring this morning, I felt stronger than ever, but now I’m exhausted.”

“And rightly so,” Daerick said. “You dispatched your first death, didn’t you?”

“Oh.” She sat back and crossed her legs at the ankles. She hadn’t thought of it that way. “I suppose I did.”

“If there’s ever a fruit uprising,” Kian told her, “I’ll know who to send.”

His joke reminded her of Kian’s earlier claim that Father Padron had stopped fifty hearts from beating before breaking a sweat during the Solon rebellion. She hoped the story was exaggerated, because she couldn’t fathom such a thing. The simple act of destroying a melon had winded her. And what about the spiritual toll of taking so many lives? He had been so young then. Had the battle changed him? Made him colder than before? Had killing in the name of the throne set him on a path to kill in the name of the Order, too?

She shivered. She didn’t want to imagine him using his power against her. “I need to rest before I try again.”

“Then rest.” Kian jerked his thumb toward another sand melon patch. “Lord Calatris and I can harvest these the old-fashioned way. We can’t go back to camp empty-handed, or it’ll look suspicious.”

Daerick groaned. “The next time you invent a reason to get rid of Father Padron, choose an excuse that doesn’t involve manual labor.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Kian said, holding out his hand for the shovel. “Come on. I’ll dig. You retrieve.”

“I think not.” Daerick clutched his shovel and pointed at the thorny brambles. “I’ll dig, and you can tear up your arms pulling melons from the ground.”

“Need I remind you that I’m the king?”

“Need I remind you ,” Daerick said, “that your body restores itself at sunrise? The rest of us don’t have that luxury.”

“Luxury?” Kian repeated. “Spend one night in the shadows, and then we’ll talk about who has the more luxurious…”

Cerise cleared her throat to interrupt their bickering. She needed help with her magic, and she’d just thought of the perfect teacher. “I want to tell Nero the truth.”

Kian jerked his gaze to her.

“Before you argue,” she said, holding up a palm, “he already knows I have fire blood. He knew it before I did. And he has the same magic, so who better to train me? He showed me a place inside the mountain where time practically stands still. He could teach me everything I need to know before anyone at camp even noticed we were gone.”

Daerick slid a glance at Kian. “It’s not a bad idea.”

“I don’t trust him,” Kian said.

“Neither do I,” Daerick agreed. “We barely know him. But Nero isn’t Cerise’s biggest threat. You know who the real danger is.”

“Padron,” Kian spat.

“And if he sees what she can do…”

“Enough.” Kian released a long breath and looked to Cerise. “I don’t like it, but we don’t have much choice. You need to learn how to use your gift, or at least control it so you know how not to use it. If Nero can give you that education, then it would be foolish to refuse.”

She grinned at him. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he told her. “I meant what I said before; I don’t want your obedience.”

“Then thank you for seeing reason,” she amended.

Kian laughed dryly. “I’m not unreasonable, and to prove it, I suggest you start your lessons tonight.”

“But…” She wanted to spend the night with Kian. She’d come to depend on their time together, and she hated the thought of abandoning him in the darkness.

He gave her a tender smile that told her he understood. “I’ll miss your company, my lady of the temple. But I promise I’ll be all right. I’ve lost count of how many nights I spent alone in the dark. I’ve grown used to it.”

His bravery inspired her to make a promise of her own. “It won’t be like this forever. Soon you’ll spend all of your nights here with the rest of us.”

“I hope so,” he said.

She shook her head. Hope had nothing to do with it. “We’re going to find the Petros Blade. And then we’ll take it back to the palace and break the curse. I won’t stop until you’re restored. I’ll free you or die trying. I swear it.”

Kian’s smile faltered. He said nothing at first, and then he gave a slow, solemn nod and told her, “I believe you.”