Her body stiffened. “It’s not senseless,” she whispered.
“Let’s consider that. Returning to Relhok and throwing yourself at the feet of Cullan so that he might lift his kill order on girls? How is that any different from me sacrificing myself for you?”
She paused for a moment and turned her face in my direction, her expression startled before she masked it and continued walking, her boots biting into the ground with her ire. “It’s not the same. Not the same at all.”
“It is,” I insisted over ragged breaths, struggling to keep up. I swallowed, fighting for stamina, cursing this maddening weakness that sucked and pulled at me.
“Very well then,” she snapped. “If it’s the same, then you understand about necessary sacrifices. You should understand why I need to go to Relhok City. Why I have to stop Cullan.” She halted, and I tried not to sigh my relief. Her pace was killing me.
I flexed my fingers, willing sensation back into my hand . . . sensation other than searing agony. She faced me as though she could see me, her liquid dark eyes flitting over me unseeingly. It was eerie the way I always felt exposed around her. Maybe now more than ever. I had nothing left to hide. No secrets to keep from her. This was just me standing before her.
“Cullan,” she repeated. “You know. Your father.”
The accusation was clear. Apparently we would have this conversation now. I inhaled a pained breath. “Luna, let’s not—”
“Why not? It’s the truth. He’s a tyrant. Brutal. Evil.”
All truths I would rather not waste precious time discussing. “He’s no father to me—”
“Except he is your father. A convenient bit of truth you kept to yourself.” She nodded as though willing that bitter fact to sink in and take root.
I stared at her for a long moment, futile words welling up inside me that would mean nothing to her. The only thing she felt was betrayal. My betrayal. It was too raw. Nothing I said would change that. At least not yet. It would take time. Time I didn’t have. Wincing, I shifted my arm. I couldn’t move my fingers anymore.
“You left me, Luna. You ran from me so that you could go after Cullan,” I reminded her in a hoarse whisper, determined to make her remember, make her care again. Only then could I sway her from the path she had chosen for herself. “Do you have any idea what that did to me? Waking up and finding you gone?”
“Don’t do that. He’s your father. Don’t call him Cullan like he’s not.”
“Who my father is doesn’t erase what we have.”
“Had,” she cut in, her voice quiet. “Had, Fowler. We don’t have that anymore. It’s finished. There are more important things. Matters of the heart are immaterial. You taught me that. Remember? Everyone dies. No one lasts in this world, and it’s pointless growing attached to anyone.”
“Luna, I didn’t—”
She swung around and kept moving, her pace swift. I fell in next to her, holding my burning arm close to my side.
I nodded to the outcropping not far to the right of us. “Rocks ahead. Let’s rest.”
“We should keep going.”
“I need to rest.” I hated that I had to say the words. In all our time together, I usually forged our path. I never complained of tiredness or weakness. It stung my pride that I had to do it now.
She sent me a peculiar look, clearly thinking the same thing, too. “Very well.”
We made our way to the rocks. I clambered up the incline ahead of her, grunting cold gusts of breath. At the top, I noticed a crevice between two rocks. I reached for her hand, briefly grabbing hold of her fingers with my good hand before she pulled away. The rejection stung. She wouldn’t even let me have that much of her.
Her chin shot up and she shook mud-stiffened hair back from her pale face. “I can manage.”
Shrugging like it didn’t bother me, as though I didn’t feel her distance from me like a physical ache, I squeezed through the opening into the chilled space, relieved that it widened to a larger area. The area was wide enough for us both to stand with arms outstretched. I collapsed onto the cold stone, the chill at my back a welcome contrast to the fire in my arm.
She lowered herself down on the ground, keeping her distance and folding her hands on her bent knees. The closeness we’d had underground—that kiss—felt like a lifetime ago. Not forgotten, but buried deep with the dwellers and bones of the dead. I settled on my back and let my head drop back on the solid ground with a dull thud.
Now that we had escaped, my body let every pain, big and small, assert itself. I closed my eyes, not even caring that I slept on rigid stone. I ached—and not just my arm. My head throbbed, flushing with heat. My arm burned so much that I began to wonder if it wouldn’t feel better simply severed from my torso. I chuckled lightly at the morbid thought. There had been days when I thought death might be better, easier than this existence. Then I had met Luna and she convinced me that life could be more. That together we could have more. Now she had decided she had been wrong.
Luna’s voice burrowed past the growing fog of pain. “You can get me inside the capital, Fowler. You know the city. You have to know people there. Maybe you still have friends who—”
My laughter slipped out again, unbidden, and rusty as a forgotten plow blade in one of the fallow fields all across this land.
“Why do you continue to laugh at a time like this?” she demanded.
“It’s just that the only reason you want me around is to help you on your suicide mission—a mission that would bring me back to the place I swore never to return.”
“You can’t run away from this.”
I sobered, levity disappearing as I shook my head. “All I do is run. It’s the only thing I know.”
She nodded, understanding.
I added flatly, “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. You need to give up on this insane quest.”
“What do you mean even if you could? You’re saying you can’t. Be honest for a change. Tell me the truth. What you’re really saying is you won’t.”
I wished it were only that.
I took a slow breath, wondering when I should tell her that I might not be able to make it twenty yards, much less trek across the country to Relhok City.
She continued with a sneer, “He’s your father. They would fling open the gates for you. Throw you a grand party.”
Something twisted inside my chest at the way she said that. She thought less of me because of my blood. She thought less of me and she always would. “Don’t call him my father.” Even if he gave me life, he was no father to me. Nor was he any kind of husband to my mother. The man knew nothing of paternal bonds. Nothing of love or loyalty.
Moistening my dry lips, I tugged at my shirt, peeling it over my head and off my burning flesh with a wince. “Fact is, I’m not leaving this cave.” I balled up my shirt and wiped at my arm with the fabric. A hiss of pain escaped between my teeth as I attempted to wipe it clean.
She stilled, her arms wrapped around her knees. “What do you mean?”
“I’m asking you not to go.” I settled my gaze on her face, not above manipulating her with my grim reality. I always knew it was a matter of time before I died. It wasn’t as though I expected to live to a ripe old age. In this world, that wasn’t a possibility. “My dying wish, Luna. Will you deny me that?”