“You’ve always loved this ugly old thing,” Rozen had told her, “ever since the day we found it. You loved it so much you finally stopped screaming at me and let me sleep through the night. As long as you were holding it, you would sleep for hours.”
Eliana had giggled, blushing at the thought. She had traced her fingers across the necklace’s rough surface. “What does it mean?”
“It’s an etching of the Lightbringer. Do you remember that story?”
“He was a great king,” Eliana had whispered, eyes wide as she traced over the sweeping arcs of the horse’s wings and the blacked-out figure on its back. “And this… What was it called?”
Eliana had looked up at her mother, wrinkling her nose.
Rozen had laughed. “A godsbeast. Back when the world was very, very young, such creatures roamed the skies and the waters and the great, green earth. This one was called a—”
“Chavaile,” Eliana had answered, beaming. “I remember now.” She brought the necklace to her lips and kissed the horse on its nose. “That’s my favorite one.”
In Navi’s arms, Eliana shook her head. Grief lanced her through the heart. “I can’t. Not her. I…”
She remembered Linnet’s forlorn cry: Mama?
If she’d only known what would happen, she would have never gone hunting for the Wolf. She would have climbed into her mother’s bed and held her close, every night. She would have moved only to gut the people who dared try to steal Rozen away.
“All right.” Navi stroked her hair. “Tell me about Harkan, then.”
“Well. He wasn’t my only lover, but he was the best. Except for this woman Alys, who worked in the Brightwater red rooms. God, she made me black out a few times—”
“No, Eliana,” Navi chided gently. “Tell me something real.”
For a long time, Eliana didn’t speak. Instead, she let the rhythm of Navi’s fingers caressing her scalp coax her breathing slow and quiet.
“Why are you helping me?” Eliana asked at last.
“Because I have nightmares too,” Navi answered. “And I’m glad for the company.”
Eliana hesitated, then found Navi’s hand and gripped it tight.
“Something real,” she said. “Harkan dreamed of us all someday escaping to Astavar. He was going to teach me how to grow tomatoes and make me wear a straw hat.”
Navi’s laughter shocked Eliana into a smile. She squeezed Navi’s fingers, closed her eyes, and spoke of Harkan until sleep claimed them.
? ? ?
Morning came. They’d moved to Navi’s bed during the night, and though at first Eliana lay in the soft tangle of Navi’s sleepy limbs with a feeling of rare and utter contentment, that did not last long.
All too soon she remembered: There is still a war. Astavar still may fall. Mother is still missing. And I…
She slipped out of bed, glanced once more at Navi’s still form, then the room.
I am still…whatever I am. Angel? Human? Marque?
Monster?
A dark pocket opened inside her, all doubt and meanness, slowly pushing away the quiet peace the night had brought. She made for the kitchen. She would eat, she decided, and stretch, then find Simon and demand they spend the morning sparring.
Storming down the dimly lit corridor, she grinned to imagine her fists slamming into Simon’s chest. He’d give her a good knock or two, but she’d bounce back. He would dodge her blades; she’d catch him on the arm, make him curse her—
Eliana rounded a corner and ran into Camille.
The woman scowled in greeting. “Dread.”
Eliana pushed past her. “Camille. I was just—”
But Camille stopped her, hand on her wrist.
Eliana’s head snapped around to glare at her. “Unhand me at once.”
“Or what?” Camille looked her up and down with a sneer. “You’ll kill me, as you’ve killed so many others?”
Eliana reached for a cutting reply and found none. Sudden exhaustion stretched from her shoulders to her toes; the previous night’s peace bled out with her breathing.
“I’ve no desire to kill you,” she said at last, dully.
Camille watched her through narrowed eyes. “Where’s your brother?”
“Sleeping.”
“Why aren’t you?”
Eliana shrugged. “Bad dreams.”
After a long moment, Camille released her. “I thought you’d strike me, for touching you.”
“There are others I’d prefer to strike more.”