Page 29 of The Horde King of Shadow

“Used to grow?” she asked, catching my misstep. “They don’t now?”

My jaw tightened.

“Is that what you dreamed?” I asked. “Is that what you saw?”

Our faces were close. I could see golden strands in her very human eyes.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Where?”

“How would I know that?” she said. “Besides, it wasn’t so much a location as a realization. I was being shown. I’ve seen the trees before though. At least…I think I have.”

“Thethalaratree,” I told her, stilling. “You’ve seen it in Dakkar?”

“If you call my homeland Dakkar, I wonder what you call the entirety of this planet.”

“Easy. Thikana,” I replied. “And our nation is Karak.”

She sighed. “We call ourplanetDakkar. You call it Thikana. Who is right?”

“Does it matter?” I wondered. “It might only matter to off-worlders.”

“You’ve kept to your side of the world and we’ve kept to ours,” she said. “But no longer. We can speak the same language.We seek the same thing. And right now, I can touch your skin and feel that connection with you when before it hadn’t been possible.”

My heart jolted when her fingers pressed to my inner wrist. I hissed out a short, surprised breath, finding the touch maddeningly sensual. Her voice was husky and soft. Mesmerizing.

“So when our two nations collide, when our two cultures become intertwined, what would we call our planet then?”

I met her quizzical gaze.

“Thikana,” I answered finally.

She chuckled, the sound beautiful and musical. I didn’t join her, however, and her laugh slowly died.

“I see,” she said, but her tone struck me as sad when she saw I was serious. “No room for negotiation with you?”

“History will tell you,aralye,” I said, spreading cool salve over her cleaned palm, the jar clinking when I replaced the cap, “that the dominant race creates legacy.”

“You are a dominant race because of your Elthika,” she pointed out.

“And why do you think the planet is called Thikana, then? And not Karak?” I questioned.

Her lips pressed together.

“No Karag will ever deny the part the Elthika have played in our good fortune,” I told her. I tipped up her chin so she met my eyes. “But no other race has bonded with the Elthika like the Karag have. No other race hasdaredto try. Does that not deserve your respect, now that you have been on the back of Zaridan? Now that you have seen her capabilities firsthand and felt the humbling awe of your own fear entwined with her might?”

“Are you fearful every time you fly with her, then?” she asked. Clever girl. “Even after all this time?”

“Of course I am,” I said. Surprise flitted over her face, as if struck that I’d admit to it. What she didn’t understand was thatallriders would. “If you are not, you do not respect your Elthika. But you will learn that concept in time. Sarroth produces more riders for the Karag than any other of our nations. If you are to be the Sarrothian queen, you will learn that fear better than most. Your people will expect it of you…and they will never accept you otherwise.”

A soft exhale escaped her.

Tonight had proven what I’d needed to know. Tonight had proven why I’d trusted my instinct with Klara, why I’d made a split decision the moment I’d seen her scar—the bonding mark of my own Elthika, meant for me to see.

Tonight I’d woken in a strange state from a dead sleep, feeling a pressure at the base of my neck. I didn’t know how to explain it, but Iknewit was Zaridan’s call, though I’d never felt anything like it before. That ability—that bond with an Elthika—had been long lost with the diminishing power of the heartstones. It might not be until the next generation, possibly even two, where riders would feel that connection again…and that was only if we were able to find more heartstones.

But I’d felt it tonight. I’d felt Zaridan’s restlessness, and it had driven me immediately from bed, sensing that something was wrong.

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