Page 95 of The Blood Traitor

“You’ll never be able to move forward until you conquer the past,” Zofia said softly. “One way or another, you’ll have to face him eventually.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t be afraid to share your heart, dear one. Only then will you be able to truly heal.” Quieter, she added. “Bothof you.”

The words made Kiva’s pulse skitter, but her fear faded as the room began to spin around her, the fiery candlewicks smudged into flaming lines. Some part of her knew she should be concerned, but instead she fought to recall why she was there, the memory finally coming to her, indistinct and hazy.

“You owe me a ring,” Kiva slurred, aware she had very little time before the angeldust stole what was left of her wits. She could already feel the dreamlike state taking hold, a relaxed, euphoric sensation liquifying her mind and body.

Zofia reached across the table and took Kiva’s hand, sliding Sarana’s ring down her finger for safekeeping.

Kiva stared at the topaz, mesmerized by how it sparkled in the candlelight, before her rapidly declining mind remembered that her friends were waiting. She stood — and then stumbled three steps before managing to stay upright. A giggle left her, but she slapped a hand over her mouth, knowing she had to act normal, that no one couldknow.If they learned she’d willingly chosen to take the angeldust, they’d want to knowwhy.And they wouldn’t understand. None of them would.

“You and your guard can see yourselves out,” Zofia said, not moving from her seat. “I wish you all the best, Kiva Corentine. Your future is as bright as the stars.”

What a nice thing to say,Kiva thought, staggering to the door, all of the animosity she’d felt toward the Mystican having been swept away by the angeldust. She only just remembered to drop her drug-addled smile before she stepped back into the smoky room, prepared to tell the others of her success.

But only Naari was there.

Kiva’s euphoria dimmed, before the angeldust pulled her under more fully. It didn’t matter that her friends were gone. It wasgoodthey were gone, since it meant they wouldn’t try to question her. But then she saw the look on Naari’s face, and a hint of unease managed to slip through her deepening haze.

“Did you get the ring?” the guard asked.

Knowing her words would come out slurred, Kiva held up her hand in answer.

Naari seemed relieved, but her features remained tense. “Don’t panic, but Tipp snuck off. We should have been watching him more closely, especially with how interested he was in the Markets, but wedidn’t expect him to slink away. The others are looking for him. I waited to tell you, but we need to go join the search.”

Kiva nodded, her head flopping on her neck. She knew she should be alarmed, that the last place a curious eleven-year-old should be running amok was the deadly Midnight Markets, but the drug made her worry seem fuzzy and senseless. Tipp would be fine. They should just let him have his fun. She almost opened her mouth to say so, but Naari took her silence for dread and sent her a reassuring look before exiting Zofia’s store, assuming Kiva would follow.

Kiva did.

But then she didn’t.

Because once they reached the crowded thoroughfare, Naari hurried off in one direction, while Kiva paused to listen to the music in the distance.

Pretty song,she thought. Even her mental voice sounded slurred, with her now fully yielded to the angeldust. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so light, so happy, sofree.

Kiva grinned and skipped forward, heading away from Naari and up the sloping incline toward the fresher air. The sounds of strings and drums grew louder with every step, making her want to dance and sing. So that was what she did, somehow finding herself aboveground and nestled between tall dark buildings full of color and bright with luminium lights, people everywhere jumping and spinning to the music.

A delighted sound left Kiva when hands tugged her forward, sweeping her into a tide of arms and legs as she twirled from person to person, dancing on her own and with groups, her head thrown back with elation.

Everything was so beautiful, the crescent moon like a smile in the sky. She stared at it for a long time, stared and stared and stared, before the music carried her away again.

She didn’t know where she was, and even better, she didn’t care —about anything. All was right in her world. There was no Zuleeka and no Navok, no magic-stealing dagger or magic-giving rings. No warring families, no angry princes, and above all, no broken hearts. It was just Kiva and the music, along with cheering people and rainbow colors and bright lights blurring around her.

But then a hand latched on to her arm, yanking her firmly out of the mass of twirling, joyous bodies.

“What do you think you’redoing?” came Jaren’s furious voice, as he continued dragging her away from the crowd.

“The moon is smiling. We have to smile with it,” Kiva slurred, stumbling after him. And then into him, when he stopped suddenly. “Oops,” she said, giggling. “We bumped.”

From one blink to the next, Jaren was directly in front of her, his face mere inches away, his blue-gold eyesright thereas he examined her closely.

“Beautiful,” Kiva whispered, reaching out to touch him.

He jerked backwards before her hand could make contact, his gaze slitting with realization. “Are youhigh?”

Kiva peered upward at the tall sandstone buildings. “High,” she said, pointing. “Very high.”

Jaren cursed loudly. “I can’t believe you. After everything —” He bit out another curse, then grabbed her arm again. “Come on. We found Tipp back with the Mystican — he’s fine. Everyone’s headed to the palace.”

“Not the right palace,” Kiva said, tripping as Jaren guided her along the dark street, the festival noises fading behind them. “The River Palace is the right palace. The River Palace is home.”

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