Page 133 of House of Embers
“It was Zina’s,” Fordham corrected. “Is Zina reckless?”
“Zina just gave me the idea. I was the one who executed it.”
“So no one else can be reckless in this situation? It’s only you and thus only your fault? Even though we all weighed the risks in a war council and agreed to go after the crown together?” Fordham asked stoically. “Even though I am your bound mate and agreed to walk into the belly of the beast with you?”
“You know what I mean,” Kerrigan said. “We didn’t have enough information, and everyone went along with it because I’ve made these sorts of things work before.”
“And I’ll reiterate that you and I made it in and out of the mountain, Clover had zero casualties while she stole a warehouse for the armory, and we took out some of their dragon guard,” Fordham said. “It was your plan, and it worked.”
“But my father—”
“Knew what he signed up for.”
“And he’sdeadfor it,” she all but screamed.
“He is,” Fordham said. “We cannot change what happened. I know what it is to lose a father. I’ve lost many people I love. In this instance, I believe that both Kivrin and Gelryn entered battle knowing what could happen. It shouldn’t have. They were both incredible fighters, but itdidhappen.”
Kerrigan turned from Fordham’s words. She didn’t want to think logically about this. She was shaken. Her recklessness had shown her a part of herself that she hadn’t wanted to see—a fear where before only courage had rested.
“What do I do?” she whispered.
“You face what happened. You look at your own mortality and know that you’re not invincible,” Fordham said. “Then you come back. You lead.”
“And if I cannot?”
“Then we lose,” he said simply.
She met his gaze with a growing fear in her stomach. “But…”
“You are the most fearsome and incredible individual I have ever met in my life, in any life. We need you to win this, my love.” He took her hand in his and placed it on his heart. “I need you.”
She nodded, hiccuping one more time over her tears. “I need you too.”
He brought his lips to hers. “I am yours forever.”
She sniffed, shoving at his suit. “You know…I let you wallow in Domara. You could have given me more than a few days.”
Fordham’s smile was brilliant. “If I gave you more than a few days, you would have ceased to exist. I can brood forever.”
That brought a real laugh from her. “Isn’t that the truth?”
“Will you return to the mountain with me? You’re still shivering.”
“Yes.” Her eyes returned to the pyre, which had burned down at this point. “Can we take the ashes ourselves though?”
“Do you want to do it or should I?” he asked, reaching for the bronze urn at the base of the pyre.
“Will you?” she asked softly.
His eyes softened. “Of course.”
It took him a few minutes to scoop the remains of her father into the urn. He jumped back down and passed it to her. Then he swept an arm around her shoulders and walked her deeper into the mountain.
Fordham lit a torch and carried it down the blank, winding hallways. Eventually they stopped before a large metal door. He produced a thick key out of a pocket of the nothing, the same way he had the first time they’d been here, and turned it in the hole. It clicked opennoisily, and Fordham put his shoulder into the door to shove it on screeching hinges.
He set the torch into a bracket on the wall, illuminating Fordham’s favorite thinking spot. It was the same as the last few times she’d been here and somehow darker and drearier. Gold glinted on headstones around the room. Names and dates had been etched onto hard stone. All except the crowned maiden in the empty casket at its center. Depressing.
“I wish I could bring my father to Waisley.”
