The Hour of Dust and Ashes

him. They put another child in my place, the king’s son took over the throne, and a bounty was placed on my 1; Hank s Nearly a hundred years had passed from the time I’d fled until Edan told me the truth. I guess he finally thought I was ready to hear it.”

“And, of course, he’d figured out your part in the story.”

Hank smiled. “From the very beginning, I’m sure.”

“You loved him,” I said, seeing it in his smile, in the admiration and softness in his voice.

Hank shrugged, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “I was with him for almost two hundred years before he died. He made me promise to never go back to Fiallan. He knew I wanted to return, to tell everyone the truth of what Malakim really means, but he feared my death even though so much time had passed. He wanted me to leave Gorsedd and make a new life somewhere far away. So I went to Murias—a siren city far from Fiallan. That was … an eye-opener …”

“How so?”

He turned and cocked an eyebrow. “I wasn’t like other sirens, Charlie. I learned everything I could from Edan except for the one thing sirens are known for besides their voice.”

Oh.

He chuckled softly at me, and then gave a nonchalant shrug. “I was a dedicated student.”

“Ha. I bet you were,” I muttered, concentrating on the path. “So how did you wind up in Atlanta?”

“I was only in Murias for a year when the existence of our world and Charbydon was revealed, and I saw my opportunity to leave Elysia and make good on my promise to Edan.”

“You don’t fear living out in the open? Even if it is in another world?”

He shook his head. “Who would know me? My family hasn’t seen me since I was six. Only the Circe know me as a full-grown siren, and they never leave Fiallan. The only one who knows me is Pendaran.”

“How does Pen know?”

“He was sent to Edan for study one season. Edan was a hermit, but one whose reputation preceded him. One only found his hut if he wanted them to. Apparently he thought the druid worthy and accepted him.”

“You said you and Pen knew each other as children. I guess that wasn’t entirely true, then.”

“Well, I was still a child in a lot of ways, so maybe partially true.”

“That’s a stretch.”

We settled into a comfortable silence as I mulled over Hank’s story. I never would’ve guessed he’d had such a troubled past. He never let on, never walked around with a chip on his shoulder or a woe-is-me attitude.

He’d been through so much. So much betrayal, from his people, his king, even his family. And all the obstacles he’d had to overcome; learning how to function in society again, even learning how to read and write, to interact … I grew angry, so pissed on his behalf that I wanted to go to Elysia and stop this barbaric practice myself. How cruel—using children to protect a city that didn’t even need protecting.

“Do you think your family or the people of Fiallan would listen to your story now?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. My story has passed into something of a legend where I play the villain. My family was disgraced. They denounced me, lost their position of honor that the Malakim had always afforded them. I’m sure they’d kill me on sight, if they could,” he said with a wry smile.

“And the sirens in the terminal? You think it was Llyran who told them who you are, what you look like?” Llyran had called Hank Malakim. Somehow he’d discovered the truth. And Llyran certainly had the psychopathic drive to find intense pleasure in seeing Hank suffer.

“Him or Nuallan Gow.”

I blinked and my step faltered. “Nuallan Gow? How the hell would the Master Crafter of Atlanta know who you really are?” A mental image of her swam in my head. Black crafter extraordinaire, a ghoul in the guise of a beautiful human, and the bitch who had slept with my husband and tried to have me killed. Nuallan was a plague, a bad rash that kept coming back to haunt me.

“Probably figured it out from my ring. Every Malakim is given a ring. It’s special. It grows with you, stays on you from the time you enter until the time you leave. It signifies my family’s contribution to the Malakim.”

My stomach knotted. “The ring you bribed Nuallan with to help us spell Aaron’s body when he died.” I stopped. My mouth fell open. “Un-fucking-believable. How could you give her something that could identify you? We could’ve bartered for something else, Hank! Given her another reason to help us …”

“She wanted my ring. There are only a handful of people who could have known what it meant. The writing on it is the sirens’ ancient language, not even used today … The stone is where the value lies. I assumed that’s why she wanted it.”

“How could you be so blasé about it? Why? Why did you do that? Why did you even keep the thing if it could identify you?”

“I gave it to her because Aaron was dying,” he said simply. He stopped, dragging a hand through his sweat- soaked hair, and then stared at me with conviction in those glittering sapphire eyes. “We were there on that porch with time running out. She was the only person who could’ve saved him and she wanted my ring in return. I made the only choice I could.”

My mouth opened and closed. I wanted to rail at him, to fault him, but I couldn’t. How could I? He’d saved Aaron’s life. It was noble and right, and goddamn the sirens in Elysia for thinking him anything but honorable. Goddamn his king, the Circe, and his family for turning their backs on him. Damn them all.

I marched away, so angry that tears blurred my vision. He caught up with me and grabbed my arm. As soon as he saw the sheen in my eyes, he stiffened. A curtain of iron fell over his features. “Don’t you dare pity me, Charlie. I can handle most anything but that.”

“How do you expect me to feel?” I jerked from his hold. “I can’t help but feel sorry for that little boy who was robbed of a life. How can I not? As a human being, as a mother … I cn’t stand even hearing about a child being abused or abandoned, betrayed by those who are supposed to love him! How can I not feel for the child you were?”

His icy façade cracked. Anger flared around us. His fingers parked on his hips—a sign he was about to argue—but I shouted over him as he spoke. “I don’t pity the person you are now! I’m proud to even say I know you, and I sure as hell don’t want you going back now! So don’t you yell at me!”

My chest was heaving. Power coiled in my gut. I realized I was the one yelling, not him, so my words didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but … Tears slipped hot down my cheeks. Frustration built inside until I could do nothing else but make fists, growl, and march away.

He’d stepped up. He’d defied authority and he fought to rebuild his life and reinvent himself. He’d come to my world. Alone. In a foreign place. Without anyone. Damn right, I was proud of him. And he could go to hell if he thought that was pity.

I got five steps before he grabbed my arm and turned me around. Bleak thunderstorms gathered in his expression. His Adam’s apple bobbed. His head shook slightly as though he didn’t know quite what to do. His lips thinned in sudden determination as he reached out, hauled me close, and hugged me.

Surprise made me stiff as a board. His pulse beat hard through his neck. I felt it pumping against the side of my chin. We were sticky and sweaty and gritty, but it didn’t matter. My hands slid around to the hard planes of his back. I relaxed. It felt … good. Safe. Comforting.

“You really piss me off,” I muttered against his shirt.

He kissed the top of my head, tucked my dirty, sandy hair behind my ear, and then graced me with a crooked smile that dimpled his scruffy cheek. “A clear indication you like me, Madigan.”

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to lift my head, but I couldn’t stop the ridiculous laughter. “Oh my God,” I breathed. “We are so screwed.” In so many ways. “What will they do if they catch you?”

“They’d probably put me back in the grid and make sure I can’t get out. That would be worse than death and the Circe know it.”

And his life would basically be over. Time would pass, people would come and go, and Hank would be stuck again. But he could break free from it. He’d done so before.

“No, Charlie,” he said, perceiving my thoughts. “It took me a long time to break free. You. Emma. Everyone I know would be gone by the time I’d manage it again—if I even could. And by then …” He shrugged. “What would be