Zina scoffed. “If I had not treated you as an
anomaly—if I had not taken the prophecy into consideration and been blinded by
my own fool goals, would we be here?”
Kari approached her and leaned against the wall beside
the window. “Something would have guided us here eventually,” she said. “That’s
what Guine said. You really are arrogant if you think it’s all on you.”
Zina laughed, though it was tired and desperately
lacking any amusement. “Maybe the Catalyst would have followed its fate. I
certainly am not so full of myself that I would take all the blame for the
wiles of destiny, if such a thing exists. But the fact is I made great leaps in
the wrong direction not because I thought it was right, but because I was
selfish.” She turned and looked at Kari with shadowed, gray eyes. “I am sorry
for everything my actions put you through, Kari.”
Kari’s heart twisted. She cleared her throat. “An
apology, from you?”
Zina smiled wryly. “You won’t get another.”
Kari’s tail twitched at the way she said that. “Thank
you, Zina. I forgive you.”
Zina closed her eyes and turned to the window again.
“Zina…” Kari hesitantly started. “If there is
something you know, something you think you have to prove…well.” She rubbed the
back of her neck. “We saw your letters to Nova. We know you’ve been talking to
the angels,” she said quickly before she could regret the words. “If Kinera—the
Seraph of Nalmi—told you to do something…” Kari exhaled an annoyed breath.
“Listen, we’re all in this together. Every single one of us has a task, and
every single one of us is going to celebrate tomorrow after we’ve won. But that
means we have to rely on each other, trust each other.”
Zina was quiet. Kari was afraid their talk would be
over, replaced with defensive anger.
At last, Zina hummed. She dug her fingers into the
window and shoved it up, allowing a freshly cool breeze to whip her hair out of
place. “You always hated my secrets, Kari. I regret to inform you I rather
enjoy them.” She smirked and a glint came to her gray eyes, a liveliness Kari
hadn’t seen since they’d come back. “You will know everything you need to when
it’s all over.”
“That’s not enough, Zina,” Kari insisted. “Whatever
she’s asked you to do, you don’t have to. Or we can help you. I can—”
“If you could help me with this, I would gladly let
you,” Zina said. “However, this is a burden I have carried for a long, long
time. I have no regrets now. Do you understand, Kari?”
Kari opened her mouth, then closed it. She bit her
lip. “Zina…”
“Whatever happens tomorrow,” Zina said firmly, “I have
no regrets. Do you understand?”
She repeated the question in a tone made of steel;
Kari had not heard her talk so since the days of her training.
“I understand,” she muttered. “But if I find an
alternative, I’m taking it.”
Zina’s lips twitched into
an almost-smile. “I expected nothing less.”
