“Trust, Damin?” Lyra says. She pauses there before glancing at Siri. “Give us a moment, please.”
Siri sends me a look I do not have the wherewithal to decipher, and prods her mount forward, leaving me with Lyra in a cocoon of silence.
“You are the revered lady,” I say eventually after trying to avoid Lyra’s expectant gaze. “They trust you and therefore you are effective …”
“Stop there, my husband,” she sighs. “Let us be real. How long will that trust remain when folk understand Arc is a trap? I led everyone into slavery.”
I stare at her, understanding how coiled she is inside, twisted with guilt. “No one knew what awaited here, my love. You cannot assume this burden.”
“But I have and so have you.”
Closing me eyes, I nod. Of course I have. I too led them here.
“Damin, now we do what we can to save as many as we are able to,” Lyra says quietly. “Together. As long as we trust each other, we can do this.”
Drawing in a breath, I open my eyes. “By condemning people because an ancient bloodline now determines their fate? It does not feel right, Lyra.”
“No, it is wrong however we dress it up.”
I jerk to her. “Is there another way?”
She lowers her head. “I hope so.” Swallowing, she then gazes directly into my eyes, her blue and green orbs bright in the sunshine. “Meanwhile we prepare. We do what we must.”
“We sniff for the Glonu among us,” I growl. “In the event there is no other hope of escape. Fine. I will do it at camp tonight. I will delve for the images that set us forever apart.”
“I do not like it either,” Lyra whispers.
I lean in then and draw her into my arms, the horses jostling each other under us. “We are in this together and that is what is important.”