BooksBarbecue
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Chapters (58)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Part One
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Part Two: Three Months Later
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Chapter Twenty-one
  27. Part Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-two
  29. Chapter Twenty-three
  30. Chapter Twenty-four
  31. Chapter Twenty-five
  32. Chapter Twenty-six
  33. Chapter Twenty-seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-one
  38. Chapter Thirty-two
  39. Chapter Thirty-three
  40. Chapter Thirty-four
  41. Chapter Thirty-five
  42. Chapter Thirty-six
  43. Chapter Thirty-seven
  44. Chapter Thirty-eight
  45. Chapter Thirty-nine
  46. Chapter Forty
  47. Chapter Forty-one
  48. Chapter Forty-two
  49. Chapter Forty-three
  50. Chapter Forty-four
  51. Chapter Forty-five
  52. Chapter Forty-six
  53. Chapter Forty-seven
  54. Chapter Forty-eight
  55. Epilogue
  56. Acknowledgments
  57. About the Author
  58. Keep Reading for a Sneak Peek at Umbertouched

I never thought I’d live long enough to speak of love. I’ve been one of Gatha’s elite since I turned fifteen, and that meant an early death on the battlefield. Killing Amparans was far more important than chasing women. How I got here to this point, sitting on a mat in the rosemarked hospital, sorting through the heartsick adventures of my other self, I do not know. It’s like my other self was a lovesick puppy, and now I’m left to clean up the mess on the floor.

“I know that you’re—he’s fond of me,” she says carefully. “But you overstate things.”

“Do I? I see him getting more hopeful every time he sees you, daydreaming about you all hours of the day. And he’s thrilled that you’ll be at the feast. More thrilled than he should be.”

“You can’t blame me for his infatuation. He doesn’t have many friends outside the army, and I’ve helped him through a difficult time. If it gets to be too much, I’ll set him straight.”

She brushes a hair from her eyes, and I notice the curve of her cheekbones, the graceful arch of her wrist. Her rosemarks, strikingly bright against her skin, accentuate her features. Though they disgusted me just a few months ago, they now seem to give her an otherworldly beauty, the beauty of someone who’s seen life and refused to back down. It’s something he would think, not me, and it just makes me angrier. What madness is this, being possessed of someone else’s eyes? I feel as if I’ve just climbed out of a swamp. I want to be myself again, the real me, but the other Dineas clings to me like a film of mud. Stubbornly, I dig up my oldest impressions of Zivah. The timid Dara villager, too fearful to devote herself to war. The plague victim, covered with the marks of death. Yet those impressions no longer feel right. They’re faded and awkward, like a piece of leather that has shrunk after the rain.

I shake my head. “Don’t lie to me about pushing him away. Do you think I don’t see the way you look at him? The way your eyes light up when he surprises you? The way you threw yourself into his arms when he came back from Monyar? I was there, Zivah. I remember everything.”

She stiffens, and I can almost see her wrapping invisible tendrils around herself and pulling herself together, that maddening self-composure. “I was happy to see him safely back. I was happy to see you back.”