Home > Books > The Unbroken (Magic of the Lost #1)(162)

The Unbroken (Magic of the Lost #1)(162)

Author:C. L. Clark

Luca, who was already turning their game against them.

Touraine felt nauseated, feverish with frustration, just thinking about the princess.

By the time word of Luca’s plan to repay Qazāli for their losses on the burning night reached them, it seemed like half of the slum had already emptied out, racing to collect.

Jaghotai had gone from a foul, if determined, mood to rage in an instant. That sky-falling liquor had to be the only reason the Jackal had even fallen asleep.

Touraine couldn’t sleep. All the mistakes she’d made rattled in her head like dice. She wouldn’t sleep well until she knew how they’d land. Not until she knew who would have to pay for Qazāl’s freedom and how much. Her gut told her she wouldn’t like the answer.

It didn’t help that she wasn’t feeling well today. She thought it was the cloistered air of the tent and staggered up to get some fresh air. A wave of fatigue made her stumble, though, and she caught herself on the tent flap.

“Are you going back to her, too?”

Jaghotai’s voice was thick from where she lay on the other side of the tent. It was too dark for Touraine to make out the colors of the blankets or the expression on her mother’s face.

“I know you sold us out to Cantic.”

Touraine’s retort dried in her throat. She hunted the dark for Jaghotai’s weapons. Desperation coiled in her stomach, but shame held her still. She felt warm. Too warm.

“What I couldn’t figure is… your princess seemed so attached to you. I kept wondering why you never went back to her, kept asking myself if maybe you really were here for us. I don’t think so. You could have had anything at her side. Only reason to leave would be if you knew she wouldn’t want you there. So why wouldn’t she want you there? You’d have to have done something she couldn’t forgive.”

Jaghotai stood. Touraine stepped back, making it look like reflex, and cracked the tent flap open enough to let in the moonlight. The pale light slashed across Jaghotai’s face, showing deep bags beneath her eyes. “She really was trying to make peace. Do you know how many people you’ve killed?”

Touraine swallowed. “My family was in danger.”

“Your family.” Jaghotai’s chuckle sounded pained.

Touraine’s back went rigid in response. Instead of stepping away again, she dug her words in even harder. She said, “More family than you ever were.”

Jaghotai snorted. “I had no choice in that. They took you—”

“And I came back. You knew who I was when you broke my ribs with your sky-falling boot. You’d have killed me then if it would have gotten you what you wanted,” she snarled.

Jaghotai hesitated. “I wouldn’t have.”

Touraine laughed, too, incredulous even though she wanted to believe it was the truth so badly that she couldn’t help but break that hope for the lie that it was. Otherwise she might cry instead, and she wouldn’t give Jaghotai that satisfaction.

“You’re saying if it had come down to Djasha and Aranen—or me, some strange enemy—you wouldn’t risk my life?”

Jaghotai flinched back into shadow.

Touraine had her beat. She twisted the sharp words tighter. “If you wouldn’t, I don’t need you as my family anylight.”

Touraine would work with her. She could. If the woman kept her space. The closer Jaghotai got, the more panic sent her flailing. This was the closest she could get right now to a concession. She would try—later, when this was all over, if she survived, she would. Touraine crossed her arms over her chest but didn’t back any farther away even though her legs felt weak.

“Tell me where the guns are.”

“A warehouse on rue de Sarpont, one of those little obnoxious streets in the Puddle District.”

Jaghotai sniffed. “First thing I do when I’m rid of your masters is rip down every one of those stupid street signs. Rue de Sarpont, my ass.” She sat back down to tug on her boots with the edges worn out. “I’ll take a small group now and see what we find before the sun comes up.”

“I should come with you. And a couple Sands. You’re short on fighters.”

“Short on fighters I can trust, sah. Doesn’t mean I want to add fighters I don’t.”

Touraine rolled her eyes. “As you like.”

Jaghotai turned to her with a wicked grin. “While we’re gone, do something useful, eh? We could use a few new shit ditches.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

The other woman’s loud laughter danced through the night as Jaghotai walked away.