He staggered, a scream foaming with the blood on his lips. His hands went to the stream of red coursing from his wound. The soldier collapsed to his knees.
“Be grateful that in death, nobody will try to sell your bones for a hearty broth.” I grimaced at the bloody dagger. It hadn’t seen this much excitement in a long time.
“Th… they will find my… body.” He spat a mouthful of blood onto my boot. “You will not… escape judgment.”
My dry eyes stung when I closed them. Even in the throes of death, this soldier thought he was my moral superior. Because he didn’t have magic? Because he was born in a Nizahlan home and I was born in a Jasadi one?
If only he knew the truth. If only he was capable of believing it.
“How many others… have you k-killed? How many?” he rasped.
The secret slammed against the inside of my teeth, eager to attack.
I wiped my dagger with the piece of sleeve he’d torn and tucked them both into my boot.
“Not nearly as many as you hope. You think I fear the judgment of Nizahl?” I stepped toward the soldier, batting away his feeble attempts to hold me off. My hands settled against each side of his face, cradling it. “Your soldiers cannot take me to your kingdom and put me before a court, because I do not exist. According to your history texts, I died almost eleven years ago. I burned to death alongside my grandparents and a dozen others. I believe my crown was taken for display in a war monument. Tell me, how can the dead stand trial for the living?”
He stared at me, uncomprehending, for a second before any remaining blood leached out of his face. “Impossible. You lie.”
“Frequently.” I smiled without any humor.
“The Jasad Heir perished in the Blood Summit. Everyone saw the blaze take her and the Malik and Malika. You cannot be her. She burned.”
“You are correct, soldier,” I said. “The Jasad Heir did burn in the Blood Summit. She was a better person. Susceptible to such notions as honor and virtue. She would have tried to save her kind. Protect them from the likes of you, even if it spelled her own destruction.
“But your Supreme killed her.” I stroked a finger down the soldier’s cheek. “And Sylvia replaced her. I do not heal. I do not lead.”
I tightened my hands and twisted sharply. The snap of the soldier’s neck echoed in the silent wood. “And unlike her, I am excellent at staying alive.”
He fell forward, his body hitting the earth with a dull thump.
I stood over him for the time it took to quiet my breathing. He was dead. He would not expose me. I killed him.
Rovial’s tainted tomb, I killed a Nizahl soldier.
I looked at the sky and nearly screeched. I had an hour and a half at the maximum before I lost the cover of darkness.
Dry leaves blew onto the lifeless soldier’s back. I lacked the proper tools and time to dig a grave, and I couldn’t leave him here—Nizahl soldiers would come crawling through every lower village in Omal searching for the killer. Even the ravine, hidden away as it was, would be compromised. I could think of only one way to prevent them from descending on us like a swarm of death.
I grabbed the soldier’s shoulder and hauled him onto his back. “You drank your weight in ale last night. You wandered too far into the woods and stumbled upon the river. Everyone knows the riverbanks require careful navigation, and you were anything but careful. It only takes one misstep. You were found floating in the water, probably near the southern embankments, body broken from the boulders under the tide.”
Not the worst plan, but also not my best. I sat on my haunches and pressed my lips together. I needed time to disguise his wounds and drag him to the river. At least two miles stretched between us and the nearest riverbank. Even if I somehow managed to finish arranging him on the rocks before the soldiers’ shift change, I wouldn’t get back to Mahair in time. They’d catch me past the raven tree line and throw me in the back of the nearest cart headed to Nizahl.
My stomach turned. I couldn’t finish this alone. I needed help.
Sliding my cloak over my shoulders and picking up the basket, I shot one more glance at the body. “I’ll be back.”
Then I ran. Faster than I had run in over five years. I had lived in these woods, yes, but I hadn’t been alone. I was with the woman who rescued me after the Blood Summit and trained me to survive. A Qayida who once led Jasad’s army into countless battles before being exiled. Hanim would add a dozen new scars to my back if she knew the risk I was taking.