In a different life, I thought, I would have chosen you, too.
The hands separated, and we disappeared.
EPILOGUE
ARIN
In the following madness, Arin of Nizahl stood still in a sea of movement.
The guests teemed on the Citadel’s lawn. Soldiers steered carriages stacked with barrels of water to the burning wing and ran inside.
“She died. I thought she died,” Queen Hanan repeated. The Queen of Omal sank into an unseemly heap on the ground. Felix hovered over her, trying to pull his grandmother to her feet. “Emre’s daughter is alive?”
Accusations flew between the royals. She had stayed under each of their roofs, eaten at their tables. “Find her!” Rawain slammed his scepter into the earth. “Close the gates! Send sentries into the woods!”
Arin knew he should speak. He should tell his father the soldiers would find nothing on the Citadel’s grounds. Instruct them to barricade the roads instead. If the news reached Nizahl’s upper towns, it would spread through the kingdom in days. Panic would catch like dry kindling, and the lower villages would begin hoarding food and hiding children eligible for conscription.
But there was a different chaos breaking loose inside the Heir. Gaining speed, preparing to detonate. He searched for control in the seething mass, but it evaded him.
The Nizahl Heir did not know what would come out of his mouth if he tried to speak. Though the fire raged in the Citadel’s wing, expelling soldiers covered in soot and ash, Arin was the greatest threat to the people around him.
For the first time in his life, Arin could not think.
Vaida’s voice danced by his ear. “The Jasad Queen, really? Poor darling, how terrible you must feel. To have had your greatest enemy so close for so long, only to lose her now.” The Sultana moved around to face him, a smug smile on her ruby mouth. She leaned into him. “And you certainly kept her close, didn’t—” The Sultana’s words died on her lips as Arin’s gloved hand struck out, closing around her throat.
He became distantly aware of the dispersed Lukubi guards shouting and running for them. Of his father bringing his scepter down on the stiff line of Arin’s arm as he lifted a kicking Vaida into the air.
“Arin,” Sylvia whispered. She pressed her cheek to his hair. “Am I hurting you?”
Vaida scrabbled at his inflexible fingers, struggling in his grip. She looked into his eyes, and whatever the Sultana saw had her writhing like a cat in water. Nizahl soldiers collided with the Lukubi guards in a clash of swords.
Two bodies slammed into him from the side, taking him and Vaida to the ground. Lukubi guards snatched the heaving Sultana away as she started to cry, whisking her toward the Lukub carriages.
The horrified faces of his personal guardsmen stared down at him. Supreme Rawain switched from rage to charm in an instant, placating the aghast royals. “We all know my son is not prone to such terrible displays of temper. The effects of a Champion’s betrayal, you understand. He will apologize to the Sultana as soon as Her Highness has a moment to collect herself.”
If he wished to, Arin could fight off his guardsmen. He could slaughter every Lukubi intercepting his path to Vaida, reach into the carriage, and snap the neck he had already spared twice.
“Sire,” Jeru murmured, audible only to Arin’s ears. “We found sim siya arrows near the banquet table. She did not leave on her own.” Ash floated in the air above Jeru.
“The Urabi have taken her,” Wes finished. “My liege, you must return to yourself. The Urabi have claimed the Jasad Queen for their cause.”
His steadfast guardsmen, trained at his hand, subject to the most harrowing journeys in his service, were frightened for him.
Arin stared at the black sky and let ice trickle into his veins, encasing the seething darkness, halting its progression.
He could not rein the storm forever. Just long enough.
“Get off,” Arin clipped.
The guards lurched to their feet, and the guests skittered back as Arin stood.
To Wes, he said, “Bring back any soldiers entering the upper towns. If they have caused a commotion, say a thief has made away with the treasures in the Orbanian carriages. If King Murib is willing, take ten khawaga with you.”
Finally, he stepped toward Jeru. The curly-haired guard stiffened.
Arin’s voice was silky. “Find Sefa and Marek.”
Jeru’s nostrils flared, but he gave a short nod.
With his guards disappearing to carry out his will, Arin turned to the assembled guests. He avoided his father’s shrewd gaze. “Only those on the royal platform were close enough to hear exactly what transpired before the wing collapsed. The other guests merely witnessed the Nizahl Champion use magic. It cannot spread that the Jasad Queen is alive. There are Jasadis hidden in each of your kingdoms, burrowed deep into the fabric of our society. Should they learn their Queen is calling them, your lands will unravel. It only takes a single servant overhearing one conversation. Her identity must be kept secret at all costs.” He moved his gaze over their faces. “The Nizahl Champion revealed herself as a Jasadi and attacked the Citadel tonight. No more, no less. Do you understand?”