“I’ve had little occasion, but I can make do. Sire.”
He took a second set of reins from Jeru. I assumed he would mount, but he lifted his right hand and began to pluck the fingers of his glove loose. The soldiers stilled.
The Commander extended his bare hand in my direction. “Allow me.” There was no mistaking his intention.
Marek’s voice. He can sense it by touch alone.
It wasn’t possible. Nobody but Jasadis possessed magic anymore. But why else would he remove his glove?
I counted my breath in time with my steps and gritted my teeth. The choice was a simple one. I pull my magic from the surface and pray the cuffs do as they were designed, or I reveal myself as a Jasadi and live long enough to scream.
I thought about Supreme Rawain’s wink at the Blood Summit, moments before the screams began. Gedo Niyar shoving me from the table. Molten gold sliding over Teta Palia’s eyes as her magic wrapped around the table. The roar when the table exploded, killing Teta and Gedo and engulfing anyone nearby in flames.
It was only later that I understood why the Malik and Malika chose such a gruesome fate for themselves. Accounting for the bodies of the dead when they lay in charred, unrecognizable pieces is a tricky task indeed. The record was taken, and ten-year-old Essiya’s name was listed among the deceased.
His father had spilled enough of my family’s blood. I would not grant the son the same privilege. Drift by drift, my magic ebbed back, the heat fading from my cuffs. My chest burned, as if I’d swallowed the sun.
I took the final step forward and folded my hand over the Commander’s.
He was unexpectedly warm to the touch. If I hadn’t been watching as keenly as I was, I might have missed the flicker of bemusement rippling across his stoic features. It was there and gone, but the meaning was unmistakable.
The Nizahl Heir was not a man who often found himself in error.
I raised my brows in a mockery of concern. “Is anything the matter, my liege? You’ve grown pale.”
I meant to land a barb, though it seemed only the growling soldiers felt the weight of my insolence. It would be in my best interest to keep far from the brawny one if I didn’t wish to suffer a fatal fall from my horse.
The Commander remained infuriatingly unruffled. “My natural complexion, I assure you.”
To my horror, he held his horse’s reins to the east. “You can’t mean to come to Mahair yourself,” I blurted.
“Sire!” the guard exploded. “If you would allow me to answer this insult—”
“Vaun.” The Commander aimed a quelling glance at his guard. “I’ve long meant to pay Mahair a visit. I have heard it is an honest and hardworking village. Have I been misled in this belief?”
I stared at him. Marek was wrong. They were all wrong. Arin of Nizahl’s greatest power did not lie in any supernatural ability. If I offered any resistance, I would raise their suspicions. If I agreed, he would say his visit to Mahair was on my invitation. He was three steps ahead in every direction I turned.
I pictured his mind as a thousand tiny serpents, moving in a rhythmic, seething coil. A snare within a snare, and I was caught fast within it.
“Not at all, my liege,” I said. “Mahair welcomes you.”
We rode into the village, outlined against the setting sun. The crowd from earlier had thinned. A hush fell over the remaining stragglers. If the silver hair and crest on his horse did not declare the Nizahl Heir, the unequivocal air of authority did. His soldiers flanked him in the colors of their kingdom, cutting space through the street.
I was the outlier. An Omalian commoner riding in the Heir’s cavalry. I shrank into myself as we moved, wishing my hair was not braided back from my face. Between this and my offer to carry Adel into the woods, my anonymity had been compromised more effectively than if I’d danced naked through the main road.
I brought my horse to a stop when we reached Rory’s shop front.
“I am expected here,” I said. “Thank you for the honor of your escort.” I hitched my leg to the side of the mount and dropped to the ground. “I do hope you enjoy your time in Mahair.”
When the Commander dismounted and handed the reins to one of his men, my budding optimism that this nightmare was over died.
“Allow me to explain your extended absence to your employer.”
Did he expect I’d lead him into a room riddled with evidence of magic? I strangled the basket’s arm and tipped my chin. “Your thoroughness is a merit to Nizahl.”
I hoped Rory had left his eviscerated frog experiments scattered over the counter. I wanted something to assault the Heir, even if just his sense of smell. I passed ahead of him, giving Vaun a wide berth. The bell above the door jangled with each entering guard. A cavalcade of uniformed doom. Rory sat on a bedraggled cushion, sorting salves and scribbling in his tattered record book. At my entrance, relief slackened his thin frame. “There you are, Sylv—my liege!”