Inches separated me from the Nizahl Heir. I stood close enough to see the dark victory eclipsing the frost in Arin’s eyes. I had done it—given him the evidence he needed.
Horror thrilled down my spine. I tried to jerk back.
When he spoke, the words brushed my temple. “If you wish to keep your head today, stay still.”
His hand closed around my wrist. My livid magic danced beneath the surface of my skin but did not break through a second time.
The Heir turned to ten of Felix’s guardsmen brandishing their swords in my direction. The villagers who weren’t occupied with moving Fairel’s splayed limbs onto a stretched calfskin watched with apprehension. Apprehension for me. They thought I had thrown the dagger. They hadn’t seen Arin knock it from my hand before it flew. A trickle of relief tempered some of the nausea churning in my gut.
Congratulations, it was only the Nizahl Heir who saw you use magic! Hanim yelled. No one important.
“Arrest her!” Felix screeched. “For her attack on the Heir of Omal! Where is the physician? Leave the girl! Can’t you see I’ve been stabbed?”
Fairel’s sudden, strangled cry pierced through me. I tried to go to her, but Arin’s grip on my wrist didn’t falter.
The Omalian guardsmen moved, but Arin’s men closed in front of us. Murmurs rose from the crowd. Heirs raising arms against one another was tantamount to a declaration of war.
“What is this?” Felix asked, and though his retinue blocked him from sight, his voice pinched with bewilderment. “Instruct your guards to stand down! I am after the girl, not you.”
I tried to yank my hand away. If I fled into the woods fast enough, I could climb a tree near the bend of Hirun and wait out any pursuers. I still had food waiting for me in the ravine. I would keep company with its ghosts while I devised my next steps.
“My men are not protecting the girl,” Arin said. “They are protecting your kingdom from incurring the full wrath of the Citadel.”
“Move!”
Felix’s protectors melted to the side, exposing the Omal Heir leaning against the carriage steps. The dagger jutted out of his thigh. The Nizahl guardsmen veered to the side, swords pointed at the Omalian guardsmen. Felix ignored me, which was just as well, as my perplexed expression would likely ruin whatever story Arin was spinning.
“Why?” Felix demanded. “Who is she to you?”
I spied Rory in the crowd, tending to Fairel. A bone jutted out of her right leg. Sefa knelt at his side, rubbing a clear liquid beneath Fairel’s nose. The girl’s pain-stricken eyes drooped shut, leaving her body still. Rory wrapped a cloth around the exposed break with a confidence his petrified features did not share.
They both stopped when they saw who stood behind the guards’ barricade. Rory went the color of the bone protruding from Fairel’s thigh, and Sefa clapped a hand over her mouth.
Arin didn’t react. In fact, it appeared as if the lot of us had vanished from his sight. Clear blue eyes flicked from side to side. I braced myself, for I had reason to worry. Wasn’t this how the most lethal corners of his mind worked? Chasing a million futures, probably calculating the far-reaching impact of each moment?
“Sylvia of Mahair is protected from harm under amnesty laws,” he said.
Felix blinked. Ah, there was our familial resemblance—confused grimaces. “How?”
“She is Nizahl’s chosen Champion for the Alcalah.”
The Commander’s control over his soldiers was commendable, for none of them flinched at this staggering announcement. Only Vaun’s hold on his sword budged, as if keeping it aimed forward required every ounce of his discipline.
The ground shook as Mahair surged to its feet as one, the air exploding with their exaltations. They struggled to identify me the ensuing chatter, everyone rushing to claim familiarity. “Raya’s ward! Rory’s apprentice!”
Then, “Nizahl’s Champion!”
Felix’s lips parted. “You cannot be serious. A lower village brat? One who just assaulted me? There are a thousand better choices.”
“I choose her,” Arin said. Final.
Felix opened and shut his mouth. Just as I thought he would be stupid enough to argue, he snarled. “Withdraw!” he snapped to his guards. “We cannot harm a Champion.”
Arin dropped my arm instantly. Vaun and the bald guard outpaced the Heir as he strode away, cutting a path through the onlookers. The Omalian guards hoisted Felix onto a taut buckskin, carrying him a few paces behind Arin.