The rustling signs of nature faded into eerie silence. Our footfalls changed, taking on an echo. “If it brings you relief, Jeru, Wes is right,” I said. Distracted, I dragged my heels, bewildered when the calfskin slid without catching on any loose dirt or puddles. The terrain had gone flat and smooth. Similar to the roads leading to Omal’s upper towns. Where were we?
“Your Commander was hardly moved by passion, although I suppose sensing my magic changed that.” His feverish reaction still lingered in the vault of unanswered questions. How could the strictest discipline fray into such a mania? Niphran’s specter had said he was reacting to my magic. Was it an anomaly of birth? The way some children sense death or a coming storm—was that how he sensed magic?
But then, why had my magic reacted to his touch?
Jeru and Wes stiffened. I continued, unperturbed. If they did not already know I was a Jasadi, they would learn the truth soon. “I think he was annoyed I tried to stab him.”
Wes choked. “You what?”
“Oh, don’t fuss. He disarmed me immediately. The most I managed to do was graze him with the axe.”
“Graze him,” Jeru repeated, several decibels above his normal register. “It is a miracle you have survived as long as this.”
“You have no idea,” I said. “Where are we?”
The blindfold fell away. Swiping my hair from my face, I surveyed our surroundings. We stood in the dead center of a clearing between four towering trees. I made a slow turn, unease trickling down my spine at the unnatural symmetry. The rain had followed us as soon as we started walking, yet we stood completely dry in this pocket of space. The rain hit an unseen barrier at the apex of the trees and sluiced over the sides of the invisible walls.
I spun in the void, reaching for the rain that didn’t fall. Extraordinary. For a sphere of protection to be woven into the fabric of the woods so seamlessly, a dozen Jasadis must have pooled their magic.
I didn’t recognize our surroundings. If I had truly slept for eleven hours, they would have had time to take me entirely out of Omalian territory. The majority of Essam was unclaimed by any kingdom.
“If you’re quite finished,” Wes said. “Slacken your muscles and brace your knees.”
I’d heard those instructions before, typically right before Hanim shoved me off a bluff. I glanced at Jeru questioningly. He pointed at my knees.
The ground crumbled beneath us, and I dropped straight down.
Landing on my heels, I coughed at the explosion of dust. The guards hit the ground smoothly.
He wanted to train me underground? Baira’s blessed breath, I would need a miracle tonight. Each passing minute made my prospects of escape more and more unlikely.
Not that it mattered. Unlikely or not, I did not plan to spend a single night in this… living grave. I had a complicated relationship with luck, but after the last few days, it owed me.
They led me through a complicated series of tunnels. The halls narrowed the longer we walked, until I had to duck my head to avoid brushing the ceiling with my hair. Stale air tickled my nose. Alabaster tiles covered the walls, their edges emanating an iridescent light. I grazed my fingers over the glowing tiles with no small amount of awe. The evidence of magic was everywhere. Who had these tunnels belonged to? Even Jasad’s wealthiest wilayahs wouldn’t have expended the amount of labor and expense needed to build all of this beneath Essam. An underground network of this scale was beyond their eccentricities.
Just as I started to think the goal was to suffocate me, the hall ended at the threshold of a towering silver door. Etched along the door’s round frame were intricate gold letters, winding through and into one another. Was the writing… Resar? I squinted at the letters, trying to make out any words. I couldn’t stand this Resar writing style, where the words were written to appear elegant and, as such, made almost unintelligible.
Before I could decipher more than the word nahnu, Jeru and Wes extended their fists in unison and knocked twice. A piercing shriek sounded as the door heaved to the side.
When I hesitated at the threshold, Wes prodded my arm. “Go on.”
With leaden dread, I stepped through the door. The sight that greeted me nearly took me to my knees.
High above us, a glass ceiling swirled with pillowy clouds. They moved around an invisible wind, floating halfway down each side of the enormous room, at which point a lively, verdant courtyard overtook the walls. The courtyard of Usr Jasad.
Every detail of the palace had been captured. Seven gold pillars soared toward the clouds, supporting the awning curving around the front of the magnificent palace. Beneath them, the staircase stretched almost a quarter of a mile wide, one banister at the first pillar and the second at the last. Silver flames danced beneath the translucent steps, chasing the footsteps of the climbers. I’d spent countless hours darting around those steps, trying to outrun the flames. Guards wearing Jasad’s uniform patrolled at the foot of the stairs. In the courtyard in front of the Usr, children chased a rabbit hopping in midair, just out of their limited reach.