I glanced at my cuffs and shook the specter of the Jasad Heir from my head. She had died, in every way that mattered.
Tucking two daggers into my boot, I left the weapons chest open and hurried to the silver door. Jeru and Wes had knocked on it at the same time. I rapped both knuckles against it and paused. The door did not react.
I threw my weight against it. The bottom scraped against stone, shrieking with each inch I shoved it open. Subtle.
I didn’t waste my advantage waiting to see if anyone heard. I slipped into the narrow hall and sprinted. Kapastra’s scaly throne, how had anyone willingly lived in this tomb?
You have grown soft in Mahair, Hanim scolded. Listen to you, panting from a little run!
I finally stumbled into the spot where we’d dropped into the complex. Light leaked from the edges of a circle in the dirt ceiling. Too high for jumping. I looked for a rope, a foothold, anything I could use to climb. Nothing but crumbling dirt.
Frustration howled the longer I searched. This is how they would catch me. Not dodging them with skill and cleverness in Essam, but in a dead end, like a rat with its head stuck in a hole. I pulled one of the daggers from my boot and hacked at the wall. He had trapped me in Essam just as Hanim had. Planned to use me, just as Hanim had. I wanted to laugh—who could have known the Nizahl Commander and the Qayida of Jasad had so much in common?
I hacked the wall with my dagger again. The blade wedged against stone, resisting my pull. Really? I almost used the second dagger to stab the first until inspiration hit me with the force of a rabid bull.
My fit of rage had lost me a dagger, but it also created a foothold.
I checked the firmness of the dagger in the wall and pulled my other blade from my boot. I backed up, evaluating the distance between the ground and the dagger. Then I ran forward and leapt.
My right boot caught the blade’s handle. I twisted my middle and swung with my other dagger, using my seconds of leverage to stab the center of the circle. The dirt crumbled. Moonlight flooded through the opening.
I hit the ground with a grin. Almost there.
I tucked my free dagger into my boot and took another running leap. This time, I didn’t turn. I reached back until my hands found the edge of the circle. I dangled in midair, grateful I had had the foresight to free my arms from the constraint of sleeves. Grunting, I clenched the muscles in my stomach and pulled my head and shoulders through the circle. I clawed at the ground, drawing the rest of my body out and onto solid earth.
With a triumphant huff, I kicked dirt into the opening. Escaping this accursed complex was as close to a birthing experience as I ever intended to get. The moon shone brightly, streaming past the naked branches rustling overhead. The only witness to my rather impressive feat.
The strange bubble of protection between the four symmetrical trees did not resist when I walked through it. As soon as I did, the unbearably cold wind battered me. Darkness unraveled in each direction I turned.
Every hair on Raya’s head would turn white if she saw me. Simply staring in the direction of the woods at night had spooked her, and here I was. Devoured by the dark.
I started jogging east. With each step, worry edged out my elation. If Arin hadn’t transported me across Hirun, then I would find myself running in the direction of the mountains. Otherwise, east was my best chance at locating the river.
I flexed my wrists and leapt over a pond the size of a cow. Why had my cuffs tightened in the training center? What had upset my magic? Nearly thirteen years with these cuffs, and I had yet to discern a recognizable pattern to my magic’s reactions. Before the incident with Fairel, I would have ignored it. My magic had a long history of disappointing me.
It was impossible not to think of Hanim as I ran through Essam, navigating the dark by instinct alone. She would rouse me in the middle of the night for runs exactly like this one. Blindfolded and cold, I’d hike a mile from the warded hovel we called home. At the bottom of the river’s runoff, Hanim would point at an expanse of frozen dirt and order me to dig a hole wide and long enough to lie in using only my magic. Reasoning with her was futile. Any reminder of my trapped powers enraged her. So I would get on my knees and dig, muscles cramping against the cold, until my fingers were useless and bloody or the sun rose. Whichever came first.
A distant howl raised the hair on my arms. Essam Woods did not treat its guests tenderly after dusk.
Another howl, closer this time. The sky opened in sheets of rain. Unease slithered down my spine. I listened hard through the patter. The air grew heavier, and my hurried step could not shake my mounting dread.