I should never have stayed in Mahair so long. I would not have loved Fairel nor cared for Rory’s good opinion. Sefa and Marek would have remained untouched by the horrors of their past.
Everything you touch, you ruin, Hanim said.
When Hanim’s voice had grown hoarse, and the disjointed laughter trickled to a stop, I slowly settled into myself. My shattered thoughts knit together, their seams red with Hanim’s venom but mine once more. I unfurled from my pose, rubbing sensation into my tingling muscles. I was afraid of how much time might have passed.
The shadows shifted, and I nearly shrieked at the dark figure seated on a chair near the opposite wall. My vision adjusted to the dim light. I found myself staring into Arin’s impassive face.
“Have you returned?” he asked.
I leaned my head against the wall. Vaun was nowhere to be seen, and I wondered how long Arin had sat there. “I never left.”
He stood, the bottom of his coat rippling around his boots. “Yes, you did.”
That night, I paced. Barefoot on the cold stone, hair freed from my braid, in the same dirty clothes I’d trained in. I traveled up and down the halls, losing myself in the complicated maze of tunnels winding through the complex. The blue light inside the walls followed me, so reminiscent of the gold streaks in Jasad’s fortress that I bit my lip. Every now and then, I would spot one of the guards from the corner of my eye. They were keeping watch from a distance. I was grateful for the space.
My first year in Mahair, I’d skulked around the village every night until sunrise. Memorizing escape routes, finding the corners to duck into when Nizahl soldiers passed. The perimeters of the village had seemed enormous. I had spent ten years comfortable in the opulence and majesty of Usr Jasad, followed by half a decade living in a hollowed-out tree infused with Hanim’s magic to fit exactly two cots and stacks of scrolls.
“Go back to your room. Now.” Vaun’s voice gave him away before he turned the corner.
I was too exhausted to handle Vaun. The other guards left me alone. Why couldn’t he? “You first.”
His lips curled back, and he stepped toe-to-toe with me. I ignored the urge to antagonize him further and ground out, “I can’t sleep. Walking calms me down.”
“I did not ask for your worthless opinion. Return to your room. If you leave again, I will drag you before His Highness myself.”
Loathing trickled over my lethargy. I hated every Nizahl soldier, but Vaun—Vaun represented a type I despised above all else. The kind of soldier who thrilled in the ounces of power the colors on his uniform lent him. The kind for whom inflicting misery was not a byproduct of necessity, but the purpose. Vaun was a soldier who would learn about merchants selling Jasadi bones and give the offenders a wink.
I glanced at my cuffs. The silver shifted, tightening around my wrists. My magic was upset. Why? Why now and not during breakfast, when Vaun called me a dog’s whore?
“I was not given orders from your Commander to remain in my room at all times,” I said. I didn’t flinch from his pungent breath or cower to his sad attempts to raise himself taller than me. “And I certainly do not take orders from you.”
Wes appeared behind Vaun. The older guard rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Vaun, enough. Jeru and Ren are maintaining watch. We were not ordered to confine her.”
Vaun didn’t budge. Ah—now I understood. I turned my chin and met Wes’s exasperated gaze. “He is baiting me. He wants me to attack him so he has an excuse to drag me before the Heir.”
The furrow on Wes’s brow deepened. He reached for Vaun’s arm. Before he could make contact, Vaun settled a hand on my waist.
I tensed harder than if he had spit in my face. I pushed his hand off.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed.
Keep your calm, Essiya, Hanim cautioned. He is goading you.
The next hand was on my arm. I tried to shove past him, but he clasped my elbow. His other hand went to my stomach, right above my navel. Any measure of composure sizzled to nothing.
Hanim tossed a rag. “Press it over the wound and stop crying. You shouldn’t have let it catch you.”
I turned my face into my hair. She hated the sight of my tears. I almost never cried anymore, but the pain—this pain eclipsed any I had known before it. My blood poured over my hands, soaking the rag in seconds.
Hanim crouched next to me and pried my hands away from my stomach. A sharp inhale whistled through her teeth. “Dania’s rusted axe, Essiya, what did you do?”
“I w-wanted to let it get c-close enough,” I moaned. Hot tears slid over my temples and into my hair. “I cut its head off. Like you said.”