The eye that hadn’t swollen shut in Marek’s face widened. Sefa’s breaths came too fast, juddering out of her shaking body. “Am I dead?” She patted at her throat.
“You’re a Jasadi,” Marek breathed.
Arin seemed to have forgotten about the two wards. He kicked Vaun’s shin, but the guard could only quiver. A calculating gleam sparked in the Heir’s gaze. Marek stumbled upright, helped along by Sefa. Before they could go any farther, Arin casually raised his blade. “I wouldn’t recommend running,” he said.
Marek sneered, shoving Sefa behind him. “Go! It’s only one dagger.”
I groped around in my cloak, a litany of curses on my lips. A single dagger was all he needed. Sefa would sever her own limbs before leaving Marek to die, and Arin probably knew it.
Sefa had turned out the pockets when she washed my cloak. Had she returned everything to its original place?
My fingers closed around a solid, cool shape.
It was exceptionally satisfying that my magic over Vaun broke at the same instant Arin found the tip of my blade pressed against his side.
“Vaun, if you take a single step, your Heir will be dead before the blade leaves his body,” I said.
“I will feed your bones to the dogs,” Vaun snarled. “Jasadi filth.”
I pushed the dagger against the hard plane of Arin’s stomach, tearing through his black vest. Arin glanced at the blade, then at me. He pursed his lips, looking vaguely annoyed.
There are two dozen ways he could disarm you, Hanim said. Half of them involve your own blade buried in your body.
I spoke fast. “My magic responds in their presence when it responds to little else. They know about my abilities now. They might reveal my magic if you send them to Nizahl. Any confidence is easy to betray under the right pressure.”
“A sound argument for killing them,” Arin said. Sefa had her arms around Marek’s waist, holding him up. They watched us with the wariness of chickens on the butcher’s block.
“Or keeping them in the tunnels.”
Arin blinked, and I pressed my advantage. “It’s the most practical option. They are the sole clue we have to my magic, and they can hardly spread my secret from the tunnels.”
The fastest route to persuade Arin lay in logic, and from the furrow forming in his brow, I had him.
“Why lose a bargaining chip needlessly?” I pushed.
“And if they escape?”
“They won’t.”
Arin assessed the trembling Nizahlans. I held my breath, my palm slick around the dagger’s hilt. Essam was unnaturally quiet, waiting with me.
Though his voice was soft, the wind carried his words like ice falling from a seething sky. “Do not waste this mercy,” Arin said. “It will not be granted twice.”
He dropped his arm. Relief coursed through me. The argument for sparing their lives had triumphed. A tenuous victory. If Sefa and Marek proved too troublesome, Arin’s scale would shift in death’s favor.
“Vaun, escort them to the tunnels,” he said. “Remembering, of course, that they are our invited guests. No harm can come to them.”
Arin’s training was apparently worth its weight in gold, because Vaun managed to bow despite the protest lodged in his scowl. I nodded at Marek and Sefa. His flaws were many, but Vaun would not disobey a direct order from his Heir.
“Your Highness,” Vaun said. He motioned at the dagger I still held to Arin’s abdomen.
“Oh,” Arin said, having deemed my threat inconsequential enough to forget. I scowled and slid the dagger back into the cloak’s pocket. Marek and Sefa walked ahead of Vaun, leaning on each other.
Arin turned. From the way his brows crawled up his forehead, he hadn’t taken a proper look at me until now.
“I lost my skirt in the river,” I said primly.
“You’re holding a cloak.”
I crossed my arms. “I’m certain it has never been a consideration of yours, but wool is a difficult material to launder. Sefa spent hours—” I cut myself off with a huff. It was unexplainable, how effectively he roused my ire. “I’m keeping it dry.”
He shrugged off his coat and held it toward me. I stared, uncomprehending.
“It’s cold, and you are shivering.” A touch of defensiveness crept into his tone. “Illness eats more time than I have to spare.”
I rolled my eyes. His precious time. I accepted the coat, pushing my arms through the long sleeves. Since Arin stood a head taller than me, the coat fell to my feet instead of my calves. Arin’s gaze lingered on my neck for longer than normal. When he reached forward, I cringed, tightening my grip on the dagger. I half expected him to close his hands around my throat. Instead, what he did was far more baffling.