It was not. Seeing it so clearly now, Zarrah questioned how she’d ever thought it could be.
There was nothing to be gained from her killing Silas tonight, not even the knowledge it would protect Keris. Because if she killed his father, it would mean condemning him to a fate he’d see as worse than death.
Zarrah refused to do that to him.
So she met Coralyn’s gaze and mouthed, No.
Panic flooded the old woman’s face even as Lara’s laugh filled the room, Keris’s sister declaring, “Do you really think that I’m such a fool as to come alone?”
The sisters cowering in the shadows moved as one, slitting the guards’ throats with shocking proficiency, gurgles filling the air even as bodies thudded to the ground. Then they dropped their veils, saying in unison, “Hello, Father.”
In that moment, Zarrah could have closed the distance between her and Silas and put that nail in his skull. Could have satisfied the need that had driven her for so many long years. But she only took a steadying breath as the room erupted into chaos.
Guests screamed and scrambled toward the door, colliding with what remained of Silas’s guards as they moved to attack his daughters. But the women only picked up the swords of their victims and met the men blow for blow, cutting them down.
“Never mind them—get her!” Silas shouted at his guards.
The men all rushed Lara, and Zarrah kicked off her high-heeled shoes, not willing to let the woman stand alone. Picking up her chair, she swung it at one of the guards, smashing him in the head. The wood broke, and holding tight to one of the legs, she struck him again, blood splattering her dress.
Whirling, she saw Coralyn unchaining Aren, Silas’s shriek of “Kill him! Kill the Ithicanian!” filling her ears.
Follow his lead. Keris’s voice rippled through her thoughts, reminding her that Coralyn wasn’t the only one with a plan. Yet it wasn’t her dependence on Aren for escape that had Zarrah moving, it was that she refused to stand by and watch another Ithicanian die.
Guards leapt to attack, and Zarrah swung her fist, the nail that had nearly been her damnation now Aren’s salvation as the steel plunged into the guard’s ear. He dropped, and Zarrah plucked up his knife, moving on to the next.
The noblemen, seeming to sense that if they didn’t fight, they’d die, picked up fallen weapons and flanked Silas. With steel in their hands, they rallied around their king, now a force to be reckoned with. The ambassadors cowered in the corners, looking like they weren’t certain which side they were on.
Loud hammering split the air.
Zarrah’s eyes jerked to the door. The thick wood shuddered with each blow, guards on the other side trying to break through. When they did, she and her allies would be outnumbered to the point that no amount of skill would see them through this alive.
She searched the room for a way out, but with the windows behind the curtains barred and with soldiers on the opposite sides of both doors, they were trapped.
Hands closed on her shoulders.
Zarrah twisted to attack, only to find Aren behind her. He hissed, “All this is for nothing if you get killed!”
Because Keris had made a promise on her behalf to supply Eranahl. Aren wasn’t doing this to save himself but to save his people, and so she didn’t struggle as he dragged her backward and pushed her behind a velvet curtain.
The windows were painted black, allowing in no light, but Zarrah grabbed hold of the bars over them, pulling as hard as she could before moving onto the next, finding every one of them secure. What in the name of God was their plan?
Did they even have a plan?
Wood cracked and splintered.
Tightening her grip on her knife, Zarrah stepped out from behind the curtain, ready to fight. A large gash had formed in the door, the soldiers on the other side almost through. But that wasn’t what stole her attention: it was Coralyn.
“Did you think we’d let you get away with it, Silas? Let you get away with stealing our children?” Coralyn shouted. “With murdering our children? Did you think there wouldn’t be a price to pay for your greed?”
She was taking credit. Taking the fall.
Like a mother—flawed and imperfect as she was—Coralyn was protecting her child.
“I’m going to gut you for this, you old bitch!”
“By all means, Silas, please do!” Coralyn laughed. “It will entertain me in the afterlife to watch how well you sleep knowing that every wife you have and every wife you ever take will be watching and waiting for a moment to get revenge for what you’ve done. The harem protects its own, and you’ve proven yourself our enemy. I think you’ll not drop those trousers of yours so easily knowing that all the pretty mouths you surround yourself with have teeth. So by all means, Silas. Martyr me. All it means is that I’ll have an exceptional vantage point to watch you pay for your crimes.”
The split in the main door widened. They only had seconds. Zarrah lifted her weapon, ready to die fighting if that was what it came to.
But Coralyn extracted a glass jar from the folds of her dress and threw it to the ground. Thick, choking smoke filled the room, and a hand caught Zarrah’s arm, Aren’s voice shouting, “Get behind the table and cover your ears!”
Throwing herself over the table, Zarrah landed with a thump between Lara and one of the other women, all of them coughing from the smoke. But it wasn’t to Keris’s sister that her attention went but to Coralyn, who stood upright and in defiance between them and Silas.
Without thinking, Zarrah lunged, tackling the old woman to the ground. She’d barely managed to clamp her hands over her ears when a deafening boom split the air.
Glass and bits of stone rained down on her, so hot they burned the skin they touched, but Zarrah only gritted her teeth as she pushed herself upright.
“Go!” Coralyn wiped blood from her face. “Run, you useless bitch!”
“Silas will kill you if you stay.” She could barely get the words out between coughs. Wasn’t entirely certain why she was bothering, only knew that Coralyn’s death would shatter Keris to the core.
“Someone has to take the blame, and I won’t let it be him.” The old harem wife shoved at her. “Tell Keris I love him.”
Before Zarrah could say another word, Coralyn strode into the haze. Slender fingers gripped Zarrah’s wrist, dragging her toward the broken window. Through the smoke, Zarrah made out blond hair, and then Lara’s voice demanded, “Who is she?” before she shoved Zarrah toward Aren.
“Later.” The King of Ithicana’s voice was clipped. “Climb!”
Ripping the skirt of her dress so that her legs were free, Zarrah jumped up onto the window frame, climbing the side of the harem building, a knife clenched between her teeth. One of the other women pulled her over the balcony railing and pushed her inside with a whispered warning of, “Stay silent.”