On my right, Marek sank to the ground, covering his head with his arms. A frog hopped onto his shoulder, its chest ballooning with a croak. A disbelieving chuckle slipped from my lips. “Do you mean to say you and Marek were vagrants?”
Sefa nodded vigorously. “Worse. Your route is nothing compared to our deceptions. We stole everything—jewels, clothes, farm tools. Then we sold them in the next village. We cheated our way into homes, charmed merchants and healers. Over and over, for years.”
I shifted the cloak to my other arm and scooped the frog from Marek’s arm. “What changed?”
Marek finally animated, lurching to his feet. He pointed at Sefa. “Go on, tell her. Tell her what changed.”
The frog wiggled in my grip, unsettled by the tension whipping between the two. I released him on a boulder and enviously watched him scurry away. Sloshing onto the river’s bank, Sefa worried her bottom lip. “There was an… incident… in one of the Orbanian villages.”
Marek swung in my direction. “By ‘incident,’ she means we were caught in a scheme. While I was visiting a market, Sefa was beaten nearly to death. I stole a cart and barely outran the patrol. She was on her last breath when we stumbled into Mahair.”
“We have led decent lives since then,” Sefa interjected, largely ignoring Marek’s ire. I couldn’t blame him for his frustration; Sefa invited danger with startling frequency. “We can hide you from Nizahl soldiers.”
I still didn’t understand. “Why would you leave Nizahl in the first place? Sefa, your stepfather is the High Counselor.”
The effect on Sefa was instant. Her eyes went dim and vacant. The luster drained from her face. So thoroughly blank did she look that I wanted to snatch my words back.
Marek moved, blocking my view of Sefa. Hostility rolled off him. “How do you know about the High Counselor?”
Having this conversation at the edge of the river, where anyone could sneak up behind us, wreaked havoc on my nerves. “The Nizahl Heir said you were wanted for assaulting and robbing the High Counselor.” I withheld the reason he had shared the information with me. They would believe I had succumbed to the Heir’s offer simply to save them.
Marek used both hands to scrub his face. “He said nothing else?” I couldn’t mistake the undercurrent of suspicion in his question.
“What else should he have said?”
The golden-haired fugitive lowered his hands. His mouth twisted bitterly, and I braced myself. Marek could be incredibly vicious when it suited him. “Less than two weeks, and you already talk like him.”
My shoulders went stiff. “What do you mean to imply, Marek?”
“Sylvia.” Sefa interrupted the sharp insult I’d planned to hurl at Marek. Other than the tightness in her expression, she appeared mostly restored from the mention of the High Counselor. “I can explain later. But please, come with us. Let us help you.”
I massaged my temples. “Do you believe me resigned to my own fate? If Felix didn’t find me, the Nizahl Heir would.” I thought of the Mufsids and Urabi. His determination to catch them outweighed his commitment to his own father’s law. “He is a devoted hunter.”
And you are determined to exist only as prey, Hanim murmured. Complacency is spelled with the letters of your name… Sylvia.
Sefa refused to accept defeat. “There are places we heard about during our travels. Lands lost to the mountains and Essam, beyond the reach of any hunter. They are only rumors, but—”
“Sefa,” I sighed.
“Listen to me!”
My neck prickled. I spun around, but it was too late. Vaun tackled Marek to the ground. Ren caught Sefa, pulling her back against him with a dagger at her throat.
Arin materialized from the dark arch of trees, hands tucked behind him. “If she won’t listen, I certainly will.”
Marek hurled a filthy epithet at the Heir, words choking off when Vaun slammed his face into the ground.
“Get off them!” I cried out. I rushed forward, but Sefa’s yelp as Ren’s dagger dug into the line under her jaw halted me in my tracks. I whirled on Arin. “They have nothing to do with this!”
“Considering they’ve been bumbling around the woods in search of you since the waleema, I would have to disagree.”
“You can’t harm them. We have an agreement!”
In my periphery, I saw Marek stop struggling to stare at me.
“We do.” Arin’s attention moved beyond me, assessing our surroundings. “They will be kept in a secure facility in Nizahl until the Alcalah is over. They can irritate my soldiers to their hearts’ content from there.”
“No,” Sefa whispered. Ren’s arm went around her midsection as her knees gave out. Pure terror splashed across her face. “Please, please, no. He’ll find me. He can go wherever he likes, access any building. He’ll kill Marek!”
“You bastard,” Marek spat. Vaun purpled, and the crack of his fist against Marek’s jaw echoed in the dark wood. He raised his fist again, and Sefa screamed as Marek’s head hit the earth.
Tendrils of agony snaked from my cuffs. “Stop!” I shouted.
They would die. They would be put into a wagon for Nizahl and never reach their destination. And I would have no way of knowing.
My fingers curled against the pressure swelling in my veins.
Marek spit blood directly onto Vaun’s face. The hotheaded fool was going to get himself killed, and the only person who could stop Vaun seemed disinclined to intervene.
“Sylvia!” Sefa shrieked.
The ground shook. Overhead, a flock of birds left their roost in a burst. The pressure lessened on my cuffs. This time, the surge of magic was cleaner. Less agonizing as it slammed around, seeking an exit.
This time, some of it succeeded.
Ren shouted as he was catapulted backward, falling into Hirun with a splash. The current eagerly swept him away. Vaun’s muscles locked, though his eyes still darted around in confusion. Marek shoved him aside, and the guard keeled over easily. My empty stomach contracted.
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.