The more important consideration, of course, was the teeth. They would sink through Arin and rip him apart.
Good! Hanim shouted.
I snapped my fingers, and the creature slowed.
It didn’t freeze, but the air congealed around it, making movement heavy and cumbersome. I had less than a minute before it broke through. My mount bolted, following Arin’s riderless, fleeing horse.
“Hold it as long as you can.” Arin withdrew a circular object from his boot. A compass, maybe?
He removed his gloves. “If your magic fails, run. Do not look back or react to anything behind you. Get to the barrier above the tunnels. The Hound will not be able to cross.”
“What about you?” I demanded. Ivory claws twitched in midair. Thirty seconds.
The object unclasped and extended, tiny metal spikes stabbing outward from each side of the two flat disks.
“This will hurt,” Arin said, and clasped his bare hand with mine.
The reaction was immediate. My magic roared toward the surface of my skin, pounding against my cuffs. The agony of the Relic Room renewed. My magic stripped me to the bone from the inside out.
Arin’s grip turned crushing, and if it weren’t for the monster a foot away, a different fear might have taken priority.
My hold on the creature shattered.
Arin surged forward just as the creature’s enormous claws swung, shoving his arm into its mouth. Had he lost his mind?
When I threw my magic out this time, it was stronger. I forced the creature’s jaw open while Arin-—who had clearly suffered a bout of insanity—pushed the object into the roof of the monster’s mouth. Nearby, a boulder burst into flinty shards, and branches rained down on us from the quaking trees.
For once in your accursed life, behave! I shouted at my magic.
The creature swiped at Arin and snarled. “Move back!” I screeched.
My magic wavered. Arin snatched his arm just as the creature’s teeth clamped together. The object seemed to have confused it. It shook its head hard. Trying to dislodge the obstruction.
I tried to hurl a faraway log at it. My magic nudged the log, uninterested, and chose to explode another boulder.
The creature’s red eyes skipped past Arin and narrowed on me.
You should recognize when a creature has been sent after you by now, Hanim said. This isn’t random.
I stared at the beast without blinking. “Wait,” I told Arin. “Don’t move.”
He leapt to his feet, clearly intending to ignore me. Not this time. I pushed my magic toward him, and the Commander found himself stuck.
“Sylvia!” His eyes widened, fixed on the creature advancing toward me. “Go!”
If I was wrong, this was going to be an embarrassing way to die.
I reached for the creature’s head, carefully framing its massive maw between my hands. Arin made a smothered noise, but the creature didn’t dive for my flesh. It sat back on its haunches and panted.
Eyes made of the same bloodred jewels composing its jagged body held mine.
“Can you see me?” I whispered. A single Jasadi could not enchant a creature like this to carry their bidding, see through its eyes… this was the work of several Jasadis. Powerful ones.
“I don’t understand. Are you trying to kill me or contact me?”
Steeling my nerves, I maneuvered my arm past its teeth and found Arin’s object adhered to the roof of its mouth. I traced its edges. “Allow me to introduce myself properly,” I murmured, audible to the creature and its masters only. “I am Sylvia, a village ward and chemist’s apprentice. I cannot be recruited, and I will not be intimidated.”
A clasp clicked, and the object tightened. Arin hadn’t activated the switch. I almost felt sorry for the wretched creature. As soon as the magic keeping it alive extinguished, it would return to the dust from which it came.
“The time of our meeting is near, my friends, but here is a taste of what is to come.”
I pressed the switch.
The creature howled, tearing a strip from my tunic. I stumbled back as it writhed, tossing its head from side to side. Its front legs buckled on another mournful howl.
When it stopped kicking, lying still and pitiful in the dirt, I dared to venture closer. Its paw twitched, and a flash of white drew my gaze. A piece of parchment had fallen from its kicking limbs.
“It’s dead,” Arin said, startling me. He crouched, pulling the object out of the creature’s mouth. He twisted the sides in opposite directions, and the spikes disappeared. He stayed down, assessing its bejeweled corpse. I gave him my back and unfolded the note. It was written in Resar. I scanned the words, heart beating fast. There was no mention of my true name. I passed it to Arin.
He read it aloud. “We offer you here a display of our power. United, we can raise Jasad from the ashes and bring war to those who would see us exterminated. Do not trust the others. The enemies of Jasad begin from within.” His thumb grazed the bottom of the parchment, where a kitmer’s wings flared up on each side. “This is the Urabi’s seal.”
The enemies of Jasad begin from within. Did they mean Hanim or the Mufsids? How deep had the Mufsids infiltrated before the Blood Summit? Maybe all the awful events Arin described were perpetuated through the Mufsids. Incompetence was an easier crime to attach to my grandparents than corruption.
I craned my neck for our escaped horses. “We need to go.”
Arin tucked the note into his pocket, examining the vast wilderness around us. “They must have found out a member of the Mufsids made contact with you and kept watch over the road to Mahair.”
I cast a nervous glance around the woods. They could still be nearby.
Arin bent to retrieve his gloves and winced. Barely perceptible, and on most I would have ignored it, but Arin wincing was equivalent to a dozen soldiers screaming. He favored his right side, where the Hound had slashed at him.
“What did you say about martyrs, again?” I asked. “Are you angry because I used my magic on you? You passed through it in half a minute.”
He put on his gloves, content to pretend I didn’t exist. The fabric at his right side was matted, slightly darker than the rest.
I threw my arms up. “If you want to quietly bleed for the next hour, it is not my place to stop you. But don’t expect me to drag you to the tunnels if you faint!”
He paused. “I wouldn’t faint.”
“I know you are the mighty immortal man, impervious to the woes of us commoners. If it would behoove Your Highness to allow me to dress your injury—why, I can’t express how honored—”
“Fine.” Arin scowled. “Unless your magic includes secret physician abilities, I am not confident you won’t do more damage.”
“You’ve injured me.” I put a hand to my heart. “Somehow, I’ll find the strength to live another day. You may not, and I have little desire to be implicated for the Nizahl Heir’s murder without the actual pleasure of murdering you. Remove your vest, please. I promise to protect your virtue.”