I reached for the edge of the cliff, missing by inches. One more swing, one more pull. A light touch at my wrist startled me from my destination. Essiya materialized in front of me, and we clung to the same rope. Kitmer-black eyes bored into mine. “All your choices require sacrifice. The question is, what are you willing to lose?”
Essiya released the rope, falling into the gloom. My magic slowed with her disappearance, and a cry tumbled from my lips at the renewed sensation in my palms. With a guttural shout, I hauled myself up the last foot, hooking my arm over the cliff’s edge. I plunged the dagger into the dirt and dragged myself onto solid land. As soon as my knees were on the earth, I crawled away from the sheer drop and discarded the dagger. My blood left smears on the hilt.
A beat. I exhaled, tearing the cloth from behind my head. My magic receded more, exposing me to a riot of agony.
Countless lanterns seared into my eyes. Thousands of faces moved in my periphery, but none the one I wanted. The gathered masses gaped at me.
“The Nizahl Champion joins the Orban and Omal Champions in the second trial!” the announcer boomed.
The crowd exploded.
The cheering was muted, the spectators’ colors reduced to moving dots on a rapidly darkening landscape. A tall figure appeared from the frenzied dots. “Sylvia?” Arin called. His low voice was the best sound I had ever heard. The Commander swore. “Get the canvas!”
I stitched together the words I needed and held up my palm. “Sap,” I croaked. “For twenty minutes.”
The last of my magic dissipated, and I sagged into Arin’s chest. The Nizahl Heir’s arms went around me, and I distantly registered that he was shouting, but I had ceased to care. He was warm and strong, and he smelled like the rain that never fell in Ayume.
I breathed Arin in, my head slumping over the crook of his arm as Ayume’s air finally put me to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I would very much appreciate it if you could stop trying to kill me,” Sefa said when I woke up. The physician jerked in the chair, then rushed to my side. My palms were wrapped tightly, but the worst sensation was the foul taste in my mouth. I was still in my quarters in the pavilion, so I couldn’t have slept long. A day at most. I curled my toes and stretched, relieved when my muscles complied. I must have bled out the poison faster than my body absorbed it.
“You know, I expressed the same sentiment to Ayume,” I said, slapping aside the physician’s hands and sitting upright. Affronted, the medic stomped to his bag and bustled from the room. “Where’s Marek?”
“He went patrolling with some of the soldiers,” Sefa replied. “For someone who hates the Nizahl army as vigorously as Marek does, he certainly is capable of endearing himself to soldiers.”
I grinned at Sefa until distress crawled across the other girl’s expression. She probably thought I had suffered some mental affliction.
“You and Marek will not enter Nizahl. I made certain of it,” I said. “Vaida will be displeased, but I have an idea to make sure she doesn’t retaliate.”
“Made certain of it how?” On cue, her brows pinched, forming Sefa’s six columns of stress in her forehead.
“I did not slaughter any squalling babes, Sefa,” I said. Timur was a fully grown adult when I drowned him. “What matters now is you and Marek can stay in Omal after the second trial without needing to accompany us to Nizahl.”
Sefa, piecing together the Lukub Champion’s death and her newfound freedom from Nizahl, did not share in my excitement. “And how exactly do you plan to keep Vaida from following through on her threat? Forgiveness is not a virtue shared among many royals.”
“Her seal,” I said. Seeing Vaida’s ring open the doors to her disturbing underground room had planted the seed. My deal with Arin was well and good, but no plan was complete without a contingency. “I will need your and Marek’s help to steal the Sultana’s seal at the Omal palace. We can use it to negotiate our safety.”
A knock at the door interrupted Sefa’s response. She straightened, her petrified gaze colliding with mine.
“Enter!” I shouted. “Sefa, what is it?”
The door swung open, and my neck pricked. Eerie foreboding arrived seconds before I heard his voice.
“Our Champion wakes at last,” Supreme Rawain said.
The axis of my world ground to a scraping halt. A quiet shatter echoed in my head.
A man with a raven-headed stick sits near a woman drowning in her Nizahlan garb. An older lady with soft brown eyes keeps glancing at me and then away. Teta Palia said she was the Queen of Omal, and I wasn’t to speak to her. At the other end of the oak table, Gedo Niyar hands me a sesame-seed candy. Teta puts her hand onto my knee to stop my restless legs from kicking. I want to go home. Dawoud said he would take me to Har Adiween so I can climb the dancing trees. I glance around the table. Something important is being discussed, probably. I go back to staring at the raven-headed stick. I wonder if I would be allowed to hold it.
The man in violet and black catches my eye. He winks.
The table explodes.
Dangling from the rope in Ayume was nothing, nothing compared to the war waging inside me. My cuffs became shackles of fire around my wrists, damming the magic baying for violence in my blood. Furious tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. Iron filled my mouth as I bit my bottom lip. I wasn’t ready.
I turned my head.
Thousands of Jasadis shadowed the Supreme. Their murky outlines warped, mournful, and folded into the scepter at his side.
My memory had done Supreme Rawain a disservice. Age had laid a conservative touch on his handsome features and powerful build. He was shorter than his son, but taller than me. Gray streaked the hair at his temple.
His eyes. The same unnatural shade that met mine the day I lost everything. The day he stole my world. As unblemished by the trappings of compassion or kindness as they had been at the Summit.
My bedridden state had one advantage; he would not question why I would not kneel, and I didn’t need to explain that I would sever my legs before I knelt to him.
Supreme Rawain strode into the room. Framed in the door, Arin’s indecipherable gaze followed his father.
“Well? How is she doing?” the Supreme asked.
The physician slunk back, clearing his throat. “Superbly, Your Highness. The venom has passed without ill effects, and the worst damage was to her palms.”
Rawain clapped his hands. “Wonderful. You gave us a fright, Sylvia. I’ll admit, I had reservations about Arin’s choice of a Champion, but you have certainly lived up to his vision.” He laughed, the sound sliding like viscous oil over my skin. “My son has been reluctant to introduce us. Worried I would intimidate you.” He raised his brows at an impassive Arin. “See? She’s of hardier stock.”
I shook with the effort of crushing my magic back. It struck over and over, lightning charring its fragile vessel. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I needed to speak. My teeth were stuck together, and I had the most terrible notion that they were protecting me from what might fly out of my mouth if I unhinged my jaw.