“Do I have something on my chin?” he asks.
Frowning, I look up at him only to see that he’s staring quizzically at me—and has noticed my fascination with his mouth. I release him in a hurry, my cheeks alight. “Oh, yes, you have a... um, a smudge of something below your lip.”
Roshan swipes at his face with his forearm and reaches for a towel from a nearby bench. He scrubs his face and tosses it around his neck. “Sorry. I told you I was filthy.”
No filthier than thoughts I have no business having.
“It’s fine,” I say, and smile brightly to cover my discomfort.
If only Laleh were here. She’d have had him, or any person, eating out of her palm and begging for more without breaking a sweat. Me? I’m breaking out in hives all over and can’t think past the fog of awkward panic in my brain. Then again, this isn’t about me and my ineptitude with another sex. It’s about Roshan and getting him out of his own head.
Focus, Suraya!Think of something, anything!
“Does Javed have more of those creatures?” I blurt out. “The azdaha?”
He stares at me with a blank expression for a moment, then reaches for his water and takes a long sip. “No,” he replies. “It was hard enough for him to get the one. It killed hundreds of soldiers, including the runemasters who brought it through a portal to Kaldari.”
“I thought you said it was a gift.”
His jaw hardens. “More like a stolen souvenir.”
Curious about the magic I’d felt from the creature, I press him further. “It came through a portal? From where?”
“Beyond our kingdom in the lands to the north,” he says, running the towel over his damp hair. “There are many more creatures out there. Griffins, manticores, basilisks, and chimeras, and they’re strong. The men manning the borders caught that azdaha because it was wounded and crashed into the cursed forest at the heart of the Barrin Mountains. The dearth of akasha here confused it.”
The Barrin Mountains are impassable, as far as I know, and the cursed forest is indeed cursed. Stories abound of people who’ve entered it and never returned. “So there’s magic there then?” I ask, the skin on my neck prickling. “There must be, if there’re other creatures like the azdaha, I mean.”
“Seems like it. Can you imagine a world where everyone has magic? Where akasha flows so plentifully across magical leylines that it’s as present as the air we breathe?”
“No.” I shake my head. Fingers of ice skate over my skin. “I sensed its power that day in the arena. The azdaha.”
“Even at its weakest, it’s powerful,” he murmurs in agreement. “I suspect that’s part of Javed’s future plan. Harnessing your Starkeeper energy to enslave more of those creatures. Invade the northern lands and even the ones across the seas. He’d rule all of Endara if he could. With you under his yoke, such a thing might very well be possible.”
The idea of magic being used in such a ruthless fashion makes me feel sick. The pain I’d felt from the azdaha had been excruciating. I can’t let that happen to me or to them. Despite my vow to understand my magic, I haven’t been able to test my star power since we arrived.
Unleashing it in the Indraloka is too risky.
But if I plan to make a stand, I’m going to need to learn.
Chapter Twelve
We arrive in Nyriell during a level four cyclone.
Even dressed in heavy protective gear, I feel the dust and wind battering my body. The thick breastplate, pads, undertunic, belted skirt, and boots, as well as a full mesh covering for my head, seem flimsy against the onslaught. Hunkering down, I tug against the raised collar of the undertunic, the mesh cap falling into a hood over my face. The material is coarse and strong, made with some kind of reinforced fabric. It scratches against my skin like roughened wool, but I’m grateful for it.
Within seconds, a dark, oily haze on the surface swarms us as if the scorching sun has lit the air on fire. The portal winks out behind us, and I can barely hear the shouts of the others over the roar of the gusts. Waves of crimson heat make the earth look like an undulating ocean of blood. It’s simultaneously scary and beautiful, but I blink through my protective goggles, wondering where all the buildings are. There’s nothing but rock and gravel as far as the eye can see.
“There’s no one here,” I shout to Roshan.
“This is the surface,” he roars through the wind. “We have to go down.”
Down?I see it then—the black seam of a fissure that some of the soldiers are lurching toward. At least that’s what it looks like. Onesecond, it appears to be rock; the next, I can see a visible crater. I squint behind the goggles. “What is that?”
“It’s an illusion. You’re supposed to only see rock, but the magic of the jadu must be disrupted by the storm.” Roshan’s hand reaches over to mine as the ground starts to shake with the force of the unstable surface conditions. Bits of sand and pebbles smash into our bodies, the wind howling in the distance like some kind of voracious monster, as we follow the soldiers.
“Why couldn’t we portal directly into the city?” I ask.
“Too unstable underground,” he replies. “The proximity to Droon means the volcanic bedrock interferes with the magic—which is why it’s a perfect hiding place for us.”
