I can’t help the ripple of sensation at the wordlove. In the version of the world he’s talking about, maybe there’s a chance for a prince and a commoner to find happiness.
***
I’m in a state of not quite dozing, lulled by the rhythm of the movement, when Roshan makes a clicking noise with his tongue. The horse instantly slows to a walk, and my sore behind immediately wakes me. The outpost must be close.
“Get ready,” Roshan tells me. He slows the horse even more with a soft sound and brackets his arms on either side of me as a small garrison looms into view ahead of us.
He settles his fingers on the reins as he directs the stallion towardthe rear of the fort. Predictably, as we approach, a small unit of armed soldiers snap into position, loaded crossbows pointed right at us. I can’t see if there are runes on the arrows in the darkness, but it would be foolish to assume there aren’t.
“Who goes there?” a voice shouts. “Identify yourself.”
Roshan clears his throat. “Ro Sattari, first division.” I blink at the ease with which he offers the false name.
“Approach,” the voice replies after a protracted beat, and the men at the speaker’s back shift into a nonlethal stance. Roshan exhales audibly into my ear.
I keep my face neutral but say under my breath, “How do they know we’re not a threat?”
“Aran vouched for us. Sattari is his last name.”
My thoughts are whirling in confusion. Why would Aran speak on our behalf? And here at a random outpost of all places? Suddenly, the ease with which Roshan navigates the Dahaka nags at me, not just here, but also in Nyriell. “Roshan, why would he do that?Whendid he do that? What aren’t you telling me?”
Behind me, I feel his chest expand and contract with a deep breath, and then another, before he answers. “Aran is my cousin.”
I freeze and jerk my head around. “He’s what?”
“My cousin.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “That’s why I’m known to some of them as Ro Sattari. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
My stomach dives. Did he not confide in me because he doesn’t trust me? That hurts more than it should. I frown, wanting to ask more, but he’s dismounting, easily swinging to the ground and holding a hand up toward me. My legs feel like jelly as I slide down and stumble, steadied by Roshan’s arm. Wincing, I rub my knuckles against my thighs, attempting to return some feeling to them.
Roshan peers at me, and I shove the tangled snarls out of my face and attempt to tame the escaping strands.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He hands me a low-brimmed cap purloined from the saddlebag. “Wear this. You’re too noticeable.”
Without argument, I tuck my hair into a bun under the proffered cadet’s cap and pull the brim low. Once it’s in place, Roshan walks toward the men, leading the horse and keeping me slightly behind him. At the checkpoint, he hands the reins to one of the guards, but not before patting the stallion’s foam-streaked neck with affection. “See that he’s well fed and watered.”
“Yes, sir,” the man replies.
Roshan pulls a medallion from his pocket. It’s different from the ones we were both given before, but I don’t have a chance to study it as he passes it to a second guard and then slips it back into his cloak when it’s returned. The guards move aside, and I let out the tiniest breath of relief when no one asks me to identify myself. Feigning confidence, we walk toward the entrance.
Standing there is a portal runecaster—one who doesn’t look friendly, even if he’s on the side of the Dahaka. But Roshan doesn’t speak, so I don’t, either. He simply nods briskly to the man, and the runecaster begins to chant, the jadu shard in his palm brightening as a pool of iridescence forms. I can’t keep the awe from my face—I’ll never get over how beautiful portals are up close.
And now, I see there’s a similarity between its blinding glow and mine. For a moment, I wonder ifIcan direct the shard’s magic to portal us to Coban instead. If the power inside of me and the power of these crystals are one and the same, theoretically, I could. But as I’ve learned the hard way with Aran, theoretical knowledge isn’t always practical action. I could incinerate everyone here in a moment. And I’d rather not have more blood on my hands.
Silently, I follow Roshan through the portal.
Chapter Nineteen
The crowded supply post of the Indraloka is a hubbub of activity, despite the lateness of the hour, with men unloading crates of weapons, fuel, and food from nearby wagons. Overseers bellow back and forth. Despite my worry that we’re going to get instantly arrested, Roshan and I exit the portal without anyone paying much mind and begin to weave our way through a high maze of stacked cartons inside a massive warehouse.
I almost slam into him when he comes to a sudden halt. “What’s wrong?” I whisper.
He curses under his breath. “We’re on the wrong side. We need to be all the way over there.” He points to the far end of the space—one that’s crawling with soldiers, and any one of them could be a spy for Javed.
My palms tingle as if alerting me to their presence. I raise them uncertainly. “I can try—”
“We can’t risk that.” He steps closer, and a muscle jerks in his cheek, as if he’s reconsidering using my power to blast our way through, but then he shakes his head. “No, it’s too dangerous. Wait here, I’ll be back.”
