His hair is scraped back off a mottled, scarred face, and what looks like fresh blood spatters stain his neck and clothing. He has to be someone important—the leader maybe?—and from the ruthless look of him, is not someone to be crossed. I must have been gawking for too long, because a pair of piercing eyes narrow at me, his throat bobbing and making the welt undulate like a juicy slug. My palms prickle with heat, but I stifle them with brute force. The last thing I need is for my body to go into starlight mode right now.
But I must look desperate instead of curious, because after a moment, he reaches toward the belt at his waist and chucks something at me. I catch it bare-fisted as he stalks off without another word. My body slumps with relief as I hurry out of the cell.
That was close. Too fucking close.
My eyes dip to the object in my palm, and I suck in a convulsive breath at the glass vial full of Jade. Sands, it’s mesmerizing. Hastily, I pocket the vial and continue my search for Roshan and Aran. They have to be here. Theyhaveto.
But I’m starting to lose hope as I walk past cell after cell with no sign of them. This entire area is a neat maze of cages. Inside some ofthem, I’ve seen a half dozen prisoners from different cities. The one commonality is that they’re all stoned. A few of them are in withdrawal, scratching themselves bloody as I’d started to do and clawing at the bars, desperate for more. I cringe as I peer into one cell to see a desiccated body lying in a pool of its own excrement. Whatever it is, it’s dead. And the smell is worse than anything I’ve encountered so far. Holding the back of my hand to my nose, I hurry past, losing hope with each step. I have no concept of how much time has passed.
Maybe they’ve already been sold.
Or maybe they’re dead.
“No,” I mutter fiercely. They’re still alive. I have to believe that.
I hold on to my hope as I move onward to locked rooms with small windows in the doors and nearly collapse with relief as I find Aran in the second-to-last one. His eyes are closed and his complexion is sallow, but his chest is rising with each shallow breath. In desperation, I peek in the last room, but it’s empty. I scour the space, searching for any sign that Roshan might have been there at some point. But there’s nothing—nothing but a grated floor, slick with congealed blood. I don’t know how fresh it is or even if it’s his. But deep down, instinct tells me that he was here. Maybe it’s the phantom scent of bergamot lingering in the stale air.
Or maybe I’m imagining it so that I don’t crack into a million pieces.
Aran. Help Aran. He’s still alive.
Smothering my pain, I use my key to enter Aran’s cell.
“Aran, it’s me, Suraya,” I whisper, shaking him. “Can you hear me?” His eyes flutter open and focus on me for an instant without recognition before rolling back into his head. Tucking the Scav’s goggles atop my head, I shake him again. “Wake up. Where’s Roshan? Did you see him?”
“More,” he moans.
“Wake up.”I’m less gentle with my third shake, grabbing him roughly by his arms. He, too, is dressed only in a loin cloth coveringhis lower extremities, but I don’t care about his state of undress. “What happened to Roshan? Where is he?”
“He went.”
“Where?” I ask urgently. He closes his eyes, slumping out of my hold. “Is he dead?” I hesitate for a moment, and then I slap him. Hard.
“Jade... more... please,” he begs.
“There is no more. You need to wake up and tell me where they took him!”
But it’s no use—he’s under, lost in the seductive grip of the addictive hallucinogen. Hoping I don’t kill him or fry his brain, I place my hands on either side of Aran’s temples like the crone had done to me. I have no runes or magi skills. I only have my will and the power of my magic.
“Please don’t die.” I whisper up a prayer to Vena and the stars as tiny white-hot sparks leap between my palms, and I envision my magic flowing into Aran’s head and spreading through him. Cleansing him. Exorcising the green demon in his blood.
Aran’s body seizes, the ultramarine tattooed runes along his cheekbone growing bright, and then he goes scarily still for a breathless moment before bolting upward. He spears me with wild eyes, hands curled into fists and poised to attack, but no sound leaves his open mouth. Nothing in his demeanor says he knows who I am. Stars, did I break him?
I raise my palms slowly. “Hey, it’s me, Suraya. Do you know who you are?”
“Aran Sattari,” he answers after a long moment, delayed recognition flaring in his eyes. “Why are you dressed like that? What did you do?” He scrabbles at his temples with a soft groan. “I feel like I got hit by godsdamned lightning.”
“You kind of did,” I reply, and wiggle my fingers. “You were high on Jade and I burned it out with my magic. Listen, we don’t have much time. Do you know what happened?”
“They had you.” He winces, rubbing his head. “We surrendered, and after that, I don’t remember much.” He stares down at his half-clothed body. “They drugged us?”
I nod. “Where’s Roshan?”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “There was a scuffle, then a Scav with an awful voice said to take him for purging.”
Fuck!Bile fills my throat. What does that mean? “We need to find him now!”
Aran nods and shivers weakly, his shoulders shuddering from the aftereffects of the Jade, and I chuck my second weapon at him.
