I remember General Vogon telling me that Jade made men perfect soldiers—now they’re perfect soldiers who can’t die... because they’re already dead. The senseless loss of so many lives hurts my heart. And the Scavs are just the first to be sacrificed in the primary wave of Anahima’s war. The people of Oryndhr aren’t safe. And that’s not even counting the unchecked spread of the rot through the realms.
“How did you do it?”
She knows what I’m asking even before I finish. “Blood connects us all.”
Of course. The answer is usually the simplest.
My stomach sours. “So you want me to, what, let loose a plague on your own people? I can’t open a portal for an infected army, Anahima. And even if I could, I won’t.”
She glares at me, blue eyes pale as death. “You can and you will. And besides, who do you think let the rot in? That feral basilisk? The azdahas? The cattle? My father was all too eager to share his powers of necrosis. And men like Donnan were all too eager to spread it to the people instead of feeding them. He did it for money. He was useful.” She lets out an amused laugh. “I almost thought he would expose me that day in the throne room. Thank the gods I had the presence of mind to do a quick spell to keep him quiet.”
I remember Donnan’s face and the way he’d reached toward her.
“You let your brother kill him,” I say.
She spreads her hands wide. “He made his choice. Men are so predictable. Donnan, Masišta... my brother. So easy to control. Even that weakling Prince Javed was so desperate to have an azdaha of his own... The stupid fool died before he could offer to trade the wounded male for an egg as I suggested.”
I gasp at how deep her deception goes. “Youhanded Razulek over?”
Ani shrugs. “That stupid beast was meant to bemine,but he would not even look at me, as if I was too weak to be his rider.”
“They’re the oldest creatures in Endara, and when they pick their riders, it’s about what’s in their hearts. Clearly, he knew what was in yours wasn’t worthy. That’s why he didn’t choose you, Anahima.”
Her face hardens, mouth pulling into a sneer. “He deserved to be sent away. Even your silly Oryndhrian king—do you think his pathetic magi could even design the beast’s bracers withoutmyinstruction for those runes? It wasmyidea to use the king’s star-touched blood for yours.” She preens. “I am the blessed oracle, after all.”
Gods, I want to punch her in her smug face. “If you’re so all-powerful, why can’tyouopen a portal yourself?”
That earns me a hiss as if she doesn’t like being told she’s lacking in some way. “Are your ears painted on? I told you in the library—only a sovran in ergokinesis who can manipulate raw energy can open a portal across realms. It drains lesser magi, and I need to focus on executing my plans, not holding a portal open. And you, dear Starkeeper, have a well of power just waiting to be used.”
Therehasto be a way out of this. I have no doubt that Darrius has discovered my absence by now. There’s a strange feeling in my chest—a hollow that clenches from time to time—and I wonder if that’s him tugging on the bond. Regret fills me. If we had fully sealed the ritual with consummation, would that have made any difference?
I grind my molars. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
Rage ripples over her. “You’re being difficult.”
“Am I?”
She sneers. “Perhaps it is simply incentive you need. I can just as easily speed up the toxin that will eat away at your father’s organs as I can slow it down,” she says. “Don’t test me.”
I blanch. That’s the only breathing room out of any of this—Anahima has slowed the pace of deterioration, and if I cooperate, my father won’t die. Nor is he in pain. But that can change on her whim.
Our standoff is interrupted by the arrival of the king and his entourage. Now these faces I know. Aran’s expression immediately goes blank, but both Clem and Hamid, armed to the teeth, stare at me in surprise. Helena is also there, though my old nemesis looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks. Her once glossy hair is stringy and dull, and her face is gaunt. I shouldn’t feel pity for her, but I do. I’m not interested in her, however. I’m interested in the king who is staring at me with the strangest combination of yearning and hatred.
Dark purple mist swirls like poison in his eyes.
“Starkeeper, you look different,” he rasps in the voice that isn’t his. “Will she open the portal?” he asks Anahima.
She strolls over to Roshan, peering into his irises. “Hello, Father. How’s the host? Still kicking in there? Don’t worry, she will open it.” Ani smirks. “The Starkeeper will do as she’s told. And each time she fails, I will destroy a city, starting with her little desert oasis. So much innocent blood will be on your hands, Suraya.”
I feel myself start to shake as magic gathers inside of me. It would be so easy to kill them all in one fell swoop, to let my simurgh raze this entire palace to the ground—but there’s no guarantee that I can save my father if Anahima is dead. Although, can I incapacitate her somehow? Buy some time? Gods! What if I miscalculate and doom my father? Everyone else? But I can’t just stand here and do nothing!
Conflicted, I rub my chest at the heart chakra as that strange hollow feeling at the center intensifies, right as a massive shadow blots out the light overhead for the space of a prolonged wingbeat.
“Azdaha!” someone bellows from the courtyard.
Anahima’s face darkens with rage as she shoves me onto the upper terrace, a dagger at my throat. The king of Oryndhr follows, surrounded by his guard.
“Brother!” my captor cries.
