I hadn’t even known that Roshan was leaving Kaldari. I’m even more surprised that I haven’t been ordered to travel with him—but then again, Fomalhaut isn’t a threat to his rule. They’re his allies, considering the new Order of the Magi being established as a subsidiary of that house.
When Aran isn’t in court, he’s in Eloni and Veniar, supervising the magi temples, particularly the new ones built to honor Saru.
Rubbing my eyes, I close the thick book on the history of runes I’d been studying from the palace library, trying to decipher the symbols etched into my bracers. But the more I read, the more I have no idea how Aran was able to do all this. The suppression, punishment, and control runes are magic that I haven’t seen inanyof the books I’ve studied—this book is the dozenth I’ve read—and I’ve scoured the library. So the question ishowdidAranlearn them?
Frowning, I stroke my temples, turning my gaze back to Helena’s missive.
I still don’t trust her motives, but as each day passes, I lose more hope that I’ll ever get home or that I’ll ever be rid of these cuffs. One of the runes carved on their surfaces is a nullifying rune, which means it consistently dampens my natural magic and my connection to my simurgh. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been able to glean from my studies.
I suspect that Aran did that on purpose so I can’t build up my magical reserves, which again strikes me as magic that seems beyond his skills. They want me powerful enough to be used, but nottoopowerful that I might be able to circumvent the bracers. For a realm that has no magic, the insight seems frightfully circumspect. Is there another magi in Kaldari or any of the other cities who is even more adept with runes than Aran?
Someone is helping him,my simurgh muses—she loathes the cuffs as much as I do.
I think so, too. Butwho?
In a burst of determination and perverse rebellion, I finish my meal, burn Helena’s note in the hearth after memorizing the exact time and location of the rendezvous, and open the trunk at the foot of my bed. I pull out my old dark forest-green leathers emblazoned with the Aldebaran House crest. I haven’t worn them since I came back to Kaldari, not since I’d become part of the Imperial House... becomeRoshan’s.
A lump forms in my throat, and I scoff at my weakness. I trace the branching tree and the pair of scales on the chest plate as a jolt of sadness crashes into me.
Stars, I miss Coban. I miss my father’s laughter and Amma’s cooking. I miss the smell of her kitchens, and the tavern with all its varied guests. I miss spending lazy afternoons reading in my workshop. I miss being...me. The girl who’d run her own forge and crafted jadu daggers in secret. The girl who’d bested agodand lived to tell the tale. It doesn’t matter that I’m the Starkeeper now. Even without magic, I’d survived.
Fucking thrived.
I fold the leathers neatly beside me and then retrieve the dagger that’s resting on the bedside table. I run a finger down the flat of the blade and pause on the etchings near the hilt: the stars I’d engraved for me and the moon for my mother. The starburst is a unique rune of power I’d unintentionally created when I forged the dagger and that channeled my unique star magic.
An echo of something warms in my blood, and I feel a weak pulse as my entombed starlight responds to the rune. A faint glow illuminates the shiny blade but is gone before I can blink. This dagger has saved me in more ways than one... and it’s a symbol of where I’ve come from.
Who Iam: Suraya Saab, nobody’s sandsdamned damsel.
And Ineedto remember her.
After I dress in the still-supple leathers, I comb my hair into a high bubble tail. In the old days, warriors would add a diamond-shaped blade to the end of it, the ingenious style serving as a hidden weapon. I graze a fingertip over my silver-threaded locks before I tug on my boots and reach for the dagger, tucking it into the hidden sheath inside the calfskin. The blade is too big for the braid, but at least it’s some protection in case Helena shows her true colors. I can’t afford to be stupid. Whatever her intentions now, she has already tried to kill me once.
As I descend to the main floor of the palace, harried servants carrying trunks and scrolls rush past me to the outer courtyard, where a dozen horses and the royal carriages are waiting to ferry the king to the nearest portal. The sun is already descending so they’re cutting it close—with the threat of the Scavs, it’s smarter to travel in daylight.
Especially without me.
I fold my arms over my chest and watch, until my senses suddenly go haywire. Unfortunately, they haven’t gotten the message about not caring the exact second Roshan walks into a room. When the deeply familiar scent of him hits me like a blow, I try not to breathe as I strive for cool indifference.
“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” I ask without turning as the king comes to stand beside me.
“It’s for a day, or perhaps two at most,” he says.
I hate that the deep, resonant sound of his voice still affects me as much as the intoxicating scent of him does, though at least I hide that well. He stares straight ahead, hands clasped behind his back, tall and forbidding. His eyes don’t meet mine. Maybe he’s afraid of what I’ll see there.
“You don’t require my presence this time?” I ask.
“No.” His answer is short and quiet. Clem and Hamid gallop into the courtyard, both dressed in full Kaldarian armor.
“They’re going with you?”
At first I think he isn’t going to answer, but then he nods. “The Scavs have grown bolder. A few raiding parties have been attacking portals in droves to steal the crystals used by the runecasters.”
Bolder? Or more organized under a new leader?I wonder. Not that he has seen fit to inform me. I’ve overheard enough chatter from the soldiers to put together that this so-called oracle is more of a threat than ever and is most certainly in league with the Scavs. But I’m sure the king has his enemies well in hand.
“Will you go to Coban next?” I ask, glancing up at him.
“Soon.” I didn’t expect anything but a nonanswer, so I don’t say anything. Eventually, Roshan turns, a keen stare scanning me from head to toe, not missing the old leathers. “Where are you off to?”
