I flinch at his unusual vehemence, more so when his fingers fall and tighten over my wrist. Despite the words being similar to his ones earlier, they don’t evoke the same feelings of warmth. The edge of anger feels more possessive than protective. But I have more pressing things to worry about than sifting through Roshan’s mercurial emotions, namely my family’s safety.
“Calm down, caveman,” I mutter, and ease myself out of his hold. “No one’s going anywhere until we can figure out how to defuse the situation. I’m the least exposed. My magic will protect me, so I can go in there and see what they want.”
“Suraya.”
I stare at Roshan. “Do you have a better idea? They’ll kill anyone else. What you three need to figure out is who leaked information. Barely anyone outside our inner circle and your war council in Kaldari knew that Coban would be our first stop or, even worse, that we would be remaining here overnight. All the cities of Oryndhr were told to prepare, but the order for the tour was only announced this week to the aldermen out of an abundance of caution. This assault wasplanned. These mercenaries are not disgruntled villagers. People in many cities hated the previous regime and were punished for it.”
The three of them exchange dark looks.
I don’t wait for Roshan’s assent before slipping around the side to the front and boldly banging on the door. I can hear his growl of displeasure, but with him, it’s always better to ask forgiveness than permission. He’d wrap me in wool if he could and tuck me away like a precious jewel. It would be sweet if we didn’t have any other option. But there aren’t enough soldiers to storm the tavern, and even if there were, the risk of innocents dying in the crossfire is too high.
“Open up!” I yell. “I’m not armed and here to talk!”
When the door cracks open, I walk in with both hands in the air to multiple weapons pointed at me. I’m not too concerned about those, but I am worried about the ones aimed at my father’s head. Aran’s, too; he’s crouched down beside my father, blood spilling down his cheek from a nasty cut on his temple. I scan the room, relieved to find Amma sitting in one corner with no sign of injury or fear on her face. She looks utterly furious.
I smile at her before staring down each of the men. More than double the five Clem had initially counted... and there could be more hiding.
“Who are you?” I ask them, trying to determine which one’s the leader.
One sneers, a man with a half-shaved head and long upper braid pointing a crossbow at my father. Him, then. “Where’s the false king?”
I lift my brows. “Thefalseking?” I echo. “He has a blood claim to the throne, and I seem to recall he’s the one who saved your homes, lands, and families from being destroyed by a usurper god who intended to yoke Endara into subjugation.”
“We have no quarrel with you, Starkeeper,” the aggressor says, though his voice is belligerent with skepticism. Stories of my power have traversed the land, but men out here haven’tseenit. Most of those who have are dead.
“But you see, if you have a quarrel with theking,you have one with me.” I pull a nearby chair out, flip it around, and straddle it. “Now, let’s be civil. I’m Suraya Saab. My father under your arrow is the owner of this tavern. Who are you, and what house are you from?”
I can hear his teeth grinding from where he stands. “I am Sandar of Eloni, House Regulus.” He points at a tall man with golden skin and a thick auburn beard. “Alderman Rubias of Eloni, House Antares.”
“Analderman, my stars, and you’re both far from home,” I say with an impressed expression. “What grievance do you have with King Roshan, pray tell, that you attack him in my home under my hospitality?”
“He’s a bastard,” the redhead grinds through his teeth, “and led the Dahaka. The rebellion stole from us for years. He’s untrustworthy and undeserving of the crown.”
I nod again. “Harsh words. But where were you during the battle of the capital? Where were all your men who find it so easy to prey upon unarmed villagers now? Does doing this—forcing people to their knees in their own homes—make you feel powerful?”
“Kill the bitch, Sandar, she’s nothing but a traitor, just like her king,” one of the other men growls from the side—a fox-faced grunt holding a glowing crimson mace.
Seeing me staring, he lets one of the red-hot points on the mace touch a hostage’s shoulder, making the poor man at his feet groan. It’s Cyrill, I realize, one of the tavern’s regulars and the man who had accompanied my father to the capital to save me from Javed. Cyrill is kneeling beside my former childhood nemesis, Simin, one arm around her quaking shoulders. They’d been dancing earlier in the tavern, with Simin flashing her pretty new engagement ring. Silent tears track down her cheeks.
I want to send them a reassuring look, but I don’t. I’m hoping to end this with the least amount of carnage possible, and even with the increased control I have developed in recent months, thanks to Aran’s tutelage, my magic can still be volatile.
Because, if I’m attacked, my simurgh will defend me at any cost—that is a certainty. She is waiting alertly under my skin, flexing her wings with a flick against my senses as if to assert she’ll never let anything happen to me.
“The Starkeeper is a lie,” someone else says from the back.
With a slow lift of my brows, I let my magic roll along my forearms, the runes there lighting up in silvery symbols and spirals as the akasha in my blood makes itself known.
“Parlor tricks!” Alderman Rubias says, his eyes full of suspicion and contempt. “The monarchy is spinning stories to control us, to control the houses and diminish our influence. The House of Antares was on the brink of exposing the Imperial House’s lies and the seed of their corruption.”
“By ‘seed’ you mean the dead Queen Morvarid?” I ask. “Because as far as I know, she was the unhinged magi resurrecting a dangerous god.”
His face twists at my sarcasm. “She was the prophet who meant to cleanse her house of the rot eating away at its very foundations,” he shouts, a fanatical tone to his voice that makes me stiffen. “She was to usher in a new age for those who served! Who still serve!”
My breath catches at the last. Suddenly, the situation becomes infinitely more dangerous. Nihilistic arcanists are unpredictable. We’d known that there would be pockets of Morvarid’s rabid supporters lingering throughout Oryndhr, especially in Eloni, but to be faced with them here in Coban is surprising. But it solidifies my suspicion that this incursion wasn’t by chance.
“I was there,” I say. “I knowexactlywhat the queen planned to do and how she intended to do it. She embodied the rot you speak of, and yet here you are, praising her. What is it you think you can do in her name now that she’s dead?”
He glares, and I can sense the darkness of his spirit, roiling within him. “Call in the false king. Tell him to surrender to his fate or we will execute everyone here, including your family.”
