“Well, at least let me up so I can see then,” I say.
Her magic relents, and I’m able to push myself up to balance precariously on the saddle. It doesn’t help—I’m much too short for it to make much of a difference—but her horse decides at that moment to rear. With a screech, we both go tumbling to the ground. I brace for impact, taking the fall on my back and rolling out of the way of the horse’s hooves. My magic assuages the bruised area immediately, and then I am up and running before I can think twice.
“Sura! Wait!”
Just in case she decides to reel me back in with her magic, I throw off the metal vest and keep running. Admittedly, getting rid of my protective armor isn’t the best course, but that’s a problem for future me, because current me clearly didn’t anticipate a giant serpentine body tumbling from the sky in my direction. I whirl to evade it, but it’s much too late. I lift my dagger and send out a desperate plea to the goddess of time or the wind gods, only to feel nothing as everything goes preternaturally still.
The wind, the sounds of battle... the world halts.
And then restarts.
Holy shooting stars, didtimejust stop?
Thank Zora! And the twins of wind, Vara and Vati!
Shadows writhe around me as the body of the king coalesces between the beast and me. His magic is terrifying to behold as it surrounds the creature in a maelstrom of onyx flames. The basilisk screams, its rooster-like features and feathered plumage melting into its multihued gray and green scales. Gods, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and so devastatingly macabre in my life.
Look away, Suraya!the king roars in my head.
But I’m utterly frozen as a jeweled, kaleidoscopic stare wreathed in violet flames slams into my eyes. In a single heartbeat, I face death. I can taste it on my tongue: the vicissitude of the grave. The emptiness of the void reaches for my soul to pluck it like a flower as Ris croons his welcome in the space where time ends. Magic rears up inside of me in a tsunami of rage, my cuffs glowing in instant response. But nothing—not even the dark power suppressing me—can hold the tide back. My simurgh screams, the edges of my skin glowing with power as my runes ignite, rolling over my skin in an undulating wave.
My magic becomes a mirror, a shimmering surface.
In my mind’s eye I see the basilisk catch sight of itself and give a massive shudder. It feels like peace... like relief.Thank you, Starkeeper.The whisper comes on the wind like a measure of song. Otherworldly power yields to my simurgh, who tilts her head in regal salutation as the basilisk curls into itself and exhales a death rattle.
May Ris bless you in the next life,she tells it.
Those purple flames in its eyes dim as it dies with a sigh.
The glow of my runes fades as my magic is absorbed back into my body, and Darrius’s unreadable face comes into view. I can see him fighting for calm, sensing how close his manticore is to the surface. Is it because I was in danger? Lines of tension gather around his gold-sheened eyes and flattened mouth, as we’re interrupted by a slew of cheers and hollers. Ani rides up, but the irritation in her eyes tells me I’ll get an earful from her later.
A handsome and very large tattooed man with red hair and pale skin descends a horse and walks toward us. He stops briefly to greet Ani, and their exchange is quick before he halts in front of me. His tattoos are of animals in battle and strange alchemical symbols, and gold torcs at his collarbones are inlaid with turquoise gems. His curved pickax is wet with blood as he arrogantly studies me from head to toe. “I am Rais Azes. You will come to Chamros.”
I stare back at him, refusing to be intimidated by him or his demands. “Are you telling me or asking me?”
Blue eyes gleam with interest as he reaches for my hand. “Your Starkeeper magic is needed to save our herds from the rot.”
Frowning, I step backward, out of his reach, but it doesn’t deter him as he presses forward.
A second horde warrior, this one female with similar tattoos and thick blond hair that glows against her light skin, approaches on horseback and leaps off her horse before it comes to a full stop. Like the man, she’s tall and splattered in blood, and scrutinizes me with curiosity. “I am Raissa Karânî. He’s right. You must help us—” She reaches out toward me, and I flinch, my simurgh swelling with aggression beneath my skin. In warning?
“Don’t touch her.” The growl comes from the king, who looks like he’s going to go on a slaughtering spree. He glowers at both Aspacana horde leaders with the terror of death in his pitch-black eyes.
The beautiful raissa doesn’t bend, only stiffens and then smiles. “Then I invoke the Gauntlet of Mithral and exhibition tournament to honor the esteemed Starkeeper on our lands.”
“A wonderful idea,” Azes exclaims immediately.
My stomach swirls with confusion. I glance over at Ani, considering she knows so much about the clans and their cultural traditions, but her expression is blank. What is this Gauntlet? I only know that Mithral is the god of the sun and spiritual fire. Perhaps this is some celebratory custom? I wait for Darrius’s reply, but before the king can speak, a shout goes up.
A rider races toward us, an unconscious body draped across the saddle in front of him. He dismounts, and I catch sight of spiky green hair before her beloved face comes into view. I slump to my knees in complete and utter shock. Sands on fire, it can’t be.
But it is...
Laleh.
Chapter Twenty-Four
My best friend is sitting up and eating soup when I burst into her room two days later, having just received word from the healer that she is finally awake. For a moment, a faintly putrid smell greets me, like something is rotting in the room, but it disappears as soon as it had come.
