But then, I hear the slight whoosh of an object and register a small green dart sticking out of the side of Laleh’s neck. Before I can yell, or even duck out of the way, a sharp sting pierces me in the same spot. Within seconds, my limbs feel numb as some kind of nerve paralysis invades my bloodstream.
I know that my magic will sluggishly clear out whatever toxin it is, but Laleh isn’t so lucky. In slow motion, I see and hear her head crash into the wood of the table as she collapses. I realize how extremely vulnerable I am when I try to cry for help and no sound comes out.
One by one, all my senses start to shut down. My hands remain useless in my lap, and I can do nothing as I feel my limp body start to slump. Desperate, I will my magic to heal me faster so I can fight, scream, or do anything but just lie helpless.
Use the bond, call for the king,my simurgh says.
Darrius!
But there’s a strange wall between us. I feel it like a pulsing obstruction, a barrier of some kind refracting the projected thought back to me. It’s not on my end but the king’s. It feels foreign, like it doesn’t belong... like someone has created a mental blockade.
But what psionic mage here has the power to do that to theking? And who would even dare to mentally attack him? Unless...
Could Darrius himself have done this?
Vivid images of the beautiful Zahre and the king fill my head, visions of them tangled together, her body undulating over his. What in the ever-loving stars? I don’t know where the horrible hallucinations have come from, but they’renotmine. Despite his many flaws, Darrius has not lied about the Karkad woman.
Recognizing my weakness with my mental walls down, especially with a powerful psionic magi in the mix, I slam them back up. My simurgh is enraged.You are the Starkeeper. No mental magic is more powerful than ours. Break through it, Suraya!
I try to no avail, feeling as though I’m being pushed underwater. I make one last-ditch effort, reaching for the azdahas, knowing their otherworldly senses won’t be compromised by any magi.
Razulek! Indira!If you can hear me, we need you. Darrius and I are in trou—
But then something smashes into the back of my skull and pain explodes, my plea breaking off abruptly. I might be the Starkeeper, but I’m still housed in a castle made of mortal flesh and blood.
My eyes roll back in my head as oblivion strikes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It seems like an eternity until the toxins finally start to flush from my system. My eyelids flutter open to flashes of light. I try to touch the back of my head where there’s still a dull throb, but my arms are tied. I can smell the metallic odor of blood, however... a lot of it. Mine?
My body jostles uncomfortably as I take stock of my position and realize I’m moving in a covered cart, with my hands and legs bound. I listen, the sound of horses accompanying the crunch of the cart wheels. A gag is tied over my mouth, but I inhale through my nose, scenting salt on the damp wind.
Painfully, I shift upward, peering through the gap in the back. A sparkling blue horizon greets me; we’re on a cliff, and I can hear the sound of gulls and the crash of waves far below. Where am I, and how did I get here in this wagon?
Confusion drains away to be replaced by fury.
Someone fucking took me! Andhitme! And... I glance around the cart, panic rising. Laleh isn’t here.
Darrius!I scream mentally, half expecting the same barrier from earlier, but it isn’t there.
Suraya, where are you?His internal voice sounds panicked even as relief fills me.Indira came to me, told me what you said before you disappeared.
Not sure. I see the ocean. Someone captured me.
Did they hurt you?
I’m alive.
Rage crackles down the bond.I will find you.
Darrius had been right to worry. I had not expected a brazen abduction during the feast, when all acts of war are supposedly forbidden. And now, I’m without a weapon, trussed up like a goose, and my magic is restrained. I am completely exposed and vulnerable.
I wiggle toward the opening at the back and wince. Rolling from a moving cart is going to hurt—but better than the alternative. And it’s not like I haven’t done it before.
I grit my teeth, roll to the edge, and brace for pain.
“She’s awake,” a raspy voice says, as the wagon stops abruptly, but it’s low-pitched and distorted somehow.
