Running from this calling is the biggest disgrace imaginable. An abomination in the eyes of the Sky Kingandthe Lady of the Sky. The one thing everyone can agree upon across every language and culture.
“Deserters,” Ghoa repeats, disdain dripping from each syllable. “And Temujin is the worst of them, the instigator. He fled from his post at Novesti a little over a year ago, leaving three hundred men to die at the hands of the Zemyans, and he encourages other warriors to do the same. And they follow him because he claims to be Goddess-touched. Can you imagine? Though there’s nothing divine about stealing cannons and raiding supply wagons, luring warriors away and rescuing condemned criminals. Scores of shameful deeds that must be stopped.”
I finger the holey hem of my robe, unable to look up. BecauseIam one of those condemned criminals. Another shameful deed. Ghoa doesn’t even recognize her offense. She continues muttering and wringing the gray fabric through her hands. “They spit on their duty to our country and king, and I will not stand for it.”
“Surely you and the Kalima can capture Temujin and put an end to this? It should be easy for such highly trained warriors to track down one boy and a handful of Shoniin.”
“You would think so….” Ghoa says, viciously tightening her ponytail. And suddenly it all makes sense.Thisis why she’s back in Sagaan.He,Temujin, is the reason she’s returned.I have a special mission,isn’t that what she said?
“You are tasked with capturing him,” I say. A statement, not a question.
“I am.” She stares across my chamber for so long, I’m certain the topic is dead. It’s official business, after all, and I’m no longer privy to such things. That’s why I nearly tumble to the floor when she slams the cloth against the trunk and turns. Her icy breath burns across my cheek. “And you, Enebish, are going to help me.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
IWAIT FORGHOA TO LAUGH.
She’s toying with me. Delivering the cruelest punishment imaginable. But the seconds tick away, and she continues staring—expectantly.
Hope patters in my chest. A blazing trail of need burns up my throat, and I shoot to my feet. “Are you in earnest?”
Before she can answer, my bad leg gives out and I crumple against the trunk. Thanks to the zurig, I’m even more wobbly and lopsided than usual—like the gnarled, windswept trees dotting the grasslands.
I stare down at my feet. “Look at me. It’s laughable to think I’m evencapableof hunting Temujin. You watched him scale the Sky Palace and soar through the banners. I would never be able to keep up. I’m a shadow of the warrior I used to be.”
“Strength can be regained.” Ghoa unsheathes her saber and holds it out. The etched steel glimmers in the low light, and my fingers ache to take the grip. To feel the perfectly balanced weight of the tang and shaft in my hand. To feel my old calluses, buried so long ago, rise back to the surface.
But it’s impossible.
I clutch my arm to my chest. “Why are you even suggesting this? I can’t be out there on my own—you of all people know that.” The crowds’ vicious taunts still ring in my ears. I can see their snarling faces and feel the monster’s claws thrashing through my skin. “I was barely able to restrain myself,” I admit.
Ghoa gently moves my injured arm and taps the stone embedded in my collarbone. “Have a little faith—in the moonstone and in yourself.”
“I stopped having faith in myself when I massacred innocent merchants. Why not go yourself? Or send Varren or any member of Kalima?”
“Because Temujin and his Shoniin are always on guard. They avoid anyone who remotely resembles a warrior. But someone like you …”
Someone hideous and broken and despised. Ghoa doesn’t say these words, of course, but she might as well. They pound my ears like war drums.
“He saved you,” she presses, as if it means something. “It would be natural for him to recruit you. No hunting required.”
We need you. Find us.
I peer at Ghoa through the corners of my eyes. She was at the bottom of the palace steps. She couldn’t have heard. And I’m certain Temujin has no intention of keeping his word anyway. What need would his rebel group have for a weak, washed-up warrior? “He was only trying to rile the king. It had nothing to do with me specifically.”
“I don’t carewhyTemujin saved you.” Ghoa sheathes her blade then smooths a curling wisp of hair from my forehead. “I only care that he did. He’s rescued two other criminals in a similar manner—one from the stockade and the other from a prison wagon—but both vanished before we could convert them to our cause. This time, we’ll be ready. All you have to do is act like a grateful, eager recruit. Then, when Temujin welcomes you into his band, you will lead us to their hideout.”
“But—”
“You have to accept,” she blurts. “It’s more imperative than ever that I capture the boy swiftly, and the best way to do that is to send someone to infiltrate his ranks.Please,En.” Ghoa’s voice catches, and that weakness, that wobble, splits my chest down the center. She twines her fingers through my penance robe as if it’s the last shred of rope and she’s dangling over oblivion. “You can do this. I need you to do this. For meandfor Ashkar.”
I gape into her bloodless face and pleading eyes. I have never seen Ghoa this unnerved. Not once in ten years. And it sends a cold rush of fear snaking through my bones. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“We’relosing,” she whispers.
“What do you mean,we’re losing? Losing what?”
“The war! Ashkar! The Unified Empire! All of it! This is about so much more than my position. The Zemyans are over the border. They’ve taken eight cities already. And with Temujin weakening our ranks and dividing our efforts, we’re poised to lose even more ground. I amfailing,” she grinds out. “Failing my king, my country, my family. Which is why I need your assistance. I needyouto savemeas I have saved you. It will benefit you, too,” she adds. “If you succeed, I’ll convince the Sky King to forgive your indiscretion today. I’ll convince him to forgiveallof your indiscretions. You will be released from Ikh Zuree and reinstated in the Kalima.”
