“I don’t know,” Chanar wheezes. “I went to deliver the monk’s rations, but as soon as I opened the door, I was enveloped in flames. The fanatic blew himself up and tried to take me down with him.”
The story sets every nerve in my body to prickling. Serik has a history of fiery retaliation.
Inkar’s face goes as white as freshly driven snow and she hurries to her brother’s side, inspecting the burns on his cheeks.
“Was anyone else injured?” Temujin asks.
“Techugar and Borte were right behind me, and there were others training nearby. Lots of burns and cuts.” Chanar coughs so hard, he vomits.
Temujin kicks Inkar’s bedroll. He glances at me, then back at the door.
“Please go, all of you,” I say. “Take care of the wounded.” They need to leave so I can leave.
Temujin studies me, his face etched with worry and compassion, but eventually he nods. “It will only take a minute.” He rushes from the tent and Inkar and Chanar hobble out on his heels.
As soon as they’re gone, I drag myself to the tent flap and whisper Serik’s name, praying to the Lady and Father my suspicions are right.
When no answer comes, I call a little louder. Then a little louder still. I wipe my clammy palms down my tunic and poke my head out of the tent. With the smoky ocher haze, the other Shoniin won’t be able to spot me easily. But Serik won’t be able to see me either. As much as I want to dash around the encampment looking for him, there’s no way I can walk so far, and wandering would make it more difficult for him to find me anyway. So I stay put.
The seconds tick past, and with each one, my certainty wavers. After twenty minutes, I’m chained head to toe with panic. Maybe I’m jumping to wild conclusions. Maybe Serik didn’t escape. Temujin and his Shoniin made it clear they weren’t fond of Serik, but they wouldn’t murder him.
Would they?
A sob explodes from my collapsing chest.
A moment later footsteps crunch outside the tent and a soft voice whispers, “Enebish?”
My name has never sounded so glorious.
I squeal and draw the tent flap aside. “You’re alive! Thank the skies.”
“Of course I’m alive.” Serik bends through the door, his skin so coated with soot that he looks painted with darkness. “There are too many damn tents in this place. How are you ever supposed to find anyone?”
I throw my arms around him and press my face against his chest, savoring his warmth and solidness, no matter that he reeks like a firepit. “How did you escape? What are you going to do? They’ll be back any second.” Every thought and worry rushes out of my head like a waterfall.
“I picked the lock,” Serik says with a wave of his hand, as if it should be obvious.
“Using what? There was nothing in that cell with you. They didn’t even leave the empty ration sacks or a water cup.”
“But theydidleave me with my cloak”—Serik holds the fabric out like wings—“so I got a little crafty.” He turns to display the back, where a small panel of goldwork has been ripped from the hem.
I stare at him in wonderment. “But isn’t that just thread?”
“I always thought so, but I spent so many hours rubbing the stitches in frustration, I discovered it was actually gold thread wound around wire. That’s what makes it sturdy enough to create these intricate designs. I shaped the wires into a pick and let myself out. Then I may haveaccidentallyspilled a jug of vorkhi as I was leaving, which may have soaked a rather large pile of clothing. But that’s hardly my fault. That place was so cramped and cluttered with junk and rusted sabers lying around, I’m not surprised a random spark set it ablaze.”
His eyes squish into delighted crescent moons, and I pinch his ear, imitating the abba. “I’m so relieved you’re safe, but did you have to set the shack onfire?”
“Yes! They’re lucky I didn’t torch this entire awful place.”
I slap a palm to my forehead. “You realize this doesn’t help our cause? They’re never going to trust you now.”
“Good! I don’t want their trust. I want nothing to do with them.”
“You are the most difficult and vengeful person I know.”
Serik preens as if it’s a compliment. “Just wait until they see what I have planned next. I’m going to steal their precious Night Spinner. Do you want to walk, or should I toss you over my shoulder so it looks like I’m kidnapping you? We need to be convincing, after all.” Serik makes a playful grab for me, but I dodge back.
His smile falters, and he holds up his hands. “Fine, you can walk. I was just joking—”
