Oni rubbed a small dent along his ribs. “Yes, you ruined my throneandCilverath, the ceremonial spear of our ancestors. I have the right to be upset about it.”
Brela looked ready to snap back at him but she only huffed. “Just tell me why you’re looking into the Veil wall.”
The sand sprite leaned forward. “Because it’s cracked.”
Cason stilled, fighting every magic ember inside his body aching to react.
Serill’s voice trembled as much as his body. “All the way down here?”
Oni nodded. “There are more to the south and they become more common in the north. Ever since Anfroy started… whatever it is they’re doing in Valisea, the wind in the desert has gone quiet. Even the beasts have started acting strange, and many have begun retreating deeper south to get away from the wall. We’ve had our share of shards crumble off, but not like this. Not a gaping crack.”
“Has it broken through to the other side?” Elias asked, only partially looking at Oni. His gaze was too busy flashing between Farrah and Brela.
“Not yet,” Oni replied. “It’s still solid, but… it’s not going to be that way for long.”
Brela didn’t take her eyes off the sand sprite. “Oni… don’t ask—”
Oni’s black eyes blinked once. “Stop them. Whatever they are doing up there, you have to stop them. If that wall comes down—“
“I know…” she rasped. “Shadow hell.”
Cason suddenly realized that the woman sitting in front of him—the Veil Scholar and assassin who honored Ryia—was terrified of what her god might unleash from the other side of that wall. More than she’d been frightened about the King of Severina knowing about Calcheth. More than thinking she might be tortured to death for the shard in her collarbone.
And then he realized that the Crown Prince of the Sand Sprites had looked at Brela as if she might be capable of stopping Anfroy’s army.
As if she was capable of holding the wall together, too.
33
Smoke and Blood
Brela leaned over the arena railing and rubbed her temples as she tried to calm her emotions. No amount of breathing could settle the headache building. Not even the soft hum of a song echoing as Dulphi pranced around and played with the bloody remnants of her dinner.
She didn’t dare look back at the fire and the questioning look Cason had given her after she’d not-so-kindly reminded him not to use his fire before she’d stomped off.
A crack in the wall. Not just little dents where shards had popped off, but a gods-damned fissure. And she knew what information Oni had omitted—the reason the desert was no longer safe.
There was only one creature with the power to send beasts like the vaarasuxa fleeing.
She huffed a breath. “Nowwould be the appropriate time to push me in, Oni.”
The sand sprite’s wind settled as he took form to her left. “I’m surprised you haven’t jumped in, considering the mess you’ve created for yourself.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“I think you do,” Oni countered. “Zvocz. Later, you told me, so I honored your secrets and I did not reveal anything in front of your friends. I think the two pretty ones are well-informed, but they don’t know everything.”
Brela followed his gaze to Farrah and Elias, huddled together where they could keep an eye on Brela while listening to Lenni share an animated story. Based on the wild gestures, it seemed she was telling the story of Emril shoving Brela into the pit she now stood above.
“Why is the wind quiet, Oni?”
He grunted. “For the same reason the wind is silent around you.”
Shadow magic. He’d told her as much eight years ago, and kept her secrets then as well. Dernian had sent her to the desert for answers about her power. She’d only come back with more questions.
She felt the wind shift, Oni playing with the sounds of the desert to keep anyone from overhearing them.
“He’s going to betray you when he finds out. I can smell it.”
