“I need to find my leathers,” I said when Varidian stirred, pulling me back into his warmth.
“It’s too early to ride, dearling,” my husband complained, gritty with sleep. He rubbed his eyes, squinting at me as I squirmed free. “Although I can think of a ride that might be more enjoyable.”
I picked up my clothes, scattered where they ended up after our bath, just before rounds two and three. And four. But my leathers were missing, along with Varidian’s dirty clothes.
“Varidian. Where would our clothes be right now? The ones we wore yesterday?”
My alarm cleared his eyes, made him push himself up against the cushions of our bed. “They’d be sent for cleaning.”
“They can’t,” I breathed, shoving my feet into slippers and taking off into the still-dark halls of the Diamond. My heart fluttered like the frantic wings of a sparrow. I sprinted down the hall, but the baths were empty, no pile of clothes remaining.
I skidded around corners, passing the kitchen and grinding to a halt when my path crossed with Sabira. The fierce head of house’s mouth pressed thin in disapproval, and I had no doubt her mouth opened to lecture me about the perils of running, but I blurted, “My leathers. Have they been cleaned yet?”
“Last night,” she confirmed, frowning. “Why?”
“No!” I dragged my hands through my hair, gripping the sides of my head. Fuck.Fuck!
“Is this about the pages in your pocket?” she asked slyly.
I forgot to breathe for a moment, then resumed breathing all at once, my shoulders drooping. “You removed them.”
“Well, of course. I’m a professional. Do you know how many official documents the legion leaves in their pockets?” She tutted. “They’d be reduced to pulp with their carelessness.”
“Where are the pages?” I asked, halting in the act of hugging the woman when she narrowed her eyes in warning. I settled for squeezing her shoulder. “It’s important.”
“Kitchen,” she replied, shaking her head as I took off running, ignoring the sharp slash of pain through my leg. “On the table,” she yelled after me.
“Thank you,” I shouted over my shoulder. “You just saved the world.”
Maybe. I wouldn’t know until I’d read those pages, secretly ripped out of the journal Bakshi sent us to retrieve, before the Zalaam queen reduced the book to ashes.
“Madwoman!” Shula exclaimed with a grin when I burst into the kitchen. Before I could reach the table and its potential salvation, I was wrangled into a hug by big, muscular arms and squeezed so hard my ribs felt to buckle.
“Shula,” I croaked.
“It’s so good to have you back,” she said, releasing me only to rest her hands on my shoulders, sweeping a look from my head to my bare toes. “Your thigh’s bleeding.”
“That can wait,” I huffed, scanning the kitchen and giving Rawiya and Nabil a brief smile before my attention fell on the table. Nabil looked exhausted, his face drawn and eyes encircled with shadows that spoke of sleeping struggles. I couldn’t imagine how it felt to lose a bonded wyvern. The duel between Raheema and Muhannad was petrifying, but she survived. If she hadn’t, would I have looked as ghostly as Nabil?
“Not you, too,” he sighed, his hands wrapped around a mug of steaming qahwa. “I’m so tired of everyone looking at me like that.”
“You could probably stop atI’m so tired,”Shula remarked, ruffling his dark hair as she walked past, unerringly in the direction of whatever bubbled in a pot, perfuming the kitchen with spices.
I pushed a bowl of berries to the side, exhaling hard when I spotted the yellowed pages, folded and crumpled from being in my pocket. Warmth bathed my chest a moment before Varidianrested his hand on my lower back, peering over my shoulder as I unfolded the pages. Even with how bleak their contents were, I couldn’t help but smile as I felt his love through the bond.
“You ripped pages from the journal,” Varidian realised.
“What journal?” Rawiya nudged Shula aside to join Varidian and I. “That’s no language I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s from Cirestia,” I murmured, turning the pages over, looking at the dark sketches, the urgent writing. “The land where my mother came from. I reached it through a window.”
“A window,” Nabil repeated, leaning forward with interest. “In Morysen?”
I nodded, skim-reading the pages. “This talks about something called the Aithnan, two souls who—” I swallowed. “Who are destined to be reborn throughout history until the evil is defeated. The evil is the Zalaam queen and her forces,” I added, looking up and finding everyone’s attention on me. We should have waited to do this until the others were here, Kamaal especially, but I couldn’t delay. “As long as there is darkness in any world,” I read, “the bonded Aithnan will return, one bearing light, the other bearing fire. Powers to cast out the dark.”
Varidian pulled me closer, tense beside me.
“That’s us,” I said, a little numbly as I looked up at him. “We’re—we’re the ones who are supposed to cast out the dark. My magic is called deathfyre,” I explained to the others. “That’s what Kamaal called it. And light…”
