Two.
Neff felt herself weaken, her head growing light. It was hard to breathe with Sitamun’s weight crushing her.Just a little longer.
She thought of Kenna.
You can call me brother, if you wish.
With a cry of effort, she concentrated all her remaining strength at the gatehouse door.
Boom.
The final door burst open in a flurry of blowing sand, causing every man in the courtyard to shout.
Three!
When the dust settled, a man astride a black stallion stood in the doorway with the wind at his back. His dark, wavy hair danced in the breeze.
The lamb, the lamb, the lamb…
He wore a rough, dark schenti, with sheepskin leather spaulders and bracers. His chest, however, was bare, and bore a scarab-shaped scar over one side.
The horse pawed the ground eagerly, and the man pulled the reins taut. His eyes met Neff’s across the courtyard, glinting with an otherworldly light.
Neff’s heart soared.
“Advance!” Karim commanded, and from behind him, a host of Red Land tribesmen charged into the fray.
32Karim
“Focus your efforts on driving out the soldiers and the royal guard!” Karim shouted to his men. “Kill only when necessary! Protect the prisoners and secure the fortress!”
Shouting their accord, warriors from both the Anen and the Hudjefa tribes flooded the courtyard, adding fuel to an already raging battle.
Where are you, Sitamun?Karim scanned the area. The courtyard was littered with bodies and ringing with the bellows and screams of those fighting for their lives. A thrill of dread coursed up Karim’s spine as he considered the possibility that something terrible had happened to the princess.
“Now you’re going to tell me that youknewthat was going to happen,” said Gamil.
Karim looked down at his younger brother standing by his side, armed with a leather shield and staff. “What, the doors? Of course I did!”
“Liar.”
Karim absolutely didnotknow that the three gatehouse doors would blow open, allowing him and the small army he’d assembled to storm the fortress. In fact, when they’d arrived and saw the immense structure before them, Karim’s confidence had faltered. Dumiya had intercepted them in the desert and relayed how she’d delivered Sita to the temple and seen her taken into her brother’s custody, and how she’d learned about a cursing ritual that would involve human sacrifice, which Sita would likely attend.
Upon their approach of the fortress that day, Karim spied several large empty vessels moored on the riverbank alongside the fortress. From that, he got the sense that they might not be the only ones looking to disrupt the ritual.
Unlike whomever had come by boat, however, Karim hadn’t had a plan to get inside the fortress. It was only when his hair began to twist in the wind and he smelled the notes of magic in the air that he thought:Maybe I don’t need one.
The streams were converging; he could feel it.
The river was about to flood.
Gamil moved to enter the fray, but Karim nudged the horse in front of him.
“Not so fast, sen,” he said. “Mind yourself in there, hey? Omma will have my hide if anything happens to you.”
“Don’t be such a goose,” Gamil replied. “I’ve been training all my life for this!”
Karim snorted. “You’ve been training for about as long as you’ve been growing that mouse pelt you call a beard.” When Gamil scowled, Karim gave him a reluctant smile. “Just be careful. Oh, and Gamil—”
