Jasim nodded. Then his eyes drifted shut.
Sympathy lowered my shoulders. He was exhausted. I was, too, but with his injuries, it was a wonder he’d passed the sun’s zenith without collapsing.
I curled up beside him and rested my head on his shoulder, gazing out at the leafy branches and fog surrounding us. In my gut, I knew I had made the right decision leading us in here, but… the silence was unsettling. I wished my father’s aims were clearer.
“I would take you to the market,” Jasim mumbled.
I gazed at him in surprise. His eyes were still closed, but a faint smile turned up his lips. “If I’d been allowed to court you. The first place I’d take you is the Ketopolis Market. A new baklawa stall opened last year. Nena’s daughter runs it.”
My heart warmed as I settled back into his side. “Why would we get baklawa from the market when we have a cook who can make it?”
“Because the market is the only place you still smile.” He rested his cheek against my head. “Sorry you have to settle for a creepy forest instead.”
I smiled and cuddled closer. “This is much more memorable.”
He chuckled. My smile stretched.
“Sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
He was tired enough that he didn’t argue. I slipped Jasim’s scimitar out of his callused hand and settled it in my lap as I trained my eyes on the crawling fog around us.
A twig snapped.
My eyes burst open.
I’d fallen asleep. Fuck!
Night had turned the trees into towering shadows. The temperature had dropped with the sun, and my breaths puffed in silvery wisps of vapor. Mercifully, the moon remained bright, chasing away the horrible dark. The moon goddess protecting me when her husband could not.
The space beside me was empty. The scimitar was gone.
My heart plummeted into my stomach. “Jasim?”
Another twig snapped, drawing my attention several paces away. Jasim’s form was barely more than a silhouette, but his blade glinted in the moonlight. It hung limply from his hand, tip scraping the ground.
I lurched up to my feet and hurried to his side. “Jasim, what are you doing?”
His eyes were wide, hardly blinking as he stared into the trees. “I saw her,” he whispered.
A chill passed over me. “Who?”
“Andra.”
“Your sister?”
Jasim nodded.
I frowned and peered into the trees. “Where?”
But he didn’t have to answer. Out of the darkness, an eye gleamed. The moonlight gilded the side of a woman’s face, the resemblance unmistakable in the curve of her cheeks, the tilt of her lips. A whimper broke out of her, like that of a wounded animal.
I shook my head, bewildered. Jasim said his family lived near the dam. Dead Man’s Forest wasn’t as far as Ketopolis, but it wasat least a week’s journey from the dam. Not a place someone would accidentally venture.
The hairs along my arms rose. Something wasn’t right.
Jasim didn’t notice. He staggered toward his sister. “An, how are you here? Are you hurt? Is Mama here, too—”
“Wait.” I caught his elbow and jerked him back.
