There was no one to rely on now but myself.
Loneliness shadowed my every step. Even at my most isolated, Jasim had always been there. Even when I thought him dead, he’d worried for me, defended me, rescued me. For that short while I’d gone willingly into his arms, I’d felt… happy. I cursed myself for being so fucked up that I’d lost that. Why couldn’t I have just asked the jinni for what Jasim wanted? Why couldn’t I be the sort of person who sacrificed? I knewhowto do it, but why… why couldn’t Iwantto?
With every blink, I saw the look of utter devastation on Jasim’s face. The way his eyes had widened, how that spark of adoration fizzled out and died. The tense set of his shoulders as he walked away.
I hoped he’d find his way out of here. I hoped he made it back home and lived a good life. That he found a girl like the one he’d tricked himself into thinking I was and she met his six sisters and mother and they became a family. Maybe, if he was happy, the ache in my chest would go away.
As the days wore on, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, my throat clicked with every swallow, and hunger gnawed at my stomach lining. Deep down, I knew that if I ran into a nasnas oranother tribe now, I’d be dead. I couldn’t even outrun a snail in my condition. I had to resort to lapping up what water I could from wet pools in the mud left by the fog. Like a dog. Just enough to keep me going but nowhere near enough to actually chase away the burn of my dry throat. Every step was on unsteady legs, head pounding both from dehydration and the sound of talons clawing against glass.
Why am I here, Baba?Shaya never responded, but that didn’t stop me from trying.I thought it was for the jinni, but that had nearly resulted in my death. You must have another plan. Please, show me what it is. I don’t know how much longer I can last…
I’d lost track of the days. Perhaps there was a single day left until the Igniting, perhaps there were weeks. Both options seemed far too long.
I needed water and I needed it now.
My stomach suddenly pitched hard, and I threw my hand out against the nearest tree as I vomited pure bile. It burned my throat and made tears burst from my eyes. Even though it was hot and humid, tremors racked my body, a chill that wouldn’t leave. I leaned my sweaty forehead against the tree and drew deep breaths.
Baba, where are you? Help me. Please.
“Now, isn’t this a sorry sight.”
My head snapped up.
A man leaned against a tree some feet away. Thoughmandidn’t seem quite right. There was an otherness to him, even in the casual cross of his lean arms over his chest. His movements were too sharp, almost birdlike. His head canted from left to right, too fast, making his dark curls flop back and forth over his round, tan face, the sun catching the blond highlights. “All that calling for Father, but what if he’d found you like this? Do you think he’d be pleased?” He shook his head sadly, orange eyes beady as they scanned over me with disapproval.
“Where… where did you come from? Who are you?”
He put a hand to his chest as if wounded. “You cut deep, Sister.”Then he pushed off from the tree, and large feathered wings unfurled from his back, curling up toward the crown of his head, blocking out the sun and dousing me in shadow as he approached.
Sister. He’d called me Sister. And I knew those hawk features. I’d passed statues of him on my way into Dead Man’s Forest. This was…
“Athar,” I breathed.
The God of Mischief’s lips quirked up in a smirk at once amused and malicious. “In the flesh.”
My stomach caved in.
A brush of a breeze, a rush of power, that was all the contact I had ever received from a god. Never had one stood before me. Wonder, excitement, awe all warred for attention. But it only took a few seconds for each one of them to be drowned out by fear.
Dead Man’s Forest, Athar’s playground. I’d already survived two of his twisted games—the nasnas and that tribe—but I very much doubted I’d manage against the god himself. Not with my mind and body already in shambles.
His silver breastplate glinted in the afternoon sun as he swept his arm toward the trees in a dramatic flourish. “Shall we?”
I took an instinctive step back.
Athar’s head canted to the side. “You ask for help and then reject it?”
“I asked forShaya’shelp,” I replied.
He laughed, a squawk of a sound. “You’re a rude little thing, aren’t you. Instead of delivering Father’s message, I ought to just leave you to my friends. I think I heard that fun little tribe skulking about not too far away.”
My eyes narrowed. He was baiting me, dangling Shaya in front of me like a carrot. I knew better than to engage with Athar’s tricks in this place, let alone the god himself, but my power roiled violently at my fingertips, and suddenly I found myself asking, “What message?”
The corners of Athar’s eyes crinkled. “A visual one. Whichbrings us back to…” He gestured to the trees again, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
Athar. My brother. Here. A thought as mad as a dead king’s voice in my head.
I had to be hallucinating. That was the only explanation. I wished Jasim were there to tell me. Nothing good would come from listening to a hallucination in Dead Man’s Forest.
