Page 149 of The Jasad Heir
He could not rein the storm forever. Just long enough.
“Get off,” Arin clipped.
The guards lurched to their feet, and the guests skittered back as Arin stood.
To Wes, he said, “Bring back any soldiers entering the upper towns. If they have caused a commotion, say a thief has made away with the treasures in the Orbanian carriages. If King Murib is willing, take ten khawaga with you.”
Finally, he stepped toward Jeru. The curly-haired guard stiffened.
Arin’s voice was silky. “Find Sefa and Marek.”
Jeru’s nostrils flared, but he gave a short nod.
With his guards disappearing to carry out his will, Arin turned to the assembled guests. He avoided his father’s shrewd gaze. “Only those on the royal platform were close enough to hear exactly what transpired before the wing collapsed. The other guests merely witnessed the Nizahl Champion use magic. It cannot spread that the Jasad Queen is alive. There are Jasadis hidden in each of your kingdoms, burrowed deep into the fabric of our society. Should they learn their Queen is calling them, your lands will unravel. It only takes a single servant overhearing one conversation. Her identity must be kept secret at all costs.” He moved his gaze over their faces. “The Nizahl Champion revealed herself as a Jasadi and attacked the Citadel tonight. No more, no less. Do you understand?”
One by one, the royals nodded their assent. Felix trembled with anger, but he dipped his head. It would have to be enough.
At the top of the Citadel, Arin stared out of his wrought-iron balcony. He ran his thumb over the cuffs he’d retrieved from the ballroom’s smoldering ruins. The first rays of sunlight gleamed over Nizahl. The ushering of a new day.
The longer Essiya of Jasad lived, the more likely the news of her return would spread. Without a royal to rally behind, the siege against Jasad had cost thousands of lives. A Jasadi uprising with Niphran’s daughter at the helm would plunge the kingdoms into a war from which they would never recover.
The Malik and Malika of Jasad were magic miners.
If she continued the profane practices of her lineage, war would be just the beginning. Her magic was beyond anything Arin had ever felt. Beyond any power that should still exist.
“Your Highness? You summoned me?” Vaun’s voice was subdued behind him. Arin’s gaze did not leave the blush of dawn tinting the distant corners of his kingdom. She was out there somewhere.
“Tell the council to gather,” Arin said. Around and around, his thumb tracked the cuffs. They couldn’t hide her from him forever.
Confusion delayed Vaun’s response. “The council is already gathered, my liege.”
“Gather them in the war wing.”
Vaun inhaled sharply. “Yes, sire.” Arin did not hear the guard’s footsteps disappear or the door closing behind him.
The Nizahl Heir traced Essiya’s cuffs, and he started to plan.
