Page 19 of The Jasad Crown
If Arin caught me, the war would end before it began.
At least with the Urabi, I could be used for Jasad. The choices they would make—the control I would surrender—would be on behalf of the kingdom I had failed.
The Urabi needed me, but I needed them, too.
I raised my leg to the next stone and nearly tipped sideways onto a long, flat surface holding firm beneath my boot. I tested its strength, shifting more and more of my weight onto it without releasing the rocks under my hands.
After reassuring myself it wouldn’t collapse and plunge me into the sea, I settled myself onto the ledge. The gush of fast-flowing water surrounded me. My hands prickled as I shook them out, stiff from hours of clinging to slippery stone.
The night refused to relent. I was clearly close to some kind of moving water, but without light, it was impossible to tell how close. Resigned to waiting until the moon reared its stubborn head, I slid to a cross-legged seat on the ledge.
I knew what Arin would say. I could use my magic to illuminate my surroundings. In fact, I could have used my magic to scaledown the side of the mountain. Each time the idea occurred to me, I brushed it aside.
Without any other distraction, I reluctantly unchained the thought I had held captive the instant I saw my bare wrists.
“I can’t know for certain what would happen if your full magic was accessible. I might be able to drain it normally. Maybe I’d never reach the bottom of your magic’s well, so to speak, and could only temporarily drain portions of it,” Arin said. “But if you want my strongest theory, I suspect touching you while you can fully express your magic would kill me.”
If I started laughing at the irony, I might never stop. Arin’s touch had brought forth my magic and saved my life on at least two separate occasions, and now my touch could end his life.
The Urabi could never know. They already suspected my loyalties, and if they knew I had this ability and refused to use it, they would begin to doubt my heart, too. And I wouldn’t use it—not unless Arin left me with no other choice.
Perhaps growing jealous of the clouds I had collected over my own head, the moon finally decided to show its face. Wisps of white melted from the dissipating clouds, and I blinked against the brightness of the crescent waiting behind them.
I saw the sea first, churning much closer than I expected. The moonlight spread to the mountainside, revealing the uneven stone face I had climbed down in the dark. It shifted to my right, casting its bluish hue over the source of the rushing water I’d been hearing for the last hour.
I gasped.
Streams poured over the side of the mountain, flowing in dozens of different directions as they cascaded over gleaming black ledges identical to the one beneath me. They rushed toward the sea like a traveler eager to reunite with an old friend.
I tasted the water the wind had generously whipped onto my face and grinned. No salt.
This was Hirun. The river truly did flow beneath the Desert Flats—all along, through droughts and dying crops, Orban had had access to Hirun just under its feet.
I tried to gauge how far I would have to climb to reach the middle of the waterfall. Once I confirmed the entry point, I would go back to the Gibal. The Urabi wouldn’t need to know I had ever left, and I would sleep easier having found a place to run if the need ever arose.
I turned around and went stiff. A scream lodged in my throat.
A woman stood on the ledge behind me, leaning against the rocks.
“So,” she said, “are we leaving?”
I was hundreds of feet from the top of the mountain. It would have been impossible for anyone to follow me unseen or appear without making a sound.
Displeased at my long silence, she heaved a sigh and jumped to the ledge under me. “I don’t mind if we stay. I like the little bouncing one. Omaima? Her magic intrigues me.”
A blur of motion as she twirled to another ledge, and when she glanced up, another woman’s face had replaced hers, thickly lashed green eyes dancing mischievously. “What do you think?”
My fingernails cut into my palms as I ran through my options. I was on a ledge in the middle of the mountainside. To my right, a waterfall ready to sweep me directly into the depths of Suhna Sea if I made a single misstep. To my left, a deranged apparition.
I inched closer to the waterfall.
“I think we should stay,” the green-eyed apparition said. “For now, at least. They are our best chance of winning our crown.”
Ourcrown?
My sleeve caught on the stream behind me, soaking my arm instantly. The blast of cold shattered the last of my shock, and my heart began to pound with sickening speed. What had I been thinking, coming down here? If I vanished—if this thing killed me—
I glanced up in a last feat of desperation, scouring the cliffside,and nearly choked with relief at the sight of a figure looming over the edge. The bad haircut, the slim frame—Efra. Thank the Awaleen. A real person who knew where I was, knew I needed help.
