Chapter 27 Quil #2
“Oh, get up,” the Bani al-Mauth scoffed at them.
“Mauth has seen fit to lend me speed. Who am I to argue with him? Here is where I leave you.” She’d stopped in the shadow of a large dune.
North of them, the green palms of an oasis swayed in the desert wind.
To the south lay rolling gold hills. To the west and the east, two separate mountain ranges knifed at the sky, one rocky, the other snowy.
“The Jaduna capital lies a week or so that way.” The Bani al-Mauth nodded to the snowy peaks.
“Didn’t realize there would be a mountain range in the way.” Quil frowned. “It’s not on any of the maps.”
“That’s how the Jaduna prefer it. Take this.” She pulled a parchment from her cloak and unfolded it to show a rough map of the mountains. “Drew this myself after a bit of exploration a couple of years ago. Should help.” She fixed her blue eyes on Quil. “You watch your back around those witches.”
“I will.” Quil staggered to his feet, still woozy. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
The Bani al-Mauth gave him a half smile.
“I like you, boy,” she rasped. “Have since you were a baby. You remind me of that aunt of yours. She was a menace at your age, but she found her heart eventually. Gave it to you when she did.” She looked off into the mountains, squinting.
“As it happens, I owe her a great deal. Let this be my repayment.”
She nodded to Arelia and Tas and hugged her grandson.
“Be good to your mother when you see her, lad,” she growled. “Tell her I love her.”
“Tell her yourself, Nan,” Sufiyan said. “You two are wasting time.”
The Bani al-Mauth offered her grandson a crooked smile before disappearing. Without her, the vast desert around them seemed so empty.
“We’ll need horses.” Quil nodded to the oasis. “Firesian mounts are some of the hardiest in the world.”
Tas, upright now and looking more alert, glanced at the snow-topped mountains. “We should get cold-weather gear, too,” he said. “And court clothing. The Jaduna border will be well guarded. If you’re arriving as the crown prince of the Empire, you best look the part.”
The moon was high and the oasis bustling by the time they arrived.
It was large, ruled by one of Firan’s powerful Sun Lords.
The Firesians were identifiable by the dark freckles scattered across their skin, but the neat dirt lanes of the oasis were packed with people from all over the south.
Once Quil procured lodgings, Tas quickly found a horse trader.
While he negotiated, Arelia and Sufiyan hunted down clothing—including a dress for Arelia, much to her annoyance.
Quil moved through the market near Tas, looking for someone who might tell him more about the Jaduna lands. He quickly realized that few people were forthcoming with foreigners. At the thought, his magic stirred. The jinn do not speak idly.
Perhaps it was time to use his magic.
The oasis was packed with thick-walled buildings and open-air markets beneath strings of green glass lanterns. Quil took up a spot near a shawarma stall, buying a wrap so he’d have a plausible excuse for standing around.
As he ate, he deployed his magic. His first target was a canteen merchant doing brisk business with a group of Karkaun fur traders. Quil skimmed the man’s mind and saw him making the canteens, watching a sunrise from the banks of a silt-clouded river, smiling in the arms of a lover.
Quil flinched and withdrew at that last image, reddening. He needed to direct his magic so he wouldn’t be mired in random memories. Jaduna, Quil said in his mind.
Too forcefully, perhaps. “Jaduna!” the man shouted. The Karkauns with him paused in their haggling, looking bewildered. Quil nearly dropped his wrap. He tried to appear nonchalant and then realized that no one was looking at him to begin with.
“Sorry.” The merchant flushed. “I—I don’t know what—”
Quil didn’t hear the rest. He was walking away, heart thundering. He’d been careless. Too careless. It wasn’t the end of the world if he came upon a Jaduna, but he’d rather meet them on his own terms, and not because he’d been flailing about with his magic.
By the time he reached the bunkroom at the inn, where the others waited, Quil wanted to kick something. His mood didn’t improve when a wight appeared by his ear, dropping a long-awaited message in his lap.
We move to where you and I were once bested by our quarry. Three weapons caches and two firepowder shipments destroyed. Beekeeper in enemy hands. Let’s hope his sense of humor keeps him alive. Send word. AH
“Aunt Hel’s taken the army to the Bhuth badlands,” Quil said, for that was the only place he and his aunt had ever lost a trail while hunting. “The Kegari captured Musa. They must have raided the Nevennes encampment.”
Sufiyan, lounging on his bunk, sat straight up, skin ashen. “What about the rest of the Resistance? Karinna joined up with them.”
“She would have mentioned Karinna if something had happened,” Quil tried to reassure his friend. “She likely wasn’t even there. Musa sent her on a mission before we left Serra. I heard Aunt Hel and Laia arguing about it.”
“What will you tell the Empress?” Tas asked.
“The truth,” Quil said, though it frustrated him to have to report so little progress. “That we’re nearly to the Jaduna and that we’ll do what we must to get their aid.”
After Quil sent the wight off, he couldn’t stop pacing the room. It wasn’t enough. Nothing he’d done—not the Ikfa, not going to the jinn—none of it was enough.
You will not win this battle with your blades, Quil. Nor with pleas for aid.
The magic unfurled within, a flower waking, and Quil turned to his companions. “I must practice the magic,” he said. “I tried in the market earlier, but it didn’t go well.”
Tas sighed theatrically. “I know those two offered”—he nodded to Sufiyan and Arelia—“but start with me. And try not to look in the dark corners, little brother.” Tas grinned. “Such advanced forms of lovemaking aren’t for innocent pups like yourself.”
Quil couldn’t help the snicker that bubbled to his lips. Within seconds, Sufiyan and Arelia were howling. And Quil found that in spite of the ridiculousness of the comment and the truly dire straits he found himself in, it felt good to laugh.
As they traveled west to Kotama over the next few days, Quil tried not to think about Sirsha, instead using every opportunity to experiment with his magic.
He lured images of an old spying mission out of Tas—blessedly free of any dark corners; he drew the memory of a passing caravan from the earth; and he helped Arelia recover her recollection of an old drawing she insisted she’d made but couldn’t find in her notebook.
But though Diriya had said he could give memories, Quil had no luck doing so with any of his companions, not even with the simplest of images.
Until one night, when the little company had stopped deep in the mountains.
They were thousands of feet up, exhausted from the travails of guiding their horses through fresh snow.
They’d taken shelter beneath a rock overhang curtained by a frozen waterfall.
According to the Bani al-Mauth’s map, they were only two days from the pass that led to Kotama—the Jaduna capital.
As Quil completed the first watch, Sufiyan trudged up behind him to take over, yawning. Quil wasn’t yet tired, and so they sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the snow dance in the wind.
“Can you—make people forget?” Sufiyan asked after a time, and Quil sensed he’d been cogitating over the question for a while. “If I gave you a memory, say. Could you get rid of it?”
“If you’re trying to forget about that Scholar girl in Serra who failed to tell you about her fiancé until after you two had—”
“Not that,” Sufiyan said. “Though if you could erase that—” He looked hopefully at Quil, who shook his head.
“This is…something else,” Sufiyan said. “I can’t bring myself to say it. I’m thinking about it now. Could you—”