Chapter 47 Sirsha
Sirsha
The sun had only just begun to dip into the west when Sirsha slipped away from the encampment.
A windstorm had rolled in, coating everything in a thick layer of dirt.
Tension rippled through the Martials and Scholars at the Empress and Quil’s departure.
It was made worse by reports of dozens of Sails on the horizon, closing in quickly.
Exhausted as they were, the Jaduna climbed back up to the rim of the canyon, even as the evacuation of the encampment continued, those waiting growing more frantic as soldiers worked to clear multiple blocked ravines to the east.
Everyone was too busy to notice Sirsha’s departure. She’d left a note for Arelia, dropped onto her pack. She had, after all, promised to tell her she was leaving. But the note said nothing about where Sirsha was going or what she was doing.
Briefly, guilt burned in her chest. But Sirsha pushed it away.
She did not know what would happen when she broke the coin—if the jinn would come right away or make her wait.
If they would bind Div or take Sirsha away somewhere or kill her.
She did not know, and it did not matter, not really.
As long as Div was bound. But whatever she faced, Sirsha didn’t want Arelia and Sufiyan involved.
She moved quickly, another shadow in the fading light, seeking a spot far from the encampment.
About a mile south of the camp’s outbuildings, Sirsha found a wide rock alcove that would serve.
The high hoodoo walls should have protected the alcove from the wind.
But as soon as she entered it, the wind rose, tearing at her so ferociously that she had to cover her mouth with a bandana so she wouldn’t choke on dust.
Sirsha wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Quil had left the encampment.
An hour, perhaps? Sufiyan had said breaking the coin would summon the jinn.
And that if they got Sirsha, they would help Quil.
Which meant the quicker she broke it, the quicker he’d get aid against Aiz and whatever skies-forsaken magic she’d managed to dredge up.
The smell of smoke curled into her nose and she glanced back. She couldn’t see the encampment, but there was a haze in the air from what must be a large fire. And yet she hadn’t heard a bomb fall.
Whatever was happening back there wasn’t her concern right now. She took the coin out, but it was so light that the wind blew it from her hands. Gasping, she grabbed for it, and when her fingers closed around it, the earth rumbled.
The elements, she realized, were speaking. But she could feel Div near, even if she hadn’t materialized. Sirsha couldn’t risk reaching for her magic, lest she lose the little will remaining to her.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why are you stopping me?”
But she knew. Loli Temba had warned her that the jinn could only bind Div if Sirsha learned her story.
Div would never tell Sirsha the truth, though. Not without more deceit. Sirsha’s deepest insight was what Laia had shared: that whatever had happened to Div to twist her so irrevocably had happened in her childhood.
Arelia’s face floated into her mind then. Secrets are monsters that live and feed in the shadows of our mind. They must be expelled…Sometimes the best way to invite a secret is to share one of yours.
Sirsha had many secrets. But there was one that lived at her core.
She did not wish to look at that memory.
And yet as the wind tore at her, as she clutched the coin to her body, fearful the elements would snatch it away again, she realized that this memory—her memory—might be the only way to know Div.
For how could she expect Div to share her truth when Sirsha had been running from her own for nine years?
“I was six,” Sirsha whispered to the dark. Almost instantly, the wind died. The earth stilled. Sirsha sat, and though she couldn’t see Div, she could feel her watching. Listening. “When I first began to hunt the Karjad. The magic-users.”
Div materialized before her, crouched in the sand. Her child’s eyes glowed like fading embers in the dark.
“I was a strong Inashi. A good Inashi.” Sirsha’s voice shook. “I wanted to be the best Inashi. Better than my sister or my mother. I wanted everyone’s adoration.
“I was good at hunting. In the early years, I didn’t ask what happened to these rogue Karjad we bound. I didn’t care. All that mattered was that my older sister was in second place and I was in first. My mother told me that one day, I would be Raani of Kin Inashi.
“We traveled everywhere. To Firan and Mehbahn and Ankana and even Kegar.
One day, we were called to a Brijnan village.
There were around twelve hundred people living there, in little stone houses with brightly tiled roofs and round courtyards.
The villagers lined the road when we arrived.
My mother hated it. She preferred to slip in and out quickly.
“The rogue Karjad was a child. He was…young. A bit younger than me. And so sweet. He showed me images he could make with his magic. Showed me how he could soothe a mother cat anxious about her kittens. Calm an approaching storm. Heal a broken bone. His skill was remarkable.
“But I saw how my people looked at him. His magic wasn’t quite right. Our Songma, who understood the currents of a Karjad’s power, told me that he saw something the rest of us could not. That I had to choke off the boy’s magic. Bind him completely, for he was a danger to all around him.”
Sirsha paused, for she was so ashamed of what happened. Thinking of it made her want to collapse into dust. But Div, drawing her finger through the sand, looked up.
“Go on, little witch.”
“I was young still, but I knew that to bind magic you must first understand it. And I understood the boy’s gift to be beautiful. I didn’t want to take it away.
“But the Songma issued the order, and I was to carry it out. This was a test of my skill, but also my loyalty. The boy didn’t understand what I was doing to him. He asked me to stop. So softly. So politely. Stop, he said. Please don’t take it away from me. Please.
“When I bound him, I left him just a tiny sliver of magic. Enough that he couldn’t harm anyone but that he wouldn’t forget himself.
“We left the next day and had traveled for a few hours when we saw smoke on the horizon behind us. Great thick plumes of it. We rode back and—”
Her face was wet, but she didn’t wipe it. She had to finish now. She was almost there.
“The little magic I’d left the boy hadn’t satisfied him.
It frustrated him. In trying to use it, he tore open the binding.
But magic, once bound, mutates into its opposite.
Instead of the power of healing, he had only the power to destroy.
Instead of quenching storms, he could only create fire.
Instead of soothing people, he incited them to rage. Himself, most of all. He—he—”
“Say it,” Div whispered. “Say what he did.”
“He killed his entire village,” Sirsha said. “Every man, woman, and child. And in the end, he knew he’d done it. He knew and—and he killed himself.
“Because of me.” Sirsha could hardly form the words now. Every part of her hurt, like she’d been beaten. “Because I thought I knew so much, but I didn’t know anything. Because I left him a little magic, which was so much worse than if I’d taken it all away.”
She looked up at Div, crouched on her haunches in the dark. “I have never told this story,” she said. “Not even to myself. Because—because I cannot forgive myself.”
“You left something out, little witch.” Div cocked her head. “It is not yourself you must forgive. It is those who failed you. You want my story. But how can I trust you with it if you do not understand this simple fact?”
“You can trust me,” Sirsha said, bewildered by Div’s sudden suspicion. “Skies, Div, I just gave you my darkest, worst memory. I entrusted you with it so you would know that whatever happened to you in your old life, you must face—”
“I do not wish to!” Div said, and she sounded so much like a frightened child that Sirsha nearly reached out to her, for she seemed like a lost little thing. She looked up at Sirsha, confused. Afraid.
“You must trust me, Div,” Sirsha said. “I—I am inviting you into my pain. Into—into my heart. Share yours with me. I want to know you. I must know you.”
Div turned her face to the shadow. Sirsha could not see her expression.
“Is that your will, little witch?”
“Yes!” Sirsha said. “I want you to feel—”
She stopped short when Div turned toward her. When she saw the slow, sly smile on the creature’s face.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Div said. Then she exploded into an inky gray shadow and grabbed Sirsha by the throat.
Stop. Stop. Sirsha desperately attempted to exert her will. Let me go.
“Forgive yourself, Sirsha, yes,” Div said, and her voice was strange, layered.
Many voices at once. “For you did nothing wrong. But those who wronged you? Do not forgive them. Those who failed you?” Div dropped her, impassive as Sirsha gasped for breath.
“They deserve to suffer as we have suffered. They deserve to hurt. You and I, together, we shall hurt them. As one. For you have invited me into you, little witch, and my jagged edges fit yours.”
Lights exploded in Sirsha’s head, and she screamed, for she was being ripped in half. She looked down, expecting Div to be tearing out her heart. But instead, she was enveloping Sirsha’s body in a seething gray cloud.
And then Sirsha could hardly think at all because she was shoved into a prison cell in her mind as Div settled into her body, claiming it as her own. Sirsha could see and smell and feel through her body. But she couldn’t do anything.
Locked away and yet a witness to Div’s thoughts, Sirsha finally recognized Div’s intent. Her malice.