Chapter 9
NINE
Once again, Zarya stood in a dark alley with a hood obscuring her face. Perhaps she should examine how her life had found her in this particular situation with such frequency of late.
The Imarat was a massive, sprawling four-story compound in the heart of the bustling city that housed the members of the Jadugara. They occupied the top floors, each living in opulence, thanks to the funding and support they received from the nobility and the royal family.
The Taara Den was housed on the main floor, where pregnant women presented themselves in their third trimester. They remained here, sleeping in large dorm rooms on the second and third levels until they gave birth. Zarya had walked past it many times, hearing the cries of labor and the wails of the babies screaming at the sting of needles forced into their tiny necks. And even worse, the delirious, heartbreaking screams when a child failed to survive the hideous procedure.
Just the thought of it made her want to throw up. The callousness and disregard for human suffering were incomprehensible. Having lived sheltered from the world, she’d never been exposed to the way indifference could filter into the cracks of society, turning people into monsters who confidently walked through broad daylight.
“Does Daragaab have a place like this?” she asked Yasen, who stood next to her, similarly hooded and cloaked, looking up at the building. Shame burned at the back of her throat that she hadn’t spent more time paying attention to the vanshaj while she’d lived in Dharati.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “A small group of Jadugara live in the city to place the markings and receive shipments of ink from Gi’ana, but things are less organized.”
“Does that mean some of them get away without being marked?”
“Sometimes,” he answered, leaving it at that.
A few lights glowed in the building, but mostly, it sat dark, its inhabitants asleep for the night. Normally, the Imarat was only loosely guarded by the city watch. The Jadugara feared no one. On one side, they lived in the back pockets of the wealthy, and on the other, they ruled by fear, whether you were vanshaj or not.
No one came near this place willingly, terrified of incurring the Jadugara’s notice. While their authority technically gave them jurisdiction over the vanshaj, they also used their considerable magic on anyone who they believed had escaped the collar. Ajay suspected they liked to make an example of an innocent person now and then just to keep everyone afraid.
But after the factory explosion, the royals had apparently offered up some of their own soldiers, and now a line of them stood protecting the front entrance in their regal emerald sherwanis. If Zarya and Yasen were caught, the royal family would undoubtedly impose more threats, and who knew when they’d start acting on them? It might unravel the careful rope they’d been weaving. The Rising Phoenix had been at this for years with little success, and Zarya hoped she was close to offering, if not a solution, then at least some leverage.
“Let’s go,” Yasen said, peering up at the sky. “We’ll try entering from the back.”
Yasen and Zarya retreated into the shadows and made their way through the twisting corridors to arrive at the rear of the compound. The building was made of the same white stone as most of the city, carved with whorls and flowers. Gilded borders framed the windows, and small silver domes crowned various towers and sections of the roof. Bordered by a high iron fence, the grounds were an impeccable field of clipped green grass and flowering bushes.
Two bored men in uniform guarded the back door, looking like they would rather be anywhere else.
“Are they even awake?” Yasen whispered. “Some soldiers they are.”
“They’re just hired thugs,” Zarya said, noting their somewhat threadbare clothing. But they also proved the royal soldiers standing out front were only a show of intimidation. The Jadugara were too confident. She hoped she could inflict a crack in that armor.
Yasen snorted. “You get what you pay for, I guess.”
He peered up and then left and right down the alley. Everything remained quiet except for the usual sounds of the city. “Can you do something about them?” he asked.
Zarya nodded and then sent out two slim tendrils of air magic circling around their necks. Just enough to make them pass out but not to kill them, though she did kind of want to kill anyone who willingly supported this behavior. They’d get their chance for their revenge. But first, she had to get to the bottom of all this.
The two guards slumped against the wall, and quick as lightning, Yasen darted across the alley, catching each of them around a bicep and easing them gently to the ground. When Zarya gave him a quizzical look, he answered, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t concerned about them falling. I just didn’t want their weapons to make any noise.”
“Smart,” she said, stepping over one of them.
“I’m not just a pretty face, Zee.”
She snorted. “Sure you are.”
He laughed as she bent down and peered through the keyhole. Using a bit more air magic, she felt inside the lock, probing the mechanism. After she was rewarded with a click, she continued through the opening, coming out the other side and finding the deadbolt before flipping it open.
The door creaked quietly as they entered a dark hallway before closing it softly behind them. Waiting, they listened for any sounds of life.
When all seemed quiet, they ventured down the hall and stopped when they came upon a branching corridor leading towards a brightly lit room. Zarya made out the din of low chatter and the clink of cutlery, plates, and glasses, indicating a kitchen already up preparing meals for the following day or perhaps tending to a few late-night cravings for the Imarat’s residents.
Yasen pressed his finger to his lips, and they scooted past, slinking deeper into the shadows. The polished marble floors gleamed in the streetlights filtering through windows covered with gauzy curtains.
Their earlier reconnaissance had revealed the ink was kept in a cabinet in the front of the building that served as a sitting area. They proceeded down the hall, pausing occasionally to listen for sounds of anyone approaching. A creak from overhead had them pressing against the wall with their breath held. They listened as footsteps neared the top of the stairs before they continued past, receding into another part of the building.
“Let’s move,” Yasen whispered. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Zarya nodded before they searched the sprawling main floor to locate the front hall. Off to the left, they found a large living area filled with plush furniture, perfect for receiving guests.
At the back was a long glass-fronted cabinet that ran nearly the length of the wall. Even in the dimness of the room, Zarya could see the inky reflection of the bottles sitting in neat rows like trophies. She suspected they kept these out in the open as a constant reminder of their power.
“Jackpot,” Yasen said, giving Zarya a triumphant look.
She nodded, and they prowled closer, still keeping one ear peeled, when she noticed the large padlock fastened to the front of the cabinet.
“It’s locked,” she whispered. “They didn’t say anything about a lock.”
Yasen picked it up, studying the heavy contraption before gently laying it down. “I wonder if they added it after we blew up the factory.”
“Great,” Zarya said, her gaze tracing the edges and lines of the cabinet, searching for another way inside.
“Can you use your magic to open it?” Yasen asked as he ran his fingers along the edges of the door, clearly having similar thoughts. There were no visible joints or weak spots, so the lock was the only option short of smashing the glass.
“I’ll try,” she said. As she had with the door, she spun out a thread of air and fed it into the keyhole. With her tongue wedged in the corner of her mouth, she rooted inside it, searching for a way to spring the mechanism.
“Zee, hurry up,” Yasen said, his gaze flicking towards the doorway and back again.
“I’m trying,” she snapped. “This is hard.”
He grunted but said nothing as she continued to poke and prod. This lock was far more complex than the one guarding the back. Perhaps the factory explosion had rattled the Jadugara more than they were letting on.
As she worked, it took her a few moments to notice another sound filling the quiet room. Clinking. A soft chime, like beads tinkling in a breeze.
“What’s that noise?” Yasen asked as their gazes drifted to the bottles that were now…vibrating. Zarya placed a hand on the cabinet while they shook harder, the ringing of glass growing louder.
“My magic,” Zarya whispered in horror. There was so much ink here. Was it reacting to her mere presence ? She curled her magic back, hoping to settle the bottles, but they continued to rattle, the sound swelling to fill every corner of the room.
“Zee, do something!” Yasen whisper-yelled. “Make them stop.”
“I don’t know how,” she whispered back. “Wait, let me try?—”
She inhaled a deep breath and allowed her sixth anchor loose. She had controlled the ink with it earlier, so maybe this would work.
It was then that several things happened at once.
Light filled the room, and a deep male voice shouted, “What are you doing?”
Zarya had just enough time to register the Jadugara’s signature blood-red robes before she noticed the shaking bottles were now bouncing where they stood, the sound like a hailstorm of nails dropping onto crystal.
“Duck!” Yasen cried just as he threw himself on top of her, flattening them both to the floor as the cabinet shattered with a crash that made her eardrums ring. Black ink exploded everywhere, coating them from head to toe.
“Arrest them!” came the fevered cries as the entire building began to stir awake. They had to get out of here.
“Get up,” Yasen said, “we have to run.”
“But we didn’t get anything,” Zarya said as Yasen tugged on her arm. With her sixth anchor already at her fingertips, she cast out a puff of dark shadows that descended over the room, obscuring everything in darkness.
“Please tell me that was you,” she heard Yasen say as she reached out for him, clasping his hand.
“Stay next to me,” she said as she felt out for the direction of the cabinet, hoping against hope that something had survived. She moved towards the edge of the room and to the bottles that had been farthest away. “See if you can find any still intact.”
She heard Yasen moving next to her as they ran their hands over the shelves. “Shit,” Zarya hissed as she cut herself on a piece of glass. “Yas?”
“Got some,” he said before she felt him grab her wrist and then push down on her head. They dropped to their knees as they listened to the panic of clashing weapons and thudding bodies. While Zarya’s shadows continued to darken the atmosphere, they crawled along the wall until they found the exit.
“The door,” Yasen said, yanking on her sleeve. “This way.”
Keeping low to the ground where the shadows were thinner, they arrived at the front entrance. Yasen reached up to swing open the door, and then together, they tumbled outside.
“Get up!” Yasen shouted as they rolled down the front steps. Morning was arriving, and the sun was just starting to rise over the rooftops.
“Hey!” shouted one of the guards who spotted them. “Who are you?”
“Don’t mind us. We’re just leaving,” Yasen said, leaping to his feet and tugging on Zarya’s arm before they turned and ran for their lives.