Chapter Fifteen Amunet #2
The prince swore as he staggered back and hit the wall behind him.
He was a slender but tall man about ten years older than me with dark skin.
He had to stoop so his head wouldn’t hit the low ceiling.
A female guard beside him put out a hand to steady him, but he batted her away and straightened, smoothing his hands down his shirt before he plastered on a smile, blinking like a blinded owl.
“My queen,” he said again, bowing so deep that a few of his braids fell into his bowl. “You’re… here. In Reeda. Alive.”
“Indeed I am.”
“What a… delight. Yes, of course, I am delighted to see you! It’s just that… we had word from Ketopolis that the Kaldfolk infiltrated the palace and took you prisoner. It was our assumption that you’d been killed, like the king.”
Taken prisoner? That meant the Kaldfolk had left Khada Palace and my decoy could still be alive.
If that was the Kaldfolk’s plan, they must have a bigger purpose for the Gods-Chosen.
My decoy’s deception couldn’t last much longer, and when they finally realized the truth, they’d come for me again.
Not to mention that news of Zaid’s death had evidently beaten us to Reeda.
If it had reached Nasir, it could have reached Ilias, Anwar, and Sen, too.
I did not even have Shaya to protect me. Jasim would do his best, but we’d gotten lucky to escape Khada Palace with just a few scratches. Without my father’s help, I didn’t think we’d be lucky a second time.
I needed to get to the Temple of Shaya. Quickly.
“Clearly I’m not dead,” I replied to Nasir.
He smiled. “No. Though someone should check you’re not a ghost.” He laughed and made a move as if to check for himself but knocked his knee on the table leg, sending more food splattering over the tabletop. “Shit,” he muttered, while the gathered soldiers did their best to right the mess.
I swallowed a sigh. Somehow I’d misremembered Nasir as only slightly clumsy instead of the bumbling buffoon he was.
This was my salvation. How comforting.
Before I could demand supplies or a small contingent to take me to the Wastelands, Nasir said, “You must be exhausted from your long journey. We’ll have rooms prepared for you right away.
In the meantime, please, eat.” He flapped his hands frantically at the girl in fighting leathers beside him, whose hair was wrapped in a headscarf.
She sent me a dirty look as she rose and grabbed a plate for me, and the back of my neck burned.
I fisted my hands at my sides to keep from scratching—and to keep from lashing out at her.
King Zaid would have her punished for such a blatant display of disrespect.
But I didn’t think a show of brute strength would win me any favors.
Biting back my anger, I watched her assemble bits of chicken, flatbread, and what could be either watery cheese or congealed milk.
My nose threatened to curl, but I fought it, nodding my thanks as I accepted the plate.
Another guard vacated their seat, and I took it, sitting directly across from Nasir, who managed to lower himself back into his chair without spontaneously combusting. Jasim remained at my back. A glance out of the corner of my eye showed he was firmly gripping both scimitars.
I dipped the bread in the cheese milk and used every trick I knew to keep my disgust from showing. Sour. Chewy. The meager crumbs Jasim and I had been living off for the last week were preferable to this. Still, I swallowed it and smiled. “Thank you.”
Nasir’s smile was crooked. “I know it cannot compete with the palace’s cooks, but hopefully it is tolerable.”
The bread scraped along my throat all the way down. “It’s great. In fact, I’d like to pack some of this with me.”
Nasir’s brows rose. “Leaving already, my queen?”
“I’d like to make a sacrifice at my father’s temple before the Igniting.”
“But… the temple is in the Wastelands,” he stated. As if I were an idiot who did not know the location of my own father’s temple.
The burn at my neck intensified. It took everything in me not to scratch. “Yes. My father wishes for a personal visit.”
“Goodness,” Nasir mumbled as he lifted a bite to his mouth, a dollop of that cheese milk landing on his shirt. He didn’t notice. “A demanding father, the God of the Underworld, eh?”
I smiled stiffly. “I’d like to take a small contingent with me. In addition to supplies. The temple is not too far into the Wastelands, but I would like to err on the side of caution. That is, if you find that amenable,” I added begrudgingly. Oh, so very civilized and behaved.
“I would love to help you, Gods-Chosen. It would be my greatest privilege. But…” Nasir winced apologetically.
“Sending my people to the temple puts them at risk. A hefty one, if I correctly recall King Zaid’s time in the Wastelands.
And as you can probably see, we don’t have much to spare, in supplies or warriors.
Not to mention that housing you for even a night brings the danger of the Kaldfolk’s return.
” Nasir pressed a hand to his heart and peered at me with those owl eyes.
“I’m afraid I cannot, in good conscience, order my warriors into the Wastelands. It would have to be their choice.”
It took far too long to remind myself that queens did not lunge across tables. “Do you not have control of your own people, Nasir?”
“He’s not a dictator,” the female soldier bit out, accusation shining in her eyes.
“They could be convinced,” he said quickly. “Couldn’t you, Sara?”
The female soldier crossed her arms and sat back in her chair.
I nearly ordered Jasim to slice her hands off. Better yet, slice the back of my neck to stop this fucking itch. “What do you want, Nasir?”
Excitement lit up his face, and he leaned forward, hands clasped loosely on the table, looking me in the eye. A disconcerting look, with the bits of golden magic floating in his irises. “I want my land back,” he said. “Along the Lotus River.”
I nearly laughed. The last time I’d been to Reeda, the prince had been nothing but strictly cordial and agreeable.
Everything I’d said had been met with a Yes, my princess.
But he’d always been cunning, despite his lack of hand-eye coordination.
It was why he’d never revolted, even after the king had kicked his family off their land and his father had been slaughtered by the Khada Guard.
Why he’d allowed me to enter his home at all when he knew I’d yet to be officially crowned queen and the throne was empty. Fighting would not help his people.
But this. This would.
“Fine,” I said. “The Miqaf Estate in exchange for my safe journey to—and from—Shaya’s temple.”
Nasir smiled, bits of gold alight in his eyes. “You truly are sent by the gods, my queen.”
My smile was thin. I couldn’t bask in the victory; it was taking every ounce of concentration not to just scratch, scratch, scratch. And those claws on glass were doing more than just tapping; they were scraping. A shudder slithered down my spine.
Nasir pushed back from the table and stood, causing minimal damage this time. “Allow me to show you where you’ll be staying for the night. Tomorrow, your escort will be ready.”
Nasir took me up a flight of stairs, Jasim just a step behind.
The prince opened the door to a modest room—though, compared to the rest of the house, it was large.
Windows along the right wall let in the humid air, ruffling the linen sheets on the bed in the center.
Faded paintings decorated the walls, mostly landscapes of the Lotus River and the Miqafs’ old home.
“I hope it’s to your liking, my queen.”
I offered Nasir my most winning smile. “Yes, thank you.”
The moment he was gone, my eyes locked on the wall sconce. I chucked my wig aside and yanked the candle out, the flame flickering precariously.
“What are you doing?” Jasim asked.
“I have to try again.”
“Try what?”
“I should’ve tried before.” I dropped to my knees, eyes closed, and clutched the candle tightly between my hands.
Baba, please, I prayed. Please talk to me.
The wind that blew through the windows was heavy and humid. Not Shaya’s.
My neck prickled again. I clenched my hands hard, feeling the hard wax dig into my palms as I redoubled my focus. Baba, I’m sorry. I’ve angered you. Please forgive me. End this punishment. Get rid of this itch and this racket. I can’t think. I can barely breathe without wanting to flay myself.
No response.
Jasim ventured, “My queen?”
“Shut up!” My voice came out high-pitched. Even I could hear the hysteria in it. My chest constricted, stomach curdling. Baba, please. I miss you. I need you.
I barely breathed as I waited. And waited. There was no supernatural breeze. No sign at all that my father had heard me.
My eyes opened. The candle’s flame burned, hardly even flickering in the desert wind.
Taunting me.
“My queen.” Jasim crouched on the other side of the candle, brows drawn closely together, questions chasing each other in his eyes.
Both my hands went up to my neck. “He’s not answering.” The itch persisted. In fact, it seemed to intensify with every pass of my nails. “Why isn’t he answering?”
“Stop that.” Jasim pulled my hands away from my skin, held my wrists in one hand while his other angled my head so he could see the back of my neck. “Gods,” he breathed. He held up my hands. There was blood under my nails. “What have you done?”
It had been too long. My body was rebelling at Shaya’s absence. Everything that I was, my eventual power, my goals, my very existence, was because of Shaya. The parent that never left me. The one that wanted me so badly he’d struck a deal with King Zaid.
Did… did he no longer want me?
My heart threatened to crack at the mere thought.
“My queen. My queen. Amunet.” I looked up at Jasim. He still held my wrists, dark eyes boring into me.
“He’s punishing me.”
Jasim shook his head. “What? Who?”
“Shaya.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Amunet.” Jasim pulled my fingers away from my neck again.
I hadn’t even realized I’d jerked them out of his grip.
He held my hands firmly to the wooden slats of the floor, trapping them between us.
Even though his grip was unforgiving, his voice was gentle.
“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t reach Shaya? ”
Because it can’t be true.
Because he chose me. He chose me. He wouldn’t just leave me.
“Amunet,” Jasim whispered, and cupped my face. “You’re shaking.”
“I have to get to the temple. Please understand, I have to do this. I have to—”
“Hey.” He tilted my head back so I was forced to meet his eyes. Familiar and beautiful brown. “I’m going to get you to the temple. I promise.”
My fingers curled into his tunic, clinging to him like he was a lifeline.
He tugged me into him and wrapped his arms around me.
Though tremors still racked my frame and fear churned in my gut, I melted into his embrace.
It wasn’t fair of me, but he was warm and safe.
I buried my face in his neck, his beard scratching comfortingly against my shaved head, and breathed in the fresh woody smell of river reeds.
For just the briefest moment, the claws in my head quieted.
Jasim held me for a few moments before he murmured, “You’re tired. Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
I smiled slightly against his skin. “You haven’t slept, either.”
“I’ll be fine.” Still hugging me, he helped me up to my feet.
Perhaps it was a good thing I couldn’t reach Shaya. If he saw me now, unable to make it to the bed not five feet away because of something as trivial as fear, he’d probably disown me.
The thought sent ice through my veins.
Was that what this silence was? Had he disowned me? Why? What could I have done that was so unforgivable he wouldn’t speak to me before abandoning me?
Fear turned over my stomach.
Who was the Gods-Chosen without the god that had chosen her?