Chapter Forty-Six Amunet
FORTY-SIX AMUNET
Speak,” the jinni commanded in a voice loud enough to make my teeth rattle.
I swallowed past the dryness of my throat. Jinn were minions of Shaya, created by the last embers of his soul, possessors of great power. And judging by this one’s size, it was ancient.
Jasim grabbed my arms and moved as if to push me behind him. But I shook him off. He gave me a wide-eyed, incredulous look as I stepped forward. “What are you doing?”
“It’s a jinni, Jasim.” A creature capable of speaking directly to Shaya. Tears of relief threatened to well up, but I choked them back as I turned to the stony face again. “Great jinni,” I greeted. “It is a sincere honor to meet you. My name is Amunet Khada.”
“Khada.” The jinni’s flaming eyes considered me. “I am only able to grant one request for you, Amunet Khada. What is it that you want?”
Only one request. I knew jinn sometimes used their great power to help mortals—usually with another shoe ready to drop at the most inconvenient time. But I was in Dead Man’s Forest, fleeing for my life. How much worse could it get?
Let me speak to Shaya.
Return me to Khada Palace.
Either one of those would have been helpful.
Yet they seemed too… small. The jinni must have been sent by Shaya directly, that was why it had saved us from the nasnas.
But I didn’t think my father would waste a jinni on moving me somewhere else, when he could have just deposited me there himself.
Especially not one so ancient. No, Shaya brought me to this jinni so I could ask for something specific.
There was only one thing Shaya cared about.
“I want to feel my power.”
“What?” Jasim grabbed my elbow. “Amunet, no, ask it to take us home.”
The jinni’s blazing eyes flared until I saw their light on the backs of my lids with every blink. “The power that awaits the Gods-Chosen at the Igniting,” he repeated. “This is what you want?”
“No.” Jasim stepped in front of me, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You’ll get your power in a few days. Shaya is giving us a way out of here. We have to take it.”
I hesitated. This was what Shaya wanted of me.
I knew it on an instinctual level. And the anticipation rising within me…
It was what I wanted, too. After all the taunting from Zaid’s voice in my head—voicing my own doubts—and nearly a month without a single word from my father, I needed this reassurance.
I needed to know he hadn’t sent me into Dead Man’s Forest to throw me away.
I needed to know the god still chose me.
And after being locked up, after being chased by creatures with half a face, I needed to stop feeling weak.
But the imploring look Jasim was giving me…
We were meant to be a team now. His opinion mattered to me. I’d never felt so conflicted, weighing his want against Shaya’s. The scales tipped back and forth in my mind. Goodness against loyalty. Goodness against strength. Goodness against me.
The jinni’s eyes blazed over Jasim’s head. “Is this your one request, Khada?”
Jasim murmured, “Amunet…”
I tore my gaze from his. “Yes,” I breathed. “This is my request.”
The jinni’s eyes flared, a flame so bright I had to shield my eyes.
It was instantaneous. A heat settled on my skin like a blanket, seeped in, melted into me.
I gasped as it skittered through my chest, calcified my heart, my lungs.
A fire that warmed me from within, filled me with Shaya’s spirit, brimming with his strength.
Nothing like the chill on Zaid’s balcony all those years ago.
There was no darkness, only fire. Burning and powerful and bright.
My fingertips tingled as if any second flames would burst from them.
It was everywhere, raw and overwhelming and oh so delicious.
This. This was what was waiting for me. Access to this wonderful, crackling power.
A tear leaked from my eye as I looked back up at the jinni. “Thank—”
But the face had disappeared, replaced by smooth stone again.
“What have you done?” Jasim whispered.
A yip sounded.
We whirled, Jasim’s blade flashing.
People emerged from the trees. They wore plain clothes made of leather, all earth tones of muted greens and brown.
Perfect for blending in with the forest. Their heads and faces were wrapped in thick fabric.
In their hands, they held spears so sharp I could practically feel their bite from several feet away.
Arrows were aimed directly at our heads.
But more concerning than their weapons were their eyes. They were rimmed in kohl and beamed out of their faces.
Yellow eyes.
One stepped forward. In the gap of the mask where her eyes shone out, I could make out crow’s-feet. Her shoulders were pushed back, confidence radiated out of her. The obvious leader. “You have stolen from the Cirra Tribe.”
Cirra Tribe? I’d never heard of such a people. And a tribe… that implied… “Do you—live in Dead Man’s Forest?” Impossible. People could not survive in Dead Man’s Forest without entirely losing their minds or being gobbled up by the nightmarish creatures that dwelled there.
But judging by their Shifter eyes, they were one of those nightmares.
The woman ignored my question. “Cirra grants one request every year.” Cirra must’ve been the name of the jinni.
“Only one. And every year we wish for rain. Cirra gives us enough for a single year and returns so we can renew that wish. But you,” she seethed, dipping her chin to glare at me over her nose. “You have stolen it.”
“We did not know of your custom,” Jasim replied. “It was not taken intentionally—”
“It was taken all the same.” Another woman stepped forward, younger than the first. “And we will have it returned to us.”
Darkly, I asked, “How?”
“You will be bled,” she proclaimed. “Just enough to take the wish from your blood. We will right this wrong. Your friend”—her eyes slid to Jasim—“will be left unharmed.”
Fuck that. I reached for my power, intent on dropping the whole of the tribe like flies.
I smacked into a wall. My power was there, just beyond the mental barrier, but… I couldn’t grasp it. I should be able to snap the woman’s neck with a thought. But I could do nothing as she demanded what was rightfully mine. Not for a few more days, at least.
Realization settled, and I felt like screaming. The other shoe hadn’t just dropped; it had walloped me upside the head.
“I can give you your wish,” I said, strategy pivoting. “In a few days, I will have power. I’ll bring your rain.”
“Amunet,” Jasim hissed.
The woman cocked her head to the side. “Amunet. Khada?” She huffed, as if amazed by her good fortune. “I have changed my mind.” She glanced to the younger woman at her shoulder and then to her people at large. “Kill them.”
In unison, they tore off their face coverings, revealing the blue markings underneath.
Tendrils of blue twisted around their mouths, trailed down their necks.
Skin contracted and shifted over bone, rearranging itself.
And then one by one, their spears and arrows were abandoned as they dropped to all fours, faces elongating, ears sliding up to the tops of their heads, hands becoming paws.
In the next heartbeat, a pack of hyenas glared at us. Too large to be natural.
“Run.” Jasim grabbed my arm and jerked me into motion. “Now!”
We bolted for the second time that night.
Their cackles and yips followed us, their stampede making the ground tremble.
“You should’ve just done what they said!” Jasim shouted.
“It’s my power,” I gasped as I pumped my arms faster.
“Gods-dammit, Amunet!” One of the hyenas got too close. Jasim swung his scimitar. Blood splashed. The Shifter howled in pain and fell back. We ran faster. My lungs burned, my panicked breaths drowned out the howls at our backs.
I darted around a tree—and the earth vanished beneath me.
I swallowed a scream as I slid down a small ravine and hit the bottom with a grunt. Jasim slammed into the earth beside me but was up again in the next breath, dragging me after him.
A thicket of dry branches. Jasim shoved me under it and then squeezed in beside me. My nose curled against the stench of what I prayed was a foul-smelling flower and not left over from an animal, especially as Jasim smeared it all over my body and then his to conceal our scents.
Jasim put a finger to his lips. I covered my mouth to quiet my erratic breaths and stared into his dark eyes just as I had when the chimera had approached. But there was none of that false calm this time. Both of our eyes were wide, our chests rising and falling rapidly.
Thundering footsteps neared us and paused. I imagined they were scenting the air. I clamped my eyes shut. Jasim took my hand and I clutched his.
After several breathless minutes, their steps started moving again.
In the opposite direction.
My eyes opened. Jasim gestured for me to wait. We didn’t move until the strange stillness of the forest settled back over us. Finally, Jasim nodded.
My breath streamed out through my teeth.
Jasim flopped against the earth, not caring that he was lying in shit. “What is wrong with you?” he demanded. Blood trickled down his arm from where one of his wounds had reopened.
“I didn’t know a tribe lived in here. Or that they relied on a gods-damn jinni for water.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about!” He lurched upright again. Eyes nearly black with his rage. “You’re getting your power in a few days, Amunet! You didn’t need it now.”
“But I wanted it.” I crawled out of the thicket and stood. My eyes landed on a stick. I grabbed it and used it to scrape the shit off. Pointless. The pungent filth clung to me. It would take a proper bath to rid myself of it. Ugh.
Jasim’s gaze followed me, lips parted in bewilderment. After a moment, he stood. “It was reckless. You’re smarter than that. We could have both been killed—”
My temper flared, nerves shot by two near-death experiences.
“I am Gods-Chosen,” I snapped, whirling on him.
“But I have spent the past month and a half unsure if that was still the case, unable to connect to Shaya, hardly able to think past this awful itch and all the voices in my head. I needed to know that I was still chosen and that my power still waited for me. I am and it is. That is more important than a random Shifter tribe in Dead Man’s Forest.”
Jasim stared at me, stunned silent.
My power wrapped protective tentacles around me, bracing me. Residual adrenaline burned through my veins, welcoming the fight. Reckless, he’d called me. I anticipated what worse names must be on the tip of his tongue.
Finally, he said, “I didn’t know about the voices.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I knew about the itching, obviously, but you never said anything about voices. Is that why you did it? Because the voices told you to?”
An incredulous laugh welled inside me. “I just said it was my decision.”
“This is what you tried to tell me that night, before you were taken. When you said you were losing your mind, I didn’t realize…” He cupped my face. “Listen to me, Amunet, that wasn’t you. You didn’t mean it. I’m going to get us out of here and then find you a healer. It’s going to be okay.”
I tried to push him away, but he held his ground. “It was me.”
“You’re a good person. It was a mistake. We’ll find a way to make it up to the tribe so their people survive.”
“Jasim, you’re not listening. I made this choice because it was what I wanted—”
“You are a good person—”
“Stop saying that. It’s not a catch-all for every—”
“It is what I believe. What I have to believe. The Gods-Chosen is good and holy—”
“I was going to kill you!”
Jasim jerked as if I’d struck him.
And just like that, the illusion shattered. For both of us.
I felt stupid, so painfully fucking stupid, to have missed it before. That gleam in his eye that was just a bit too bright, the insistence on my goodness, which I was a real fool to have ever believed. It wasn’t true. None of it was true.
Jasim was a zealot. I’d known it in Khada Palace. Somehow, I’d forgotten it out here.
Of course Jasim didn’t love me. Like Zaid had said, there was nothing about me worth loving. But there were plenty of excuses to be made for the oh-so-holy Gods-Chosen.
Pain fractured my heart and spiraled through my limbs. This must be what it felt like when the insipid little organ broke.
“What do you mean?” Jasim whispered.
The laugh trapped in my chest grew hotter, grew teeth, transformed into a scream.
My neck prickled with the need to itch, and the power just out of my reach roiled as if it, too, was frustrated.
“Candles didn’t work. I needed to make a sizeable sacrifice when we got to the Temple of Shaya.
You were going to be my sacrifice, Jasim.
I kissed you and fucked you and planned to slit your throat the whole time. ”
He stared at me, lips parted in shock. He shook his head.
“Go on, tell me I’m a good person. Tell me that was a fucking mistake.
” At his silence, I continued mercilessly, wanting to feel every bit of the pain reverberating through my chest, “I’m the spawn of Shaya.
I am not a good person. I am not a hero.
Maybe that makes me the villain—or maybe it makes me nothing at all.
All I know is that there is one creature in this whole fucking world I love, and it is not you.
It will never be you. I will pick Shaya every time.
The girl you’ve convinced yourself I am doesn’t exist. When will that finally sink in? ”
The brutal words were directed as much at me as at Jasim. I was so fucking furious with myself. That fragile, misplaced hope shattered into a million pieces and scored my insides on the way down.
His usually expressive brown eyes shuttered. He took each blow with the stoicism bred into him from decades in the Khada Guard. A muscle beneath his beard popped over and over. Jasim’s voice was low when he finally said, “I think it just did.”
His shoulder brushed mine as he moved past me. He didn’t glance back as he trudged into the forest. The fog and trees swallowed him up.
I stared after him, breathing hard. I’d finally done it. I’d finally broken through.
So why did my chest ache like a picked scab? And why did I feel so hollow? Why did I feel so… sad?
I waited a few moments, but he didn’t come back. I’d pushed him beyond his promise until he’d finally left. Just like he was supposed to. Just like I knew he would—just like anyone would—if I weren’t the divine Gods-Chosen anymore.
When a breeze blew through, it sounded an awful lot like King Zaid’s mocking laugh.