Chapter 23
Nina found the cords of their wills with little effort, but tearing the men apart was a much different task than mending.
The intricacies of the body and mind were foreign to her and she remembered now that it required a certain kind of finesse.
The boys in the alley had been naive practice. These men before her were the final test.
They hadn’t been expecting an attack. As they walked closer to Kasik, she had plunged into their minds with the ease of childish
want and frustration. There had been a moment of resistance that had easily melted away with the first drops of blood soaking
into the dry earth. And once their blood was spilled, it was as if Nina’s attay was boosted with satisfaction. It became brighter
and simpler to wield. Easier to tear them apart from the inside out.
Truly, Nina hadn’t planned on killing them, but it was a delicious descent into darkness, one that had terrified her only
because she had misunderstood it. This darkness wasn’t an absence of light—it was simply the choice to extinguish it. All
the power lay in her hands, and the darkness was hers alone to command.
Finally, she understood what her mamay had tried to teach her. In this acceptance, there was calm and control, and her purpose
was clearer than ever.
These men could not take what they knew to Emperor Maicu. It would ruin all her plans and consign them all to death, including
Kasik. The only option was their death.
So, she refocused her attay on their hearts.
Their blood. The vessels that carried it and the organs that carried them.
She directed her will to latch on to their threads of life, to suffocate, to twist and tear apart.
Perhaps it was easy because she had half done it before, or perhaps because she wanted it more than she could remember wanting anything else.
It was a desire that deserved further inspection but was squashed beneath the satisfaction that came with listening to their silent screams.
In hindsight, she could have gone straight for their hearts and saved them the suffering of a slow death, but it was over
in such a short amount of time, their bodies collapsing to the ground surrounded by pools of blood, that it didn’t matter
much at all.
What surprised her the most, however, was the fact that it was much easier to kill than to heal. She didn’t feel her life
force draining away like she had when she had been feeding it to Kasik or Mika. Her mind felt present, clear, as if their
deaths were feeding her. Nina wanted to be horrified, appalled by the prospect, but she felt nothing except pleased with herself.
Until their life forces were not enough to sustain, just shadows in her mind, and then she was weak and hungry for more. A
despicable craving had awoken inside her, and as she fell to her knees, she couldn’t think of anything else but taking more.
The glow of threads was so bright that she had to close her eyes against it. Kasik cradled her in his arms, his body warm
and hard and welcome against hers. His threads were nowhere to be found. The achilla around his neck knew she meant all them
harm, that the power inside her was frenzied with need.
Kasik gently lowered her to a bed in a nearby tent and crouched before her, blocking the sight of the others behind him. A
voice asked a question, and Kasik responded.
“They just dropped. I don’t know what happened, but Nina, she—something’s not right here.”
There was terror in his eyes—an emotion Nina hadn’t seen from him before. Not when the achiyanga came after them, or when
Hatun and his men had captured them. There had been fury and promise then. Resolve. She knew he was spiraling and that it
was her fault.
A hand circled his shoulder. “We’re not in any danger,” Shayim said, her eyes on Nina. “Hatun, take care of the bodies and
send someone to check on the children.”
Nina began to feel more like herself with every breath, whatever danger she possessed leaking away to leave behind a burning
in her belly and a bone-deep exhaustion.
“You’re okay,” Kasik murmured, his hands slipping over her thighs. Shayim handed her a canteen, and she lifted a weak hand
to take it. Kasik supported the bottom as she tipped it to her lips. The water was cool, but it did nothing to satisfy her
hunger.
“What if there are more?” Kasik asked. Nina inspected his profile while he sent an accusatory glare at Shayim. “How did they
get past your so-called power?”
There aren’t more, Nina wanted to say. She could see threads from every corner of her vision. All of them close, all of them bright and tempting.
Beyond their camp, the forest was relentlessly dark. There was no one else.
In front of her, Kasik’s will began to glow like a timid animal that needed gentle coaxing. She reached out a hand to touch
him, but the flap of the tent blew open and Hatun marched through.
“The bodies have been taken care of,” he said. Blood dripped from the tip of a blade in his hand and hit the earth with a
thud that vibrated in Nina’s ears.
She blinked and the tent was gone. Another blink and the men were on their knees in front of her, the sky stretched out above them like an all-seeing eye that watched as they fell, their bodies twisted, their will undone, extinguished within them.
Nina sucked in a sob and pressed her hands to her chest. Warm hands slipped over her cheeks. Kasik’s earthy scent filled her
and his whispered words slithered beneath her skin, offering comfort she knew she didn’t deserve.
She had killed those men and had taken satisfaction from it. Worse still, she felt no guilt, no remorse. They would have exposed
their secrets. She thought of Mika in her tent, the children who ran wild, the women who laughed and danced. Secrets worth
killing to keep.
It struck Nina then, the weight of what she had to do. What she now knew she could do.
Kill Emperor Maicu. Do away with the threat to her family, to Shayim’s ayllu, to the other girls and boys taken from their
homes and forced to serve the empire. And then she could be free, her conscience clean. Her debt to the gods repaid. For this
power was their gift to her, and even if she didn’t want it, she would have to pay the price.
Kasik gently brushed the hair from her face. “I’m okay,” she told him, and he blew out a breath. In the corner of the tent,
Shayim and Hatun spoke animatedly until they felt her gaze on them. When Shayim met her eyes, Nina saw the pride and gratitude
and determination there.
Rebel camp, Kuna had said, his teeth glinting like weapons in the night. But that wasn’t quite right. This camp, these people, were a movement, and Shayim had been expecting her.
“Your attay failed,” Nina whispered slowly, working through the pieces she held in her mind. “You said the camp was hidden.”
“It was,” Shayim agreed. “But this moment needed to happen. The only reason why those men found this camp is because I let
them.”
“Are you saying that you willingly put the lives of powerless and innocent people in jeopardy,” Kasik said, his tone disbelieving, “to prove a point?”
“Why do you assume we are powerless? Because we are outside of your emperor’s purview?” Shayim tutted like a mamay scolding
foolish children. “The only point that needs proving is the fact that you are blinded by your loyalty. You couldn’t see the
truth if it slapped you in the face.”
Kasik’s hands fisted at his sides. Nina had the urge to defend him, but she didn’t have anything to say against Shayim’s words.
“The truth of what, Shayim? Of who you are and your supposed power? We don’t have time for your lies.” He grabbed Nina’s arm and gently lifted
her to her feet. “We’re leaving, and so should all of you. It’s not safe here any longer.”
“It’s not safe where you’re going, either,” Hatun added with a scoff.
“We can’t leave.” Nina placed a hand over Kasik’s, hoping her touch would calm him like it often did Sacha when she was in
the throes of a nightmare. “Not yet. I have to—”
“I will not stay here and see you suffer the same monstrous fate as those men.”
“I won’t,” Nina promised softly, “because I am the one who placed it upon them.”