Chapter 2
I killed someone today.
And I don’t regret it.
What is regret for one death, when I’m standing atop a massacre?
—Letter from Kiyan to his family, unsent
Kiyan
It’s got to be here.
I’d torn up the entire room, opened all the books, emptied out every drawer, and still the map eluded me.
Why did they have to hide it so well that even their own family couldn’t unearth it?
I raked my hand through my hair, leaning back in the armchair of the tiny forgotten library of the palace.
If the map to Queen Azari’s vault wasn’t here, I didn’t know where it would be.
And if the Viceroy got to the ancient queen’s crown before I did, our entire Court would be decimated.
I cast my gaze out of the window, toward the towering Mountain in the distance.
Tirich Mir. The Mountain that loomed over the River Court, reminding us of what we had lost.
“Aren’t you supposed to be tracking down rebels, boy? You’re not being a very good hunting dog right now, despite your reputation.”
I jolted upright, tearing my eyes away from Tirich Mir, as General Faisal slinked into the room, picking up a piece of paper and attempting to read it before furrowing his brow and tossing it aside.
My gaze flickered to the page scrawled with the ancient language of the River Court. He likely didn’t even know how to read.
I snorted to myself, then masked my amusement. “What do you want, Faisal?”
“So touchy. You should be overjoyed I’m back.” He walked around the chair toward me and then stopped, leaning against the wooden desk, his face expectant, daring me to ask why he was here instead of fighting for Salt in the war against the other peri Courts.
I narrowed my eyes, giving in to his goading. “And why is that?”
“Because you now have help executing all those rebels you once called friends.”
My fingers pressed so hard into the wood I was surprised it didn’t crack in half.
But I didn’t react, keeping my face a smooth mask. Everything depended on me not reacting.
Instead, I stood, slowly, a calculated smile curving my lips. I planted my hands on the desk and leaned forward as though I hadn’t a care in the world.
My voice was low and quiet. “There’s whispers the rebels are trying to bring back the royal family.”
All the color leached from the general’s face, and I almost laughed. Behind his monstrous exterior, he hadn’t the strength nor power to go up against the might of the River Court at full capacity, and he knew it.
I tilted my head, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m trying to find their source and if there’s any truth to the rumors.
The last thing you need is for the royal family to be released from Tirich Mir and wreak havoc on the carefully preserved peace you’ve crafted.
” My words fell light and mocking—on the edge of what I could reasonably get away with.
“That’s . . . not possible.” He took half a step back, panic lacing his tone. “They’re enclosed in a cursed tomb by dead Queen Azari’s magic. If there was any way to unlock the door to the Mountain, the Viceroy would have found it and killed them.”
I nodded, keeping my face blank. “And that’s exactly what we’re looking for. If the rebels have the ability to bring the royal family back, we want to know.” My voice was solemn and quiet, even though my heart was hammering so loud in my chest it felt as if it were going to burst free.
So that I can get to them first.
A familiar longing settled in my stomach at the thought of them being finally released from Tirich Mir, the Mountain Palace. At the thought of us taking it all back.
At no longer having to hunt and execute members of my own Court.
“It’s impossible,” the general said again, shaking his head, the color still not returning to his face. “The curse on Tirich Mir is as impenetrable as the River wall to the human lands.”
“Nothing is impenetrable,” I muttered under my breath. The same thing I’d been telling myself all these years.
Nothing is impenetrable.
I walked past the general in the doorway, but his voice stopped me, his demeanor changing back from acute fear to his usual smug vileness.
“I almost forgot to tell you. You’re needed in the dungeons.” A smile slithered through his voice, and I paused, my stomach dropping.
Faisal only experienced joy at the expense of other’s pain.
That meant whatever was in the dungeons wasn’t good.
My eyes slid to the pulse at his throat, thinking how easy it would be to use my magic to command a thorn from the roses on the desk to slash his throat clean across.
Death by flower. Fitting for such a man.
“Why? There are no new prisoners down there.” I knew every single one, and had a plan of escape for them all.
His greasy smile returned in full force. “We’ve caught more of your rebels.”
* * *
I wove through the halls of the River Palace, keeping my footsteps brisk but measured. The general followed behind, huffing to keep up as I barreled toward the dungeon.
There was no way he’d actually caught a rebel, not with the safeguards I’d put in place to prevent that from happening.
The members of my guard were all loyal to me, and when it came to it, loyal to the Court of River.
They would never allow a true member of the Red Jasmine Rebellion to slip into the hands of the Salt soldiers. I’d made sure of it.
But when I arrived at the dungeon, I stopped short.
Two boys were on their knees on the stone floor, their heads bowed.
They weren’t in cells with the other prisoners, but hands tied behind their back in a cell in the main room.
A small window in the corner of the room allowed the afternoon light to illuminate the tears on their cheeks, the blood on their mouths.
They were no older than thirteen, their limbs too big for their bodies, not yet properly grown into their skin.
One had longish hair, cropped at his nape, the other a shorn head, as though he’d scraped it over with a shaving blade, the bumpy shape of his skull giving him an eerie look.
Cuts and bruises marred their hands and necks, evidence that they’d already been tortured.
One was struggling to remain upright, shaking against the pain in his wounds.
The general entered the dungeons behind me and leaned against the entrance door.
I breathed through my nose and curled my hands into fists at my sides, anger heating my blood.
“Who did this?” My voice was low and violent.
“I did,” the general replied, picking his teeth with his nails. “They were caught by a Salt patrol trying to drum up support for the rebel cause. They needed a little roughing up, but I’ll still leave the real torture for the Viceroy.” A laugh tainted his words, and I nearly bared my teeth at him.
“They’re boys,” I said dismissively. “They know nothing of the rebels.”
“Weren’t you just a boy when you decided to join the Viceroy? Children can still fight. They still commit treason, can still attack our troops. Don’t be so soft, dog.”
I didn’t bother to spare him a glance. “The Viceroy entrusted me to deal with the rebels. Surely you have better things to deal with, given Salt is actively fighting wars with every other peri Court right now.” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to calm the fury tainting my voice.
If I could, I’d rip the general’s head from his body and dump him in the River.
If killing him meant I wouldn’t damn every other peri in my Court, he would have been dead years ago.
“We’ve had a few victories of late,” Faisal said with a smug grin, his voice bouncing off the walls of the stone dungeon. “Nothing like the way the Court of River folded, though. You can’t fight Salt with water,” he said, the air between us thick with tension.
I flinched at the words, the mantra often repeated by the soldiers of the Court of Salt.
His teeth shone in the flickering torchlight, and I was reminded of the day they’d come, remembered the heel of his boot on my father’s face as the Viceroy had laughed. Right before they’d slit his throat.
“Besides, I felt the need to bloody my own hands today.” He flexed his fingers out in front of him.
My own fists balled tightly at my side. I’d sooner cut his hands off before he touched these boys again.
But this was about more than them. It was about their families, anyone who knew them.
He’d keep them alive with torture until they turned in their own sister, brother, grandmother.
It was how they rationalized their murder of us.
We were the barbaric threat, and they the civilized peacekeepers.
I looked at the bloodied boys in front of me, evidence of their civilization.
“Nevertheless, if they know anything about the Red Jasmine, I will be the one to find it out,” I gritted out through clenched teeth, trying to maintain my composure.
“Really? Good. I’m in the mood to watch.”
“I won’t be doing the kind of torturing you like,” I reasoned, with a grim smile.
He raised a brow at me in challenge. “I had assumed not. Not when the Viceroy is so particularly good at it. He’ll purge their minds before they can call for their mother.”
Something curdled in my stomach at his mention of Reza again. The Viceroy wasn’t due back for a few weeks yet and I didn’t want him involved in any hunt for the rebels. Better for him to be kept away defending the border of the River Court.
But these boys wouldn’t last that long under Faisal’s torture.
The general pushed away from the door, striding from the dungeon. “Just don’t be soft on them—if they are old enough to fight, they are old enough to bear the punishment of betrayal. No one in River is really innocent anyway. You’re all guilty by birth.”
My blood boiled, a river of fire inside my veins, but still I pressed my hands to my sides and didn’t look toward him. He could needle me all he liked; he’d never get a reaction.
I waited until he left, until the Salt soldiers took their leave at my nod, until only my personal guard remained. I glanced over at them, until they turned around, their backs facing me.