Chapter 31
Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Or if I’ve forgotten what’s right or wrong and I’m just surviving.
—Letter from Kiyan to his family, unsent
Kiyan
Why work for him? Why do his bidding?
I raked my hand over my face trying to get her words out of my brain, trying to think of anything other than the questions she’d asked, cutting to the core of me.
When she’d asked about Tirich Mir, it was as if she were reading my thoughts.
She doesn’t know who you are. No one does.
That was what scared me most.
No one knows who I am.
And when I died, I would be alone.
I sat up in my bed. If I couldn’t sleep, I would do something else.
I walked out of camp, to the slow, winding river that made its way through the lower mountains that came very near our camp. Once there, I stripped off, unclipping my cloak, unbuttoning the indigo tunic of the Salt Guard and then slipping off my trousers.
I could have easily heated a bath or used the standing washbasin in my room, but being from River, we were always able to clear our heads best when we went back to the water.
I dove in, the crisp mountain water sluicing over me, returning me to myself, even if just for a moment.
When I came up for air, the moon was high above me, and I tipped my head back in the water, looking up at it.
I planted my feet in the riverbed, the water calm and shallow enough that I could stand without issue, and for a few seconds I let what little power I still had of my life magic flow through my fingers, calling on any spark of life in the river.
Jaipari, fish, mud lobster, the whisper of water chestnuts, rushes, and reeds. The roots of a babul tree responded, as well as the life spark of a woman far downriver fetching water.
In that moment I felt like the peri I was before the Court of Salt took over our Court.
I may have worked for them, but I did it to protect my people.
I’d gone to the river, but I still couldn’t forget her, nor what she’d said. It was so similar to my own story, I had felt less alone talking to her.
But you can’t completely trust her.
She’s lying to you.
I knew she was holding something back—as was I.
But the words she’d said to me felt true. Real. Familiar. Even if there was something she wasn’t telling me, there was something between us I couldn’t ignore.
I stretched my arms up to the sky and winced, the pull of Reza’s latest mark on my skin stinging across my torso. I touched it gingerly, the elongated stinger of the scorpion branded into my side.
“I never got to ask about the scorpions.”
I whirled at the sound of Yaseema’s voice, shock shooting through me at the sight of her.
As if I’d conjured her, she sat on the riverbank, the golden jewelry on her face glinting in the moonlight.
Spectacles, she called them.
Her hair, freshly chopped, hung in thick waves around her shoulders, and the determined point of her chin jutted out toward me.
I crossed my arms over my chest, giving her a pointed look.
“Watching me bathe now, Yaseema?”
She smiled, a slow stretch of her lips, a silvery glint in her eyes reflected from the moonlight, and for a second my breath caught.
“I was already here. You walked right past me.”
I gaped at her.
I’d gotten completely undressed in front of her and hadn’t even noticed she was there, because I’d been thinking about her to the point of distraction.
You’re losing your edge, brother.
“It’s only fair.” She held her hands up. “You saw me stark naked after you pulled me from a fire, so I figured it was my turn.”
I sputtered. “I did not look at you while you were naked. You were unconscious.” I uncrossed my arms. “And you should have let me know you were there.”
She released a laugh that was so throaty and deep, I wanted to join right along with her, despite my indignation.
“Save me your maidenly blushes. You undressed so fast, I barely had time to protest, let alone look. And besides, I was busy.”
She gestured to the book in her hand. “I was reading by moonlight. Sometimes it clears my head.”
“No wonder you have to wear spectacles.”
She snorted. “You didn’t answer my question, what are the scorpions for? I saw them when I first met you, but there wasn’t exactly time to ask.”
I didn’t meet her eyes, and instead looked downriver.
There was a beat of silence as I contemplated what to tell her.
“What do you know of the peris and their magic?”
“Only what I’m learning at night, in the books I took from the palace and what you’ve told me.”
“Often when our magic is used, we leave a mark . . . a stamp of sorts. It’s like a signature of who conjured it. The Court of River—stemming from Queen Azari—has such a signature, though everyone’s is a little different.”
“The jasmine,” she breathed, beginning to understand.
“Yes.”
“And it stays every time you use magic?”
“It isn’t always visible, or even there, depending on the strength of the magic. But strong magic, or magic conjured with fierce emotion such as anger or pain, leaves a stamp.”
She was quiet for a minute. Then—“The Viceroy’s signature is a scorpion.”
I nodded, meeting her eyes. “Yes.”
She sucked in a breath, her eyes roving over my torso.
Not all the marks were visible, but I knew what she was seeing.
My chest and stomach were a massacre of scar tissue, overlaying scorpions, their stingers and tails and segmented bodies lapping like burns across my skin, like a spiderweb of punishment.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft and heavy against the gentle flow of the river.
My throat grew thick.
When had anyone ever said those words to me?
But allowing emotion wasn’t part of the plan.
And the sorrow and compassion I saw shining in her eyes right now were misplaced.
The moment I let myself feel was when I gave Reza more power over me than what he already had.
“You shouldn’t be sorry. I chose this. I don’t need pity or sympathy, the marks he gave me are a reminder.”
I knew my words were harsh, but she needed to understand.
I needed to understand.
“A reminder of what?”
“Of what I fight for. Of what I fight against.”
She pursed her lips. “How long have you worked for him?”
I remembered that first day, when Reza had hauled me into the dungeons for beating his soldiers in the pit. After he’d put his first mark on me, he offered me the job. He’d wanted someone who knew the Court, someone he could control. He had no idea who I really was.
“Since I was sixteen. I was making a name for myself in the fighting rings of the city. And I had beaten most of his own soldiers. So he hired me.”
“And tortured you.”
“No more than the marks I’d get in the ring.” I tilted my head, fascinated by the emotions flitting across her face—sorrow, anger, determination.
“Can you fight back against the Viceroy, as you can in the ring?” she shot back, rage coloring her words.
I gave her a slow smile this time. “You’re beginning to understand the Viceroy.”
I swam to the edge of the water, planting my hands on the side of the riverbank, then paused. “If you don’t want another show, I would consider turning around.”
She gave a small squeak and hid her face in her book. I laughed out loud at that and hauled myself out of the water, dressing quickly, not bothering with my shirt.
“You shouldn’t be out here much longer, it isn’t completely safe—the rebels are a real threat, you know.”
“So you keep saying.” She swallowed, then begun to pack the books back in her satchel. “But it sounds more like we are making camp with the real threat.”
* * *
The next morning we rode through a small settlement in the lower mountains, a town I’d visited only once with my father, but I still remembered it.
Tashuna townsfolk stopped in their tracks upon seeing our company, and mothers grabbed their children, running inside their homes.
I didn’t blame them.
Reza adored it. He smiled smugly from his steed, the entitlement and power radiating from him. He fed on fear and panic, and I knew it was the only thing that made him feel like he had any sort of control.
“Maybe we should stop here, Kiyan. Show them a taste of the Court of Salt. They likely haven’t seen any of the fun we have in the city.”
Something dark sank in my stomach, Reza sounding like he did in the early days, when he tortured indiscriminately in order to show his authority. When the palace courtyard ran red with River blood and he laughed at rebel attempts to fight back.
“We likely don’t have time,” I said blandly, without any inflection.
“Come, Kiyan. We have to stop for the night in any case. We might as well stop here.”
Dread seeped into my veins, but as usual I kept my face immovable.
I glanced toward Yaseema—and she looked back at me as if sensing my unease.
“Very well,” I answered. “There is a caravanserai at the end of town. I suggest we make our way there before nightfall.”
“And in the morning, I can greet the people.”
I nodded, tightening my hands on the reins.
“Where are we?” whispered Yaseema, her voice low and concerned.
“Tashuna. It’s the last town before the lower mountains. It was an important place for the ancient peris.”
I didn’t know why I was repeating the lessons my father had given me when we’d last been together, but Yaseema seemed to want to know everything and anything, looking intently before she usually scribbled it down in one of her journals.
Now she was hanging off my words as if she were going to write a book about them.
I looked over at Reza, but he had ridden ahead, likely looking around for pet animals he could kill in front of the village children.
“Why was it important?”
“It had a great concentration of magic, and one of the most famous goldsmiths made their home here. As a result, many royal peris came to get the magical pieces made that would have been conduits for their life magic.”
“Like Queen Azari’s haath phool,” she said, referencing the hand cuff I’d taken from her when she’d arrived at the palace, the one that had helped her cross the River.
“Yes, and her crown. Gold mined near here is the only metal that can hold a thread of our magic. It makes its nearest town valuable indeed.”
“Why did they bury them? The relics? Why not keep them in the hands of the peris?”
“The Court of River is unique in its underground vaults. But you already know the answer to that—when you imbue the object with a thread of our life magic, it keeps the earth alive. Here, magic is in the land, and it’s in the peris—they are one and the same.
When the peris from River left the human lands, they left some of the relics behind, because to remove them would have been catastrophic for the land. ”
She rubbed the back of her neck, clearly uncomfortable after such a long ride, and I had the sudden urge to place my hands there and ease the ache. I looked away from her.
“Because of the history of the town, this is a popular place for peris to come from all over the seven Courts to get jewelry made,” I continued to explain. “I’ve been here once before. There’s a bazaar you might like.”
Her eyes lit up, making me wish I’d mentioned it sooner.
Watching her study everything that came across her path was fascinating, and I didn’t doubt why she’d become a scholar. She was filled with questions, her curiosity never satiated, and I wondered how it felt to have such a relentless zeal for discovery.
I had lost much of mine when I’d lost my family.
We arrived at the caravanserai just as the sun was sinking behind the low mountains and the tree line was casting a shadow over the road. I felt a prickle in the back of my neck and looked toward the mountains but saw nothing.
“Stable the horses, make sure they have a good ironsmith,” I said, nodding to a Salt soldier. Salt soldiers often didn’t know how to keep River horses, whose iron legs would seize up with too much riding.
I lifted Yaseema from her horse, ensuring that I was brisk and efficient and didn’t linger on her waist, though I had thought about the night before at the river entirely too much.
Then I went to arrange the rooms.
“Three rooms, please.” The Salt soldiers would sleep in the stables, or the great hall, but I wasn’t about to expose Yaseema to that, and to the potential threat of rebels.
I could feel the town’s hatred toward us as we rode in, and hatred and anger often overpowered fear—that was what made me wary.
“We only have two, sir.” The innkeeper said the words softly and looked as though he were about to throw up. “I’d give you mine, sir, only my wife and I have already given ours up for another patron.”
He lowered his voice. “The Viceroy and his human consort could share a room perhaps, sir.”
I raised my eyebrows at that, and I must have glowered at him, as he began sputtering other options.
I glanced behind me, seeing Reza and Yaseema enter the caravanserai. I didn’t want Reza to have a reason to curse this peri into oblivion, so I made a decision. “The human and the Viceroy will have their own rooms. I will sleep in the main hall.”
“Oh, but sir, the hall is not for great visitors such as yourself, you don’t understand—”
I raised a hand again, as the peri had nearly turned white in his panic.
“Please show us to our rooms.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hurried up the stairs, a dark tail swishing behind him. Reza entered his room and immediately shut the door, and I left Yaseema to her room. She shot me a questioning glance.
Did I think she was safe in a room beside Reza?
As long as she was useful to him, as long as he saw her as having worth according to him, she would be fine.
I, on the other hand, prepared myself for a very long night in the main hall with all manner of unsavory people who wanted my death.