Chapter 47
Dear Amma,
The other side of the River isn’t how I thought it’d be, not from the songs you sang, the warnings you gave. There is savagery here, yes, but also beauty and loyalty and kindness so heartbreaking it sometimes takes my breath.
—Letter from Yaseema Nazir to Mahira Nazir, written in Mahira Nazir’s journal
Yaseema
We set off for the pass, saddling up horses and traveling in groups under Kiyan’s camouflage.
He drew on his magic so that the leaves and trees and even the earth hid us.
After seeing bits and pieces of what he could do with even limited magic, I wondered what it would look like at full capacity, how much of the living he could command.
As if he knew I was thinking of him, he turned to look at me, his stare so intense I gripped my reins tighter, my heart hammering in my chest.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking of the creature you created, the one that swallowed me whole. That was you, wasn’t it?”
He winced at the reminder. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I wasn’t looking for an apology. How did you craft such a beast, made of the dead halmasti?”
He leaned back in his saddle, an amused smile on his face.
“Compared to what I used to be able to conjure, using life magic, it doesn’t even come close.
But I’d never harnessed the power of death before.
It was a way I could tap into more of my power, without the limits placed on us by Reza.
I think because Reza channels his magic through Rusul’s crown, he only limited our powers over life, not thinking of the other side of the cycle. ”
“How could you conjure death?”
“Because rot and decomposition is part of the life cycle, I discovered that it obeys me when I coax it to. If it has turned to rot, then it can be conjured—it has inherent magic.”
“Can you not create something like the beast with the vines you call?”
He shook his head. “Not more than a curling tendril. The living I can summon, but they are tiny and fragile. And because of Rusul’s crown, I can never attack Reza with true life magic.
The dead and the energy in decomposition can get around Reza’s limits on our life magic.
Therefore, I can use it to create something much larger, but it takes a bigger toll on me. ”
“And the dead halmasti creature in the palace? How much of a toll did that take?”
“After you burnt it to cinders and I dove into the inferno, I managed to carry you to your room, but not much else. I would have slept for days had that not aroused suspicion.”
My face heated at the memory of him carrying me naked from the great hall, in front of everyone.
As if he could read my thoughts he said, “Don’t worry, I put my cloak over you as soon as I found you in the ash.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I admitted, honestly. “I was mostly curious because I’d only ever seen you summon the death creature once. Can you do it again?”
He frowned. “Yes. But right now I don’t want to risk the energy it would take, especially when we are about to enter into a battle.”
We rode to the edge of the pass, the rebels fanning out along the ridge, working to camouflage each other in the hills.
A scout rode up to Kiyan on a metal-legged horse, shouting his name.
“They are heading this way—another two hours or so through the mountains.”
“Reza’s moving faster than we thought.”
“He wasted no time once he had Queen Azari’s crown. He’s been gathering his forces in preparation.”
“He has to find the gate first. And he doesn’t have Yaseema at his disposal anymore.”
Zaye rode alongside us, her face grave. “He’s going to try and drain you of your power. Don’t get close enough to him to have access.”
“He’ll know the taste of my blade soon enough,” muttered Kiyan.
“But perhaps not on this battlefield,” she said. “We still haven’t found a way to take King Rusul’s power from him. So right now, you can’t touch him.”
“If all we do is steal the Queen’s crown, it will be worth it.”
We waited, fanning out, the ambush set.
Soon, the Viceroy rode toward the pass with his soldiers.
I was hidden, but I still flinched upon seeing him, the memory of his magic snapping my bones still fresh. Something dark and heavy sat in my stomach, but I didn’t want to allow my mind to go back to that place.
Kiyan followed my gaze, his mouth going white. “He won’t have the chance to get to you. Not again.”
I smiled at Kiyan, but wasn’t so sure he could keep that promise. If I was going to take back the crown, and find the gate to enter the Mountain, I needed to get relatively close to Reza.
As long as he couldn’t touch me and drain my magic, I was safe. I watched him approaching the pass, my stomach churning with dread, like watching an axe slowly inch nearer to your neck.
He was close enough that I could see the small brown pouch containing my bangles. It was strapped to his iron-legged horse, hanging beside the saddlebag.
Rage then replaced my dread, and suddenly I wanted to run at him screaming, ripping my bag from his horse.
Those don’t belong to you, I wanted to scream at him. They are mine.
But the same could be said for everything the Viceroy had—his outfit, his magic, his crown—everything was stolen from this Court. He had claimed ownership in land, language, property, books, a palace—the very lives of the fae that lived here, as if they were able to be taken.
But today, they were going to get it back.
The rebels waited for Kiyan to give the signal. Down below, I saw Mishah readying the fighters.
The tension was like a loaded rifle, waiting to be discharged. It reminded me of Safiyya, learning to shoot with my father, while I studied beside them, waiting for the exact moment to kill the unsuspecting sandgrouse, my father counting down with her in her ear.
One.
The slightest movement and it will know.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the bag containing my mother’s bangles.
Two.
Breathe slow.
Never forget to breathe, it helps calm the heart.
I knew my focus needed to be on finding the gate while Kiyan stole Queen Azari’s crown, but the bangles still called to me, like they were part of who I was.
Three.
Pull the trigger, niece.
Enjoy your kill.
At once a scream sounded behind us. Kiyan whirled, but my eyes were trained on Reza, who looked up in our direction and smiled.
No.
“It’s a trap!” shouted Mishah, and silver soldiers from the Court of Salt seemed to appear from everywhere. It was as if they grew from the ground underneath us, like they’d been planted in the earth.
“The magic Reza must have drained for this,” Zaye whispered, her face horrified. “He must have taken power from half the Court of Salt.”
The soldiers erupted into battle with the rebels. As much magic as they could muster poured from the hands of the rebels, with vines and birds and trees coming from all directions, wrapping themselves around the soldiers.
Halmasti wolves as big as their iron-legged horses ran between the bodies, snapping up rebels in their jaws and tearing their bodies in half.
Birds called by the resistance dipped from the sky, falcons gouging out eyes and hawks working in tandem with them to attack the Salt soldiers.
But we’d lost our advantage; we hadn’t surprised them at all.
The Viceroy had the numbers, had the power. At most, we would manage a small dent in his forces.
The Viceroy rode faster through the pass, a tight group of Salt Guards surrounding him.
“Not today,” I said to myself, then I took off running, through the trees toward the valley below.
I heard Kiyan shout my name, but I didn’t care. The rage of what the Viceroy had done burned in my bones, the smugness of his smile as he rode with my mother’s jewelry tied to his horse.
I was going to make him regret ever coming here.