Chapter Sixty-One Amunet
SIXTY-ONE AMUNET
My maid disappeared behind the waterfall, moving so fast she almost looked as if she’d been dragged. The moment she was gone, my power threw itself against its confines. Less like a horse champing at the bit and more like a raging bull. Stronger.
Because of her. But why?
The Kald roared as his qareen slashed at him, but I barely heard it over the static buzzing in my ears. Without stopping to think, I dove into the pool after her.
A small, cavernous room met me on the other side of the waterfall. No sounds filtered past the curtain of water. It was a sacred sort of quiet. Like when I’d stepped through Shaya’s doorway made of glittering sand.
I stepped out of the pool gingerly onto the smooth stone floor. Water trickled softly down my body, like it, too, knew to control its volume.
Stone walls rose up around me—so at odds with the solid gold of the palace. A large golden table stretched across the opposite wall, covered in a bright emerald cloth that billowed lightly in an invisible wind.
My maid stood over it, her back to me, staring down at the altar.
My power went wild. With each step closer, its flailing became mightier. Sweat gathered on my brow as I fought to keep myself in check.
Whatever was beneath the green cloth moved, rhythmically, up and down. Breathing. A body. Bound hands poked out from underneath the cloth.
“What is this?” I asked.
My maid didn’t respond. Her brown eyes were focused so resolutely on the altar, she almost looked as if she were in a trance. Then she reached out and pulled the cloth off.
It was a girl. The same girl as the one beside me.
Her qareen.
Her wrists were bound tightly behind her with a thick golden rope.
Her ankles were tied, too, and her nudity was covered by faintly glowing green tattoos that curved around every inch of her body, just like the ones currently adorning my maid’s forehead.
They were scrawled from her toes all the way up, finally disappearing into her long, dark hair.
The qareen struggled against her restraints, bucking wildly the moment the sheet was pulled away. She tried to scream, but it was muffled against the gag in her mouth.
My power burned its brightest yet. An intangible flare, yet somehow blinding. Hesitantly, I rested my hand on the qareen’s arm.
A gust of power surged toward me so fast, I startled and yanked my hand away.
Then I laughed.
My power. Somehow inside this random maid’s qareen. Bound there, if the ropes and gag were any indication. How or why, I couldn’t know, but this must have been the other reason Shaya had sent me here. To claim it.
If my power was bound inside her, I could only think of one way to get it out. The same way the Cirra Tribe had planned to take my wish back—I’d have to bleed it out.
Something glinted, catching my eye. I turned to find my maid holding a dagger, the one that Kald had thrown, her eyes still trained on her qareen.
She had anticipated my need and acted accordingly. She was well trained indeed.
I held out my hand expectantly. “Give me the knife.”
She blinked. Once. Twice. Staring at my outstretched palm.
My smile was indulgent. “You have served the Gods-Chosen valiantly. Beyond all expectations. For which you will be greatly rewarded. But I can take it from here.” I wiggled my fingers insistently.
It was just the same as it had been that fateful night, when the Kaldfolk ravaged my palace. Her, gazing at me with those large frightened eyes. And me, impatient to get on with my father’s plans. I really should have recognized her the moment I’d seen her.
I reached for the knife.
The girl stepped back. “No.”