Chapter 9 #7
I had what I wanted before I even set eyes on your face. The sheikh’s ominous farewell returned to my mind, but this was scarcely the time to puzzle out the poison master’s intentions.
Instead I nodded and we slipped back into the water.
A bit of strength might have returned to my companion, but it was an arduous flight and before long she was breathless again, clinging to my shoulders as we swam through filthy water choked with debris, dodging fleeing skiffs and narrowly avoiding being crushed by a houseboat.
The air was thick with smoke and desperation as bandits hurried to escape.
Darting past the whirling oars of another vessel, we finally made it to the mangroves.
But it was both shelter and trap. The mangrove forest was thick as a jungle and dark as night, clusters of spiky leaves obscuring my vision.
I couldn’t carry Dalila and hack my way through the vines with any sort of speed, and my friend was barely capable of standing.
The roots and dense brush ripped at our arms, the maze of tiny creeks dizzying.
The thick mud yanked away my sandals, leaving me barefoot.
Here and there, other bandits ran; sooner or later I feared we would come across one of the many that hunted us.
But just when I was starting to feel hopelessly lost, suddenly as a spot upon the eye, there was my canoe less than ten paces away. The creek that had been unpassable cleared and shallowed, giving way to a gentle tide pool beneath an airy canopy of trees.
It had not looked like that before; I’d taken care to hide the canoe far better. But then, as prickles crawled over the back of my neck, I heard him.
“Amina.” Raksh all but sang my name, sounding tipsy, merry and drunk on the ambition and chaos he’d sown. “Where, oh, where are you, my cunning wife?”
I stilled, praying that the thickets of scrub and trees that had stymied my progress would hide us. Raksh sounded closer than I would like—granted, an ideal location would be on the other side of the world—and his senses were sharper than mine.
“Did you see what we did together? I . . . I don’t believe I’ve ever done magic like that.” Raksh was inebriated, awed and rambling to himself. “No. No, I would remember it.” He giggled, sounding horribly closer. “Maybe we’re fated.”
Dread curdled in my belly, but I dared not even breathe, hoping he would pass.
Whose luck was stronger: the master of fortunes or the mortal he acted through?
The forest seemed to grow darker, every other noise—from the singing birds to the crashes of other distant fleeing bandits—muted and strangled.
“AMINA!”
But mercifully Raksh sounded a bit farther now, the unnatural stillness relenting. I waited another moment and then as quietly and hastily as possible, raced for the canoe. I all but tossed Dalila inside, shoving off through the marshes and rowing with all my might.
Between the smoke and fleeing ships, it was not easy to navigate back to the Marawati.
As we approached, I spotted a pair of my men loosing arrows in the direction of more than one vessel that had gotten too close.
But then we were there, my crew throwing down ropes.
Dalila had passed out while I rowed, but they hauled her up as I climbed and helped drag in the canoe.
By the time I joined her, Dalila was laid out upon the deck and had a dozen worried crewmen fretting over her.
The cook was waiting with a waterskin, Majed had prepped a pillow for her head, and Jabril—an apprentice bonesetter on the run from his debts who’d joined me in Basrah—was trying to push his way through, carrying a tonic.
Dalila was pale as death and violently shivering, muttering incomprehensible whispers.
“What’s wrong with her?” Tinbu asked, sounding alarmed.
“She’s been in the company of the Banu Sasan for weeks. Raksh swears they didn’t harm her, but she was in a terrible state and our escape was arduous.” I glanced at Jabril as he joined us. “Can you help her?”
He looked grimly determined. “Poisoning is far outside my experience, but rest and a light broth seem a good place to start. Perhaps we can settle her in your galley?”
“Go ahead. And please keep me informed.” I watched the men gently pick up Dalila’s petite frame and carry her off.
There was no chance of accompanying her—not while Sarilaglag burned far too close behind us.
Dozens of vessels of varying levels of seaworthiness were fleeing in the smoky dark, and I’d already spotted more than one collision; it was best I personally oversee our flight.
“Tinbu, I want us out of here, as swiftly and safely as possible.”
“The wind is terrible. Let me get the men to the oars.” Tinbu lowered his voice. “Do you anticipate being pursued?”
My last glimpse of the tavern played through my mind; I’d set a trap for my enemies and it had sprung more effectively than I could have imagined.
Too effectively. No one who knew the way to Sarilaglag was an innocent, but I feared that whatever magic Raksh had spurred to life—inspired by me, apparently—had left far more bodies burning in that infamous building than I wanted to know.
But you will know. And so will others. Because you have a chaos spirit now even more intent on hunting you down and spreading tales of your legend.
I swallowed, finding my mouth dry as I answered, “For the rest of my life.”