Forty-five

Before

I blinked, trying to reconcile the mangled body lying at my feet with the robust warlord who had been very much alive this morning. Alive and angry, when I had threatened him. His hands were curled and black, the same ones that had drawn his sword and pointed it at me just earlier. His mouth was wide and frozen, a silent, agonizing scream passing his lips stained black with djinn poison.

Djinn poison.

But who would have poisoned him?

A broken vial lay beside his body, but it held no clues as to who had done this.

I had wanted to kill the warlord this morning, it was true. He was rumored to have been the man responsible for my mother's death in the uprising, and my hot temper had gotten the better of me when I had threatened him. But the death I had wanted for him came at the tip of my blade, not from poison.

A noise from outside the doors echoed through the palace.

I cast my eyes around, but it was just me and the dead warlord. Maz had asked to meet me here, but he was nowhere to be found.

Another sound like thunder rumbled in the distance.

I needed to tell someone the dead warlord was here. I needed to find Maz.

As if I had summoned him, the door burst open and Maz strode through it, his face as somber as his midnight sherwani. I exhaled, something releasing in my chest. Maz would know what to do.

But he was followed by about twenty guards.

"Maz," I breathed, the relief coursing through me.

The emperor would be furious about this. A warlord killed in his palace? He was already having problems quelling the rebellions in the north, he'd have another if they suspected he'd just murdered one of his greatest opponents under the guise of hospitality.

"I was just about to come find you," I said, gesturing to the body at my feet.

There was certainly no love lost between me and the warlord. "I found him here. He's dead."

"Dani." Maz's face was a cool mask. "What are you doing here?"

"She's at the scene of the crime!" Darbaran leapt forward, his scimitar drawn.

Out of reflex I grabbed the hilt of my sword and stepped back.

"See? She moves to attack me! The captain of the palace guards!" His little mongoose face was pinched in fury and I wanted to kick him in it.

"Oh, shut up," I said as I rolled my eyes. "It's painfully obvious I had nothing to do with this."

I turned to Maz with faint amusement, but stopped short when he didn't return the look. Instead, on his face was the same impassive expression.

Something tugged at the back of my mind, and I felt drawn out of myself, as if I were watching what was happening from far away.

"Maz?" I winced at the sound of my voice—almost pleading.

"You cannot be serious," sneered Darbaran. "She's standing over his dead body. The emperor must be told. She's murdered a warlord under his own roof!"

"Oh, and that's very convenient for him, considering this warlord leads one of the biggest factions against him," I snapped.

But the moment I said it, I knew it was wrong.

I'd never had a problem with saying the exact thing that was on my mind and not caring about the results. But now, I recognized that I should have bitten my tongue.

All twenty guards unsheathed their swords and pointed them at me.

Sweat beaded at my forehead. My hands grew damp. I tightened them around the hilt of my sword, because if I didn't, my entire body might be shaking. But I wasn't about to let them skewer me without putting up a fight.

I slowly sank into a fighting stance and lifted my own blade.

Mazin was still standing there, frozen.

"Maz," I forced myself to say calmly, without screaming, even though every fiber of my being was ready to scream this whole palace down. " Do something."

He could command these soldiers. He could stop them from advancing on me.

That seemed to shake him out of whatever trance he was in, and he too reached for his blade.

I shook my head in confusion; why was he arming himself?

Why didn't he just tell them to stand down?

His face was stone; the only proof I had that he was still listening to me was the slight tick in his jaw.

Rising horror washed over me.

He couldn't.

Maz couldn't tell them to let me go. Not with a key warlord from the northern tribes dead at my feet.

He walked toward me with his sword drawn and I realized what he was doing.

He'd have to fight his way out with me.

We'd have to make a run for it, then figure out who killed the warlord. I couldn't take on all these soldiers. But with Maz by my side, we could give ourselves a fighting chance. The benefit of this warlord's death to the emperor wasn't lost on me. But I wasn't about to go down as his scapegoat.

And at least I would have Maz with me.

I cast him a grateful smile, but he didn't return it. Instead, he stared at me with inscrutable eyes and remained standing alongside the guards.

"Dani…" His voice was soft and low.

"What are you waiting for?" snarled Darbaran, leaping forward. "If you don't arrest her, I will." He looked me up and down, eyes narrowing. "And if she resists, I'll use force."

"Touch me and I will cut your disgusting hands off."

"You won't have hands yourself after this, girl!" he shouted back.

"Mazin!" I screamed at him, trying to get a reaction out of his stone face.

I wanted him to snap out of it, to leap forward and take me by the hand so we could both escape together.

We'd get his sister, then go back to my village and tell my father and Nanu to pack our things.

Then we'd run.

I met Mazin's intense gaze. That wild, dark look had entered them, the same one from the night he'd come to my room and told me Vahid had killed his mother.

But if we run, we'll be on the run for the rest of our lives.

And suddenly I understood.

He was never coming with me.

He wasn't going to fight this together.

I was on my own.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. My mouth turned dry. I moved it, but no sound came out. I lifted a hand to my lips as if by touching them I'd remember to speak. But the only thing I remem bered was Mazin kissing me just that morning. The warm press of his mouth as he had smiled against my skin.

But now, his eyes were cold, oddly vacant, taking on some sort of dark determination I'd never seen from him. I clutched my talwar like a novice, desperately looking around the room. The windows were too far to jump from, and the guards were blocking the only other exit.

I couldn't make it. Not against twenty guards and Mazin. Not without him.

"Dani." His voice was soft, as if he were coaxing a wild desert stallion, calming it right before he slung the rope around its neck.

That wasn't going to be me.

"How dare you?" I growled at him, pointing my sword in his direction. If he wasn't going to join me, then I would do this myself.

Mazin's face grew shuttered, his eyes narrowing on my blade. Then he turned to the guards at his side.

"Arrest her."

My lungs collapsed, my heart freezing in my chest.

He'd finally chosen, and he had chosen Vahid.

He'd chosen the man who had raised him, who had killed his mother. And suddenly, the dead warlord at my feet made much more sense. It wasn't an accident, them finding me here. It was all part of a plan.

"You did this," I hissed at Mazin. If I didn't know him so well, I wouldn't have noticed the flinch that crossed his features almost imperceptibly. Dark shock shot through me at that flinch, at those confirmed suspicions. But his face gave nothing more away.

"Dani, don't make this difficult. Don't fight and you won't get hurt."

"Don't fight?" I laughed, the sound manic, panic spilling from my mouth.

My laugh echoed off the palace ceilings like the sickening crack of bones. "You don't know me at all if you can say that." I turned to the guards. "Go ahead, try to arrest me. See what happens."

"Dani." Mazin's voice was sharper now, urgent and low. "Don't do this."

"Don't tell me what to do ever again." I lifted my sword over my head, preparing myself. "You mean nothing to me now. And it will be a pleasure to cut you down."

"Dani, stop. You'll die." His voice was low, but I knew his game now.

"I'll die anyway once the emperor gets a hold of me." I took a step forward. "I might as well go out fighting."

I moved forward at the guards flanking me, hoping to cut through them first and carve a path for myself. But Mazin's inaction ended as soon as I moved. He spun around me, unsheathing his own blade.

My breath caught in my chest, and I narrowed my eyes. "Are you actually going to go up against me, Maz? You'll lose."

But before he could respond, Darbaran rushed at me and I whirled to face him. Out of the corner of my eye Mazin stepped behind me.

I couldn't fight them both.

I inhaled, centering myself before battle. Is this how I would die? Being stabbed in the back by my ex-lover?

The glint of Mazin's sword reflected off the window behind me and I turned.

I would be damned if he didn't look me in the eye when he cut me down.

But he was holding his sword backward, the hilt facing me. I frowned, taking a step back, confusion warring with the rage of his betrayal. Until I realized what he was about to do.

No.

I opened my mouth to scream, the sound catching in my throat. I raised my own sword up, but it was too late.

He brought the hilt down against the back of my head.

I plunged into darkness, my legs giving way as I dropped like a stone to the floor.