Chapter 18

18

Sirsha

The Jaduna had ambushed her. Of course they had—they weren't stupid and they knew Sirsha wasn't either. But if they were here in Jibaut in force, they could have killed her already. Which meant that her sister either wished to make a spectacle of her death, or she wanted something.

Sirsha hoped it was the latter. But with R'zwana, you never could tell.

"Bind her up," R'zwana ordered whoever was behind Sirsha. "Quickly."

Sirsha groaned. "R'z—"

"Do not speak to me, traitor," R'zwana said, voice flat. "Everything out of your bitch mouth is poison."

Sirsha took a step back, face hot, as if R'zwana had slapped her. She'd almost forgotten the unpleasantly specific sting of an insult from an older sibling. Particularly one you used to worship.

With dawning horror, Sirsha felt tears welling as the Jaduna surrounded her. After the ignominy of first getting caught unawares, crying would be too humiliating. Sirsha forced herself to grin and offer her hands up mockingly to D'rudo, her old teacher and cousin, who refused to meet Sirsha's eyes.

"Didn't realize you missed me so badly, R'z," Sirsha said. "You could have just written."

"Gag her too," R'zwana said. "I don't want to listen to her drivel."

Before Sirsha could respond, the gag came around from behind her. Then the hood.

She tested the stretch of her bonds—barely any room to twitch her hands. Her gag was so tight it might as well have been shoved down her throat. Bleeding D'rudo. He always was excellent at following orders. She listened carefully. There were at least three Jaduna here. Possibly four.

If Sirsha wanted to escape, her best chance was now, before they marched her into their compound on the other end of the city. Not for the first time, Sirsha wished she'd been born with one of the other Jaduna leanings. A Deshma with battle magic. A Khind who could slow the blood. A Bij who could call fire or lightning to her aid. A combination would be ideal.

But she was Inashi, a tracker, and could only read the earth, wind, and water. Bleeding useless. Especially since she was so accustomed to Jibaut's Jaduna compound being empty that she hadn't checked for her people, thinking herself safe.

Sirsha called to the earth, the most helpful of the elements. A little quake, please. The tiniest rumble? The earth didn't answer. Almost as soon as Sirsha asked, the Jaduna closed ranks around her, and her magic was choked off. She couldn't feel a single element. The trail she'd sensed, the one that had left her dizzy hours earlier—it disappeared too.

So, there was a Deshma with them. One strong enough to smother Sirsha's power.

"Please come along quietly, Sirsh."

At first, she didn't recognize the young male voice. But then a cool hand wrapped around her arm, kinder than R'zwana would ever be.

"J'yan?" she mumbled, though through the gag, it sounded more like Jrrggh?

"Quiet now," he said, softly enough that R'zwana wouldn't hear. He loosened the gag so Sirsha could talk. "Or R'zwana will hear."

A welter of confusion and joy and anger churned inside her. J'yan was a year older than her and trained in battle magic. When he was born, a Jaduna soul-seer, a Songma, predicted he would be the strongest battle Jaduna in eight generations.

That same soul-seer had attended R'zwana's birth, two years before, and said nothing of note. But when Sirsha was born, the soul-seer had a different message.

Rejoice, Raani , the woman told Sirsha's mother, for your second daughter will shake the world.

Within hours of Sirsha's birth, she was promised to the heir of the Deshma: J'yan.

It wasn't an oath to be taken lightly. A marriage in most places was an exchange of vows. But the Jaduna joined couples with magic, not as spouses but as Adah— soul halves .

Sirsha and J'yan played together, trained together, hunted together. He'd been sweet and kind and laughed when Sirsha wound him up. Neither understood they were sworn to each other, not until they were older and overheard their mothers speaking of it. They'd stifled their laughter by stuffing scarves into their mouths until they'd run far enough away from their village that they could howl without anyone hearing.

And then when she was twelve, Sirsha was banished. Her mother had nearly been unseated as Raani, and the Deshma Raani had threatened to pledge her Kin's loyalty to one of the other four Jaduna Raanis—preferably one who could keep her children under control.

Sirsha had last seen J'yan at the borders of Jaduna lands, standing behind a jubilant R'zwana, face wet with tears.

She'd thought about him a great deal in the months after she'd left. He'd been her friend—her only friend, it sometimes felt like.

"You were a fool to come here," he whispered to her now. "And trusting a Devanese pirate? It's a miracle you've survived this long."

"How was I supposed to know you lot would turn Kade?" Sirsha muttered, lest her bloodthirsty sister overhear. "He's been trustworthy until now."

Though upon consideration, that wasn't exactly true. Sirsha and Kade had been friends—sometimes more. But Kade's obsession with obscure languages and more obscure lore meant he trafficked in stolen things. The Jaduna could have bought him off with a few rare scrolls. Hells, Sirsha had done so herself a time or two.

"R'zwana's changed," J'yan said. "She'll show no mercy, S'rsh—Sirsha."

She winced at the sound of the old honorific that had marked her as Jaduna, a glottal stop that came from deep in the throat. S'rsha was the name that fit her. Sirsha was what had been foisted upon her. The reminder hurt.

J'yan quickened his gait, and Sirsha nearly tripped trying to keep up. She heard voices nearby but didn't bother calling for help. No one in Jibaut was brave enough to cross a group of fully coined Jaduna, two of whom were Raan-Ruku.

She snorted at that. When she was a child, a Wolf's magic oozed out of them. J'yan was strong in battle magic and deserved the title.

R'zwana did not.

They arrived at the Jaduna compound after a half-hour march. The air shifted, growing quiet and smelling of sap. Sirsha had seen the compound before and could imagine it now, the moss-covered boards blending seamlessly with the thick green forest of the mountains.

"Stairs," J'yan muttered. The Jaduna moved silently, but Sirsha's boots clanked loudly against the wide wooden planks. She smirked, knowing the racket would grate at R'zwana's nerves.

Once inside, J'yan nudged her into a wooden seat. Her hood and gag were finally removed, and she squinted despite the dim light. No windows. One door. A suspicious-looking stain on the oak floor. Sirsha's back was to the wall with three kohl-eyed Jaduna arrayed in a half circle in front of her.

D'rudo had the same thick black hair and barrel chest as when he was a younger man. He had more scars on his forearms and his hairline was higher, but his exasperation was familiar.

J'yan, with his curly hair and lean build, was still beautiful as a jinn, but with the stern mien of a Raan-Ruku. His rank was a testament to his power. The Wolves were nearly always women.

What did J'yan see as his dark eyes roved over her face? He gave nothing away—that had changed. The J'yan she remembered was an open book.

And then there was R'zwana. Cold, superior, dangerous R'zwana.

"Watch the hall, D'rudo," R'zwana ordered.

D'rudo gave Sirsha a warning glance before parting. Don't cross her , it seemed to say. R'zwana paced in front of her, headdress jangling softly.

"What are you doing in Jibaut?" she asked.

"Got sick of candle-making in the Empire." Sirsha smiled. "Thought I'd try my luck here. Better wax. Longer—"

Sirsha expected a blow. R'zwana always had a rubbish sense of humor. She didn't expect for it to smart quite so badly.

She spat on the floor. No blood. "Longer wicks," she finished.

"The conditions of your banishment were that you never return to Jaduna lands," her sister ground out. "That you never use your Inashi magic again. The punishment for breaking the banishment is—"

"Death by drowning, my body left as carrion that I might never return to the earth that nourished me, yes, I know." Sirsha yawned expansively, though even thinking those words made her stomach clench. "I think you'll find that our darling mother's exact words were: You will never again use Inashi magic to hunt as your Kin had hunted. You lot hunt human magic-users who are a threat to society, yes? Karjad? I hunt other quarry."

Another slap. Harder this time.

"Address her as Raani, cur. She is our sovereign and a thousand times the Inashi you are—"

Sirsha felt a heedlessness come over her, born of a sorrow she'd buried deep—the knowledge that her only sibling would never respect or love her. And there was nothing she could do to change it.

"Actually"—Sirsha spat again, and a red-tinged blob splattered wide against the floor—"she's one of six sovereigns and a thousand times the Inashi you are. She and I—we're equal, at least. That's where the problem started. Or don't you remember?"

The next blow was less a slap and more of a punch—straight at Sirsha's eye. Her head snapped back and stars burst in her vision. For a moment, everything went white.

Outside, the wind howled. The walls of the Jaduna compound rattled.

"Does our mother even know you're here, wasting your time with me?" Sirsha said. "Don't you think she'd disapprove of you hunting her favorite chi—"

"Enough!" J'yan stepped between Sirsha and R'zwana, something he'd had much practice with. "Sirsha," he said, "you hunt a killer who uses magic. We know this because we hunt him too. We've been scenting the Karjad for six months, and the trail led us here."

"Bleeding hells," Sirsha couldn't help saying. "It took you six months to track a mark so far?" It only took me three weeks. She quashed the retort when J'yan frowned at her—he'd clearly picked up on the direction of her thoughts.

"He's killed many, Sirsha," J'yan said. "He'll kill more if we don't destroy him."

She! Sirsha bit back the reply. "Destroy away," she said. "Just leave me be."

"Perhaps you could aid us," J'yan said, and Sirsha tried to hide a smile. So that's why they hadn't killed her. They needed her. "This murderer—we don't understand his magic."

R'zwana shoved J'yan away from Sirsha.

"She is a traitor and an outcast," she hissed. "I'll be reporting this defiance to the Raani. And you—" R'zwana turned on Sirsha, who cringed, hating herself for it.

Wrath between blood runs deep , D'rudo said when, as a child, Sirsha confessed R'zwana's cruelty. When she looks at you, she looks in a mirror, and sees everything she was meant to be.

"R'zwana," J'yan said. "Don't. Please."

Sirsha's skin prickled with familiar fear as R'zwana stalked toward her.

She had been vicious when they were children, a bizarre, one-sided rivalry that left cuts on Sirsha's skin, bruises in her mind. I'll kill you , her sister had said to her a hundred times for the pettiest of reasons: when Sirsha looked at her wrong or ate more than her share. I swear one day, I'll kill you.

The Raani had rolled her eyes at the threats. Sisters! she'd said. But Sirsha had seen other sisters. They didn't fear their older siblings the way she did. The best night of sleep Sirsha had in years was after she was banished, and she'd put an ocean between herself and R'z.

"You were told that if you used your Inashi magic to hunt as we hunt, you would die," R'zwana said. "We hunt a Karjad. So do you. Thus, you have flouted that law. As a Raan-Ruku, I have the right to mete out punishment in the name of our Raanis. Your punishment is death."

"R'z." Sirsha laughed, because for all R'zwana's viciousness, her threats to murder Sirsha had only ever been threats. "If you were going to do it, you would have already. What do you want? Help? Fine, I'll help." If the Jaduna aided her in rounding up the killer faster, all the better. They didn't need to know how well Sirsha was being paid, and Elias didn't need to know Sirsha had help.

"I don't want your aid," R'zwana said softly. "I want your death."

Sirsha opened her mouth to respond, but when she looked into the jagged glass of R'zwana's eyes, every retort she'd had fled her mind. Her sister was serious.

R'zwana had gotten worse.

"I would have killed you earlier," R'zwana said. "If I'd had my way, the gulls of Jibaut harbor would be feasting on your liver right now. But J'yan insisted I give you a chance to explain yourself."

"Wait a moment." Sirsha tried to leash her rising panic. "I never said I was hunting a Karjad. I said other quarry . You can't prove—"

"Gag her," R'zwana ordered J'yan. "I want this done by dawn. We'll take her to the southern part of the harbor. Speak with the harbormaster so her body isn't moved. Not until she's nothing but bones."

"You can't prove anything!" Sirsha said again as R'zwana made for the door. She thrashed against J'yan, who, like a good little soldier, was trying to get the gag on again. Sirsha would be damned if she let him. "This is wrong, R'zwana! J'yan, tell her—"

J'yan looked nauseous as he pulled her to her feet. "I tried to warn you," he whispered. "She's so much worse than—"

Voices in the hallway beyond the room silenced J'yan. His body tensed, and Sirsha felt him draw his magic as the door burst open.

"Forgive me, Raan-Ruku." D'rudo appeared out of breath. "I tried to stop them," he said, "but this boy—he says—"

A lean figure eased past R'zwana and into the room, and Sirsha had no idea why he wasn't yet dead, other than that he was Sufiyan Veturius, and rumor had it that death rolled off the members of the Veturius family like salt water off a seal.

"You have no business in the Jaduna compound." R'zwana tried to menace Sufiyan by shoving in front of him, but he sidestepped her so elegantly that she blinked in confusion.

"You're holding a citizen of the Martial Empire and we require her release." Sufiyan spoke in accented Ankanese, his handsome face reflecting a genial sort of boredom. He spotted Sirsha and winked. "Ah. Excellent." He called back over his shoulder, "She's here!"

Sirsha stared in bafflement as someone tall stepped past D'rudo into the room. Quil. But not the same Quil from the shabka. Certainly, he looked identical. His armor was a touch tight across the arms and chest—not that Sirsha minded—and he had the same silken, loose waves and light brown skin, the same hazel eyes and aquiline nose and broad shoulders. But something about the way he held himself was entirely different.

As if he owned the room, and everyone in it.

Quil's gaze raked over her, snagging briefly on her cheek where she was no doubt developing a nasty bruise. For a moment, his pale eyes flashed with fury—and Sirsha felt a tingling warmth roll up her spine. He was angry not at her, but for her.

A moment later, his aloof expression returned, and he fixed his attention on Sirsha's sister.

"Raan-Ruku-Ja'ira." Honored Wolf of the Mother. Quil addressed R'zwana in a tone that danced on the edge of threatening. "I require the release of this woman. In accordance with the Treaty of Nur, signed by Empress Helene Aquilla and representatives of the Jaduna Raanis in the first year after the Battle of Sher Jinaat, any citizen of the Empire found to have broken the law of a participating nation will be extradited to the Empire to face judgment."

R'zwana had by now gathered her wits and drew herself up, a hand on the dagger at her belt. "She is not a citizen of the Martial Empire. She is a Jaduna and—"

"She was a Jaduna. She has, however, been made a Martial citizen."

"Lies," R'zwana said, and Sirsha groaned, because Quil had picked absolutely the wrong Jaduna to argue jurisprudence with. R'zwana loved Jaduna law. She'd probably memorized every treaty the Jaduna made, including those inscribed on rock walls thousands of years ago.

"No Jaduna may be made into the citizen of another nation unless by marriage and sovereign decree," R'zwana announced in ringing tones. "The process takes months, if not years, and do not tell me"—she marched over to Sirsha and grabbed the thin chain around her neck as Quil opened his mouth—"that she is married, because Jaduna take vows very seriously. We are not husbands or wives or partners. We are Adah— soul halves . If she had bound herself to another, she'd have a coin veined with diamonds."

Sirsha's chain had one measly coin on it—the one that materialized when she made her vow to Elias, skies curse him.

Quil crossed his arms. He looked around at the Jaduna assemblage with supreme arrogance.

"By marriage or engagement ," he said, and Sirsha realized that she was somehow being rescued by the one person on the entire Southern Continent who might know as much about the law as R'zwana. "No Jaduna may be made into the citizen of another nation unless by marriage or engagement and sovereign decree. And she is engaged. To me."

Sirsha tried very hard to keep her face…well, whatever it looks like when your so-called fiancé announces your fake engagement to the sister who wants to turn you into bird food.

Beside Sirsha, J'yan, who'd never released hold of his magic, went still and tried to catch Sirsha's eyes. She resolutely ignored him.

R'zwana laughed, a short bark, and held up Sirsha's chain again. "This is no engagement coin, Martial. And you don't have one. If you were engaged, you would."

"Martial traditions are different," Quil said. "She has a bracelet of mine. Black leather. Lapis stone with a gold sun. You have magic." He looked from D'rudo to J'yan, barely keeping the derision out of his voice. "One of you must be able to sense that it once belonged to me."

As Quil glanced at her, Sirsha felt her stomach twist in chagrin. She'd stolen the bracelet. And he knew.

She ignored her guilt and held up her still-bound wrists.

"It doesn't matter," R'zwana said. "I don't recall anything about engagement in the treaty. She's a traitor and you are a no-name soldier, certainly not sovereign enough to make any sort of decree—"

"Ah." Sufiyan cut R'zwana off, something that was so brave and foolhardy that Sirsha could only admire him for it while feeling a brief sorrow that he was probably about to die.

"Forgive me," he said. "I've been lax in my duties. He does, in fact, have a name. May I present Zacharias Marcus Livius Aquillus Farrar, future Imperator Invictus and Overlord of the Realm, current Lieutenant Commander of the Imperial Army and Sovereign Crown Prince of the Martial Empire."