26. Chapter 26

Chapter twenty-six

Kamir’s dragon roared. It took him a moment to work out it had actually been in his head and he hadn’t just roasted the entire throng, when a feeling of utter loss, closely followed by panic, swept through him. He knew it was Tsaria before any other thought came to mind. “Silence!” he shouted, and every single person stilled.

He glanced around. “Where is my bonded?” He couldn’t see him. He couldn’t feel him. “Sire?” Damatrious said in confusion. “I wasn’t aware—”

“The sand people,” Tomas shouted, struggling to get through the crowd that had pinned him in the corner. “They were surrounding him, but I couldn’t see properly.”

“My bonded is the man that accompanied this soldier into the chamber,” Kamir said, remembering they had stood together, his feet already moving to the entrance before a dozen guards stepped up to him.

“Search the palace,” Damatrious ordered and began giving specific instructions on which entrances should be blocked.

Kamir glanced around. “Where is my life sentinel?” Damatrious paled.

“I will have him brought.”

Which Kamir knew meant Mansala was in the dungeon, and much as Kamir wanted to rush after Tsaria, he knew he couldn’t help without having some idea of where they had taken him. Kamir wanted to flay them all alive, but Damatrious seemed to have command of the guards, and Kamir needed that. “From this moment, you are commander of my armies,” he decreed.

Damatrious looked stunned, but then bowed his head. “I will not let you down, Highness.”

“Seize him!”

Everyone turned at his uncle’s voice and Kamir almost found fleeting amusement. If Tsaria was here, when Tsaria was here, they would laugh together at the pathetic excuse for his uncle, even surrounded by the newly arrived imperial guard.

Damatrious stepped forward and inserted himself in between the guards and Kamir. Not that he needed it, but just at that moment a beaten and bloody Mansala arrived as well. The differences were stark between Mansala and Gabar. Despite what he had clearly endured in the dungeon, Mansala—as always—carried himself with dignity and purpose.

“My lord,” Damatrious said, addressing his father. “His highness has just proved his right to the crown of Rajpur by surviving the cleansing and shifting into his animal. I am a witness and have already withdrawn my claim.” He looked to the imperial guard. “Protect his highness, as is your sworn duty.”

Before Kamir had the chance to even take a breath, the guards surrounded him and Mansala like a protective cloak. But Kamir didn’t want that. He needed to find his bonded, or his soon to be bonded. He felt rather than heard an objection in his mind as clear as if someone had spoken, then the image of the two of them in flames. His dragon couldn’t have spoken more clearly if he had shouted. They were bonded, but he still couldn’t feel Tsaria. He turned to Mansala. “We think the sand people have Tsaria. Whatever else you do, please find him.”

He ignored his uncle’s pathetic protestations and then his attempt to insert himself between Kamir and Damatrious. Damatrious wasn’t having it, and neither was he, and successfully ignored, Gabar was pushed out. Kamir dismissed him.

Barely three bells later Kamir had to accept that neither Tsaria, Elainore, nor any of the sand people were in the palace or the immediate vicinity. Apart from one unit of the imperial guard who refused to leave Kamir’s side, every soldier Damatrious could get his hands on had searched all possible venues within a distance a group of twenty could travel quickly. Kamir had sensed Tsaria’s absence almost right away, and he didn’t understand how they could simply vanish, unless Elainore had managed to throw an illusion up for everyone, but then most of the witnesses had been drugged earlier. He knew she wasn’t as powerful as she was making people think. The soldiers were still knocking on doors and insisting on inspecting every building, but that took time.

Kamir paced.

Then paced some more.

“I want soldiers sent to the endless desert in case they’ve somehow slipped past us.”

“It’s been done, Highness.” Mansala frowned. “But I do not understand how even the swiftest horses could get away that quickly.”

Kamir whirled around. “You think they’re hiding? But isn’t every building being searched?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be looking in buildings.”

Kamir stared at Tam, who had just walked into the throne room. He caught on instantly. “The sewers?”

“They’ve just vanished,” Tam said.

“But didn’t you say she could create an illusion?” Mansala interrupted.

“But one large enough to hide them all?” Kamir questioned. He sat down on one of the daybeds, not certain how much longer his legs would hold him up. “This makes no sense. She said she was willing to create an illusion of my dragon, and she did so to cover the deaths, possibly including Iskar’s, but in return for land for her people. She must know I wouldn’t simply give her and her people a home here after taking Tsaria.”

“So she must have another motive,” Mansala said carefully.

“Do we have any experts on them?”

Mansala smiled. “Yes, Highness, you.”

Kamir drew in a breath, but his chest hurt. It was true he had included them in the research he had done, including the great sandstorm that was supposedly a punishment from the goddess that had buried what was once a thriving city. “I mean modern ones. Not someone that merely knows their history.” He blinked. “Water, food, trade. They must deal with someone for that. The desert is an inhospitable place.”

“They come to the trade district market, Highness, at the south of the city.”

“Not the Lost Souls?” Kamir asked bitterly.

Tam shook his head. “I’ve never seen them there. The trade district market is nearer the passes to the endless desert, and mostly deals in simple food stuffs and farm animals.”

Frustration at not having knowledge about the kingdom he was supposed to govern flooded Kamir. He should know these things. Why in seven hells had he always buried himself in the library?

Because you never expected to live to rule.

But it was a poor excuse and one Tsaria was suffering for.

“Sire,” the soldier who’d come with Tsaria spoke hesitantly, and Kamir turned to him, ashamed he had pretty much ignored him since Tsaria went missing. He realized he hadn’t even questioned the soldier’s presence or why he was with Tsaria. All he knew was that his dragon was at peace with the soldier, so Kamir had been as well. He was quickly learning to trust his dragon’s instincts.

“Speak freely,” Kamir ordered.

The soldier inclined his head. “My name is Tomas, and I have been working secretly with Draul Eryken and now Princess Veda for the last four summers. I was responsible for getting Tsaria in here, as I have a reputation as a large beast trainer.”

“And they thought you were here to control my dragon,” Kamir surmised, unsurprised Veda or Draul had a hand in this. “Where are they now?”

“Waiting to be summoned if needed, but I knew only I would be able to get Tsaria in here.”

Sudden anger flared in Kamir. This man had put his beloved in danger. “You will address him as his highness.”

“Sire, I understand your anger.”

Kamir scoffed. “I doubt it.”

“Tsaria is my little brother.”

Kamir gaped, and with the shock, shame replaced his anger. “I—I apologize,” Kamir said. “I had no right to speak to you thus when you are trying to help me and my people.”

“His highness told me—”

But Kamir stopped him with an impatient huff. “Again, my apologies. Of course, you have the right to call your brother by his given name.”

“He told me Alain had tricked him, your highness. There is no time to go into our family history, but I didn’t treat Tsaria well when I was younger, and when our father sold him, I decided I couldn’t stand by and live in a world where that could happen. I joined the army and eventually met Draul. But what is important is that I spent some time with the Rakar beast-masters last year.”

Kamir wasn’t sure how summoning them, if that was what Tomas wanted, could help.

“I spent three months with them perfecting my own skills, and they told me rumors of why the sand people had been banished in the first place, and that once they had a thriving city.”

“Supposedly they displeased the goddess, and she covered it in a single night with a tremendous sand storm,” Kamir finished, knowing the history.

“Some of them had talents. The main one that the Rakar beast-master had heard about was their ability to bring forth the beast inside a man.”

Kamir agreed. “She said that, but she also told me she couldn’t control my dragon. I think her illusions are a clever mesmerism, almost as if she causes mass hysteria, but she relies on drugs to help with that as well.” He glanced at Damatrious. “She was desperate to get you on your own, so without help she can’t control a room. We know that the first time my dragon was supposed to have killed, the burns were used to cover up sword injuries inflicted at my uncle’s command, and I imagine some similar deception was wrought this time.”

Damatrious sighed heavily and bowed his head.

“This is where the beast-masters’ account slightly differs from what you know,” Tomas said. “Yes, they had the ability to control a beast such as a wolf, but only if the human was full of evil intent and had slowly poisoned the animal he housed.” He stepped forward. “I doubt, for instance, she could affect Damatrious’s wolf and that was why she needed him alone for mesmerism to work.”

“Ibrahim,” Damatrious said suddenly. “My guards were summoned to dispose of his mutilated body. Father said he had caught him with a slave girl and punished him, but from what I’ve heard that would have been a first, as he had multiple sins he was never punished for before.” He glanced at Tomas. “You think Elainore was responsible?”

“How did he die?”

“According to my sources, his throat was slit so badly his head was nearly severed.”

“Which seems too personal a punishment when a sword or a guard holding a sword would suffice,” Kamir said, and felt a sense of satisfaction in his mind. So, his dragon agreed with him.

Kamir gazed at Tomas, who was staring back at him. “There’s something else.” He watched as Tomas’s eyes widened slightly and he huffed.

“It’s an old wives’ tale. Even the beast-masters didn’t believe it, but it’s supposedly the reason they can control the beasts whose minds have been poisoned. We know they were supposed to receive the retribution of the goddess, but not why. This was apparently the reason.”

“I understand, but even so please tell us,” Kamir encouraged.

“According to rumors the sand people aren’t born with animals, but over time some learned how to…” Tomas winced. “Create one inside them.”

“How so?” Mansala asked.

“Creating their own wolf sounds a little far-fetched,” Kamir said doubtfully.

Tomas shook his head. “No, sire. I’m talking creatures such as the yakish. Serpents and the like.” Tomas looked revolted. “Something to do with babies being given such an animal’s blood along with their mother’s milk.” He shuddered. “Sorry, I did say it was probably a tall tale.”

But then Kamir remembered something in one of the ancient scrolls he’d read. That the sand people were originally referred to as Serpents of the Sand. It had been shortened to just sand people for hundreds of summers, but he knew that sometimes truth hid in superstition. He looked at Mansala. “The sand people were once called the Serpents of the Sand. I assumed it was a slur, as they aren’t liked, but maybe there is some truth in it?”

No one answered Kamir, but then no one needed to.

Another two bells dragged on. “Highness.” One of Damatrious’s sergeants hurried into the throne room. “I have no news, but the men are expanding the search. They will send birds to notify us of each area cleared.”

Kamir focused on Damatrious. “Do you think it’s worth asking your father about Elainore?”

Damatrious ground his jaw. “I had the same thought before we even knew about this latest development. He’s not in his rooms. I have servants and palace guards searching.”

There was a commotion at the door and a youth accompanied by three guards scurried in. Head down, it was hard to tell his age, but by height alone Kamir guessed no more than seven or eight summers, so in some circles he would be considered a man. Something else Kamir hoped to change if he got the chance.

The guards bowed but addressed Damatrious as their commander. “My lord, we have witness testimony.”

Kamir watched as the boy shuffled nervously, and Kamir walked over, bending down and extending his hand. “You are not in any trouble.” The boy looked up and Kamir gasped. “Jael? Jael? By all that’s holy, where on earth did you come from?”

Jael must have answered but Kamir’s heart was beating so loudly he barely heard what Tam repeated, but then Jael coughed and Kamir quickly poured some fruit juice from the tables and handed it to the boy, who downed it gratefully. Kamir desperately tried to rein in his impatience.

“The Eastside have visitors,” he said, like Kamir was supposed to understand what that meant. He looked helplessly at Tam, but Tam was concentrating on the boy. “Moxie’s scouts saw them a bell ago. Paying for protection overnight,” Jael added.

“Moxie,” Kamir repeated, struggling to understand how a boy they’d left in Cadmeera managed to get here on his own.

“Highness,” Tam interrupted and focused on Jael. “Do you know how many visitors?”

“Moxie thinks at least twenty, but the female leading them is wrapped.”

“Wrapped?” Kamir blurted out. Jael nodded.

“In chains.”

Kamir blinked in confusion, but Tam answered. “Gold, Highness.” And Kamir’s breath caught, remembering the gold Elainore wore.

“Moxie doesn’t know how long they’ll be there for, but if you send guards, they’ll know instantly and vanish down the tunnels. Safe to say Eastside wouldn’t risk outsiders knowing where they were unless it was for a lot of coin. She wants to know what to do and sent me because she knew you’d believe me.”

Kamir nodded, pretending everything Jael said was reasonable.

“She also said don’t come because they see anyone they don’t recognize, and they might hurt him.” Jael swallowed heavily and at that moment Kamir knew Jael understood exactly who they thought was trapped down there.

“Are you on your own?” Kamir asked, terrified for a moment that Flynn and Candy were here. “And how are you here?”

“I was in the passageways when Tsaria got out. Followed him to the kitchen as I thought the surprise would be funny, but then he got into the cart. I was gonna follow but Cookie came back.”

“But I saw you before I left,” Kamir protested. “And you never said a word.”

Jael shrugged. “I knew you’d be leaving.”

Kamir stared at him in shocked understanding. “You hid in my carriage? But that’s impossible.”

Jael shrugged. “Underneath. But I jumped off when it slowed for the inn, in case you were mad and might send me back if you saw me.”

“Blessed goddess,” Kamir choked out and wrapped his arms around Jael and pulled him in tight. “We’re gonna find him. I promise.”

“How did you find Moxie?” Tam asked.

Jael sighed. “I waited around the inn to see if I could see Tsaria, but the inn-keep thought I was trying to thieve so he chased me off. I went to the palace eventually when one of the chambermaids told me you’d left, but the guards just laughed at me. Said I would be hung as an example if I didn’t skedaddle. I lived rough for a few days, but I was starving. I tried to go for a purse, and someone called Pip saw me. Told me I had talent, but needed help, so they took me underground, fed me, and that’s when I met Moxie. The other rats were still talking about the body slave, and I quickly worked out it was Tsaria. I was just tellin’ Moxie when Catnip came and told her about the eastside gang and their visitors. I said I would try again with the guards.”

“Sergeant heard him mention the dragon,” the guard put in. “Thought he should be brought here.”

“But wouldn’t you have been told he was missing?” Damatrious asked.

Tam cleared his throat apologetically. “I received a missive from Ash, and I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled, but they’re searching for him in Cadmeera.”

“You didn’t think it was important to tell me?” Kamir asked incredulously. Tam remained silent and while Kamir understood, he was sick of other people making decisions for him.

Damatrious thanked and dismissed the guards, leaving everyone staring at Jael. “I can take a message,” Jael said hopefully, “but Moxie says we can’t hang about ‘cos if they get to the catacombs we’ve no chance.” Jael looked ready to bolt, and Kamir didn’t blame him. He wanted to bolt as well.

“Tam?” Kamir prompted.

“He’s correct in that if we send guards, the sand people be gone moments after we step into the sewers,” Tam confirmed. “I was blindfolded, and I know each gang has scouts on their territories, not just for outsiders, but from other gangs. Territory is hard-won and fiercely fought over.”

“Suggestions?” Mansala murmured.

Tam looked at Mansala. “I can get in since I’ve been seen about the city and in the sewers, but no one else. I’ll get to Moxie and her rats. She can tell us which direction they are using and work out their exit.” Kamir wrinkled his nose in disgust at children being called vermin but kept silent. It was his fault, the emir’s fault, that they were there in the first place.

“Tam, go prepare what you need. Mansala, can you work out where Damatrious needs to position the guards so you can get Tsaria free? We need a meeting place. She can’t be allowed to do this a second time.” Kamir turned to Jael. “Come and eat.” He turned to Mansala. “I’m taking him to my private salon for food.”

Kamir led Jael out of the throne room and stayed silent as four imperial guards fell in to escort them. But once they were in his private salon, he dismissed them and led Jael to the refreshments always laid out, and Jael fell upon the food.

Kamir watched and felt just as useless even with the new information. He wanted to go find his beloved himself, and he heard an almost deafening roar in his head.

At least someone agreed with him.