Noor laughed, then held up a large gold key ring that glinted in the moonlight. “Who needs to hop the wall when I already swiped the keys to the front gate from Thohfsa?”
Ten
Shouts sounded in the distance as the rest of the prison guards ran toward the infirmary. Noor’s hands shook as she unlocked the entrance and we both slipped through the main door under cover of darkness while the front patrols were distracted.
My heart pounded louder than our eager footsteps, but when my feet first hit the loose sand by the water, I felt like flying.
We’d made it to the beach.
Escape was in our sights.
We found a rickety boat and dragged it down to the water as silently as we could. My bloodied hands finally let go of my swords and picked up an oar instead.
We rowed into the night, adrenaline fueling our arms. I should have been too exhausted to move, but my skin felt alive, as if freedom had flooded me with new fire. We had no clear direction of where we were going, just that we were leaving the prison behind us.
“I can’t believe we just did that. I can’t believeyoujust did that.” Noor’s voice trembled and I wasn’t sure if she was going to laugh or cry.
I felt my own giddy laughter bubbling up in my chest.
“Those guards barely had basic sword training,” I said, unable tokeep the grin from my face. “It wouldn’t have been possible with proper soldiers.”
Noor scoffed. “It shouldn’t have been possible at all. Have you been consuming djinn magic? How did you do that?”
I paused in my rowing and rubbed the back of my neck. It wasn’t magic that had my sword moving through the air like lightning, my reflexes quick as a cat.
It was training.
Every attack, parry, and defense was muscle memory.
Dark eyes and steady hands flashed through my mind as I thought of who I’d done all those hours of training with.
If I closed my eyes, I could even hear the whisper of his careful footsteps beside me. Until I wasn’t just recalling the sparring, but the other things too. The parts of him I desperately wanted to forget—the small smile in the corner of his mouth when he watched me, the catch in his voice when he said my name. I curled my fingers into my palms, nails biting skin, trying to escape the onslaught of him, each memory as if it was ingrained on my skin.
But I buried them, those moments of softness that I didn’t want to think about—because they were lies.
The only truth between us had been on the battlefield.
And I didn’t want to speak his name, not now.
“I grew up with every kind of sword my entire life. My father made them, but he also made sure I knew how to use them,” I said finally, suffocating the other words that threatened to leap out.
“That he did.” Noor looked out at the dark ocean and for a moment we let our boat bob on the water, both consumed by bigger thoughts.
“Dani, I didn’t tell you everything.” Noor’s low voice cut underneath the steady rush of the ocean.
I looked up, something in her voice stilling the oar in my hands.
Noor’s vibrant eyes met mine across the moonlit sea. “I know exactly where Souma’s treasure is.”
I inhaled, the sea air winding its way around my lungs, the possibilities of her admission running through my mind better than any prison escape strategy. It replaced warm thoughts of Maz and gave me something else.
Something that felt like vengeance.
I had suspected she knew where it was. But now it was certain, the potential was limitless. All that power. All that magic.
What would I do if I had the power to make anything happen?
This time the memories that assaulted me weren’t comforting, they were steeped in bitterness. Mazin’s immovable face as he watched me being dragged away by the palace guards. Captain Darbaran’s grubby fingers as they bit into the flesh of my arm and fastened thick chains around my wrist.
