Reza was ranting about something, but my awareness was fluttering in and out as my body processed the aftershocks of the pain. Eventually, I climbed to my feet and stood, facing him once more.
“You’re getting weak,” he spat. I didn’t respond, only inclined my head.
“My apologies for the breach in security. It won’t happen again.”
It would.
“Twice, they’ve managed to enter my palace, Kiyan! And this one managed to touch me. You’re lucky I didn’t rip your magic from you and turn you into one of those blithering fools you love so much.”
My guards standing behind Reza shifted uneasily. Removing my magic and turning me into a zulmi—the peris in River that Reza fully drained of their power, along with their youth, language, and identity—was no small threat.
But it wasn’t worth the battle now. And if Reza had actually tried to drain me of life and magic, I would be ready.
“Sir, it is imperative we leave to find Queen Azari’s crown.” I nearly winced as I said the words. I didn’t want Reza to get his hands on the crown, as that would solidify his power.
But finding it might be our only chance to unseat him.
Reza nodded, my earlier transgressions forgotten as his fickle attention was focused on something else.
“Yes. Where is the girl?”
“Recovering. I brought her a healer. We should leave as soon as she wakes.”
“I want that crown, and then I want every single rebel in this forsaken Court executed.” He spat the words, even the soldiers behind him flinching. I was surprised that we had gotten away with so little loss of life considering he had been injured.
Reza whirled away at my nod.
Then I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch him walk from the courtyard, not wanting to look at him any more than was necessary. The Salt soldiers and my guards dispersed as I headed to my own room, shutting the door behind me and leaning back against it, slowly sliding to the floor.
My hands shook as I lifted my shirt to examine the product of his latest torture. The fabric of my tunic was damp with sweat, and I exhaled slowly to steady my breath.
My fingers curled around the new scar that had formed on my torso, red and raw, layered atop the other ones, standing out like a woven river of pain across my skin.
The red scorpion curled up my side this time, the stinger arcing across my chest.
It was a bigger mark, as usually the length of Reza’s torture determined the size. The first time he’d done it, I tried to burn the mark off, charring my skin.
I still had the burn scar, but somehow the outline of the scorpion had stayed.
There was no way to remove the stamp of Reza’s magic from my body, the reminder that he held power over me.
But now, I didn’t want to remove them.
I wanted to look in the mirror every day and see a reminder of the scars he left, a reminder of the violence that had to be done to rid myself of him.
Chapter 28
I don’t know how much longer we can do this. The Citadel suspects you. They come almost daily to the house, asking where you are. Yaseema asks questions too, and I’m afraid for her. What will her world be like without her father?
But what will it be if we don’t fight for our freedom?
—Excerpt from a letter from Mahira Nazir to Zimran Nazir, unsent
Yaseema
I had expected the beast I’d attacked to be wet and dark, that I would be choked more by the foul stench that rolled off it. But when I was inside it, the creature smelled like fresh earth, like new leaves, likelife.
That is, untilI was suffocating.
