Page 102 of Storm of Ink and Blood

She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him away. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw Koura and Rabin now studying the pictures.

“I’ll explain everything,” she hissed before they turned to follow.

Zarya led them through Ishaan, her feet aching and her stomach rumbling with hunger, especially when she caught the scent of fried dough and fresh coffee from a nearby stand. Her mouth watered, but it wouldn’t do to linger out here. Hopefully, Yasen had a pot already brewing.

“This way,” she said, leading them down another street towards their flat.

When they entered, he was standing in the kitchen boiling water. He spun around as the door opened, blinking for a second before his face morphed from surprise into a scowl. “Zee! Where the fuck have you been!”

“Sorry,” she said, clasping her hands together. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I sent a note!”

“A note?!” he shouted as he approached. Sometimes, Zarya forgot how much bigger he was, but he towered over her in his worry and indignation. “All it said was I’m fine. Back soon. What was I supposed to interpret from that?”

She grimaced. “That I was fine and I’d be back soon?”

“You scared me half to death!”

She tipped her head and thrust out her bottom lip. “Aw, were you worried about me?”

His lip curled up, fire flashing in his stone-grey eyes. “Yes. I thought some monster had you. I thought you were swallowed into a pit. I thought you were—” He cut off before his eyes narrowed. Zarya looked over her shoulder to discover he was now glaring at Rabin. “Right. You. I was hoping she’d told you to fuck off.”

Then, his gaze fell on Row and Koura, his brow furrowing further with confusion before he noted the state of their attire. They were all a wind-blown mess. Well, Zarya was. Rabin looked perfect. Koura didn’t have any hair to mess. And Row always looked formidable no matter what.

“What on earth happened?” he demanded.

“Come on,” Zarya said, “we’ll explain everything.”

They called down to the local restaurant for breakfast and shared what had happened in Dharati. Or Zarya, Row, and Koura explained. Any time Rabin opened his mouth, Yasen threw him a scathing glare, so he sat back, grumbling under his breath but otherwise remaining silent.

“Vikram’s different, Yas,” she said. “I don’t know what’s happened, but he’s not the same man he was.”

Yasen shook his head. “I wish I could have seen him.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “He might need a friend.”

Yasen shifted in his seat as if trying to work away something uncomfortable. “At some point, I’ll go back. Right now, we’re needed here. So, what did you find out?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Zarya pulled the spelled notebook out of her pocket and flipped it open. The pages crinkled softly as she scanned them while Row hovered over her, devouring each word.

The Jadugara were founded shortly after the Hanera Wars when thousands of the Ashvins’ descendants were rounded up. The ruling factions were focused on eradicating the darkness, and anyone with ties to the twins had a target on their backs.

One young Aazheri hid away, escaping his fate, and went in search of others like him—namely those with six anchors. He founded a fledging underground movement as a refuge for others with the darkness inside them. Eventually, they resurfaced as an organized group, hiding their dark magic and vowing to hunt down anyone with Ashvin blood in the name of Rahajhan. The rulers quickly came to rely on them, thankful to have the dirty work passed out of their hands.

Thus, they survived their own persecution while hiding in plain sight and dooming their own to a cage.

They quietly used their sixth anchor to create the ink and were responsible for the collars, further earning them the trust of Rahajhan’s royals. The vanshaj were Aazheri—they always had been. Only the circumstances of their birth, and quite likely, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, landed them on the wrong side of everything.

The Jadugara began seeking out young male vanshaj with the sixth anchor to bolster their ranks. They’d devised some kind of technique to sense it within their blood and would remove the children from the mothers when they were born, claiming their babies had died. They then raised the boys within the Imarat, training them to become Jadugara.

Zarya could hear the echoing screams of the distraught mothers, crying for their lost children, having no idea they’d actually been stolen. As she read the tale out to the silent listeners, a tear slipped down her cheek that she brushed away with the back of her hand.

When she was done reading, everyone sat still, stewing in their thoughts. Row looked like he wanted to be sick. She hadn’t managed to copy all the book’s contents, but they’d already confirmed enough.

“What else does it say?” Yasen said a minute later, his voice soft as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

Zarya flipped through the pages, looking for anything else that might prove useful.