Page 75 of Crown of the Dunes

Before I could try to make out the words they exchanged from the shape of their lips, the large man dragged Adette from the room and out into the night. Without a plan, I shot to my feet. I left my laka on the table, nearly knocking over the girl who had brought it to me as I barreled toward the door.

I blinked into the darkness of evening as I stepped outside, the shadows harsh against the warm light of many lanterns at my back. The man and Adette were nowhere to be seen, and the voices in my skull echoed in anger loud enough that I barely heard it—a scuffle and a muffled yelp around the corner.

My feet carried me toward the sound and my magic flared forcefully at the sight that greeted me as I rounded the back wall of the building. Adette cowered on the ground with her arms up, shielding her face, while the man towered over her.

After weeks leashing my power, only loosening my control enough to carefully move some rocks, my control snapped. I had a target at which to direct my ire, and the force of my anger crashed in around me.

In two steps, I was on the man. I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved him away from Adette. Without thought, the threads of my power snapped taut, and he flew across the alley, hitting the opposite wall with a resonating crack. I followed him, not bothering to reach for the fibers of magic, instead raising my fist and slamming it into his face with a meaty crunch.

He crumpled to the ground, and I hissed in disappointment. He had fallen all too easily, but my knuckles itched as I clenched my fists, wanting to keep hitting something. After so long keeping all my power and rage on a leash, it had had a taste of freedom and wanted more—just as I did. I raised my arm again and slammed my fist into the wall where his face had been before he fell. A loud crack echoed through the alleyway as the stone broke, tiny fractures spreading out from the point where my hand made contact. Under my gloves, my knuckles split, and a jolt ran up my arm.

White flashed behind my eyes at the sharp sting of pain, and I blinked as warm blood pooled in my gloves from my split skin. The shock was enough to pull my rage back into the messy tangle at the base of my skull. But it wasn’t quite enough to silence the voices.

A gasp from behind me caught my attention, and I grimaced.

I turned to find that Adette had stood from where she had cowered and looked at me curiously. Growing dread was almost enough to reignite my magic, and I clenched my bruised fist harder, the sharp punctuation of the growing ache grounding me. She had seen how dangerous I was. No doubt it would be enough to overcome whatever loyalty to Keera had managed to buy her silence regarding my nighttime visits to this point.

“Is your hand all right?” she asked.

I blinked.

“Let me see if it’s broken.” Adette stepped toward me and reached out. I stepped back, shaking my head.

“It’s not,” I insisted.

“How are you sure?”

“I’ve broken it before. I know what it feels like.”

Her lips twisted in something that was halfway between a smile and a grimace. “If you feel like breaking your hand again, feel free to do it on my husband’s face.” She gestured at the unconscious man, slumped on the ground behind me.

“I don’t think you should be encouraging me to punch anybody,” I grumbled, flexing my hand to ensure that I hadn’t lied to her about it being broken.

She looked at me as if trying to decide something. “I won’t tell anybody.”

I stilled. “Why not?”

“I like being the queen’s attendant.” She shrugged. “And it means I never have to live under my husband’s roof again. Queen Keera gave me a place to live without hesitation, and I’m loyal to those who help me.”

She glanced at her fallen husband on the ground. I grimaced.

“Thank you,” I said, the words tasting odd in my mouth. “I—I should go, and so should you. Before somebody finds this mess.”

Adette nodded and scurried from the alleyway. Before turning the corner though, she looked back over her shoulder at me, as I contemplated what to do with the man on the ground. “Leave him,” she said. Then she hurried off into the night.

I contemplated for a few moments longer, before following her lead, although I took the long way back to the palace.

Chapter nineteen

Keera

Ipulled my fingers away from the smooth metal rings decorating my ear and returned my hands to their death grip on the arm of the throne for the third time in a row. Since Neven had talked me into letting him pierce my ears a week ago, I had found myself toying with the golden jewelry often. Under the scrutiny of the archons and ambassadors, the urge to fidget was strong. Even as I stilled my hands, I found myself bouncing my knee.

“Has the king responded to your request to negotiate a trade for grain?” Torin asked from my right side.

Prince Calix tucked his hands behind his back and inclined his head where he stood at the foot of the steps leading up to where I sat. “I expect to hear from him any day now. The time it has taken him to send his reply gives me hope that he is drawing up a proposal for trade. Kelvadan has always been a valued ally, and we look forward to continuing our fruitful relationship.”

General Warrick’s upper lip pulled back in a sneer at Calix’s words. His replies were never so artful, and while I couldn’t exactly blame him—I had yet to learn to fluently speak the language of diplomacy—his open distaste for every negotiation needled me.