Alishara stepped forward, voice taking a darker tone. “Do not speak to me as though I were some common rabble.”
“Clearly, you are not. Clearly, you are very informed.” Hatan also stepped forward, keeping a hand on his weapon, but ensuring his expression remained impassive. “You know more about what’s going on than anybody else I have met. But I have already ascertained that you take some pleasure in controlling that information, you take frustration with your current status, and that you are either much older than you appear, or your youth has been stolen from you to be replaced with the spirit of some disdainful soul.” Hatan folded his arms as she continued to look down her nose at him. “A disdainful soul that I find very intriguing. One with whom I would like to associate on friendlier terms. Whatever your designs are, you see a use in me and the people of Jehubal. It seems that we could help each other.”
Alishara nodded jerkily. “You will make a fine adversary for our foe. It will be a shame when you die, but you are wrong. There is nothing you can do to help me.”
“That is not true. You have some benefit in the survival of Jehubal, do you not?”
“There is some truth there.” She folded her arms.
“Then it would be advantageous for you if I actually believed what you’ve shared. You understand I have every reason to doubt you, right?”
Alishara frowned. “I know what I am about. I am a powerful seer. Jehubal will fall in the coming days with or without my help.”
“But with your help we might last a few days longer?”
There was a long pause as she regarded him, the frown never leaving her face. “It will last longer.”
“Then let that be enough. Now, before we take any action, how shall I believe anything that you’ve said?”
“You are a stubborn fool.”
“And you are a stranger whom I have no reason to trust.”
Alishara smiled, a wicked grin that made Hatan feel as though he’d won her over. “Sands, you’re a clever fool. Ranaz should have had the queen killed years ago. It would have put you on the throne much sooner. Perhaps then we could have avoided this whole mess.” She sighed. “Meet me in that war room of yours. I can explain more there.”
Without another word, Alishara leaned back, sinking into the stone wall before disappearing.
“She just went into the sanding wall,” Emil said, then he glanced at Hatan nervously and added, “apologies, sir.”
Penym breathed a laugh. “Hatan, didn’t you claim that you were simply a warrior and not a politician?”
Hatan shrugged, still staring at the perfectly intact wall Alishara had left behind. “Perhaps I can be both. I did mostly grow up here in the palace after all.” He clapped Emil on the shoulder. “Fetch your brother and Captain Falshon. We’ll meet in the war room.”
“Right, sir,” Emil said with a quick nod before dashing off through the hall, silent as the air itself.
“And what of me, Hatan?” Penym asked.
Hatan regarded her with her steady gaze, stolid expression, standing at the ready. Sands, he already felt as though she’d changed since their first meeting only a few months ago. “You may as well accompany me there. It will help to have another perspective. Besides, if we are all about to die, it won’t matter how well our new shops are doing.”
“You are right in that,” she said. She smiled, glancing down before looking back up at him. That hook he’d felt in his gut earlier was gone. That fear that had taken root in him, drawing doubts. Instead he felt a swelling as she beamed up at him. It was something about the gentleness of her eyes. It soothed him.
“Shall we go?” she said, gesturing to the door.
“Yes,” he said, shaking himself from the reverie. “Yes, of course.”
Sands, Migo. What was his cousin up to?
Chapter twenty-four
Intoxicated
Migo was in greater pain than he cared to admit. Most of the stabs and slashes from the waheshi were trivial, but the one across his side had gone deep enough to strike a rib. He did not seem to bleed much as Ashjagar, and none of the injuries seemed to impede his movement, but they did make it a whole sanding lot harder to focus.
And Katsi looked weak. Her skin was raw around her enhancement jewelry, and her whole body sagged as if under a great weight. He worried she’d fall off once he launched into the air.
The waheshi came charging, and Migo had little time to ensure that all his passengers were safely secure. He gave a warning bounce before taking a bounding step.
He was distinctly aware of Katsi making a suppressed scream as one final bolt of lightning burst down from above, striking the three waheshi just as Migo jumped. He pounded his wings, feeling all four passengers press down into his body. They clung to his spines, though he could feel Katsi’s desperate grip as she hooked an elbow around one of his spines. Her body was shaking.
The sooner they got out of the place, the better.
As he rose higher, he got a better view of the city, beholding the extent of its devastation. Half the city was practically rubble. Unchecked, earthmelders and waheshi had torn through. It was a massacre. How many people had managed to get away? Would they even survive outside the city? If the survivors fled to the next protected area and the Reyganins followed them, how long would it take before that place fell?
They’d been too late. They weren’t prepared. Perhaps if some of the other shamans had come with them, they would have been able to win. And Katsi needed better guidance or control, or something. He could only hope that the artifact being forged of Ranaz’s and Kasti’s blood would be worth it.
And what of Jehubal? What of Cataban or Rhian? They could all fall just as quickly.
The burning in his chest still swelled, amplified by the energy of Katsi’s lightning. He wasn’t sure what the connection was, but something about it fueled his ability to breathe that red fire. The same thing had happened when Ranaz had tried to strike him with lightning, but had reinvigorated him instead.
Migo glided low, heading toward the rim of the Scorched Waste where they’d first arrived. The wound in his side already felt a little better, but the fact that he’d even gotten it was still alarming. Whatever other ingredients had been used in the potion that created him could very well have been used in creating the waheshi. It was like Katsi said, he was perfect for combating shamans, but the waheshi were still a formidable foe. At least he could fight them better in this form.
He spotted his clothes in a pile where he’d left them and dropped to the ground, trying to land as softly as possible. The passengers jostled about as he thunked down. Katsi practically fell off with a gasp.
“Careful,” he tried to say, but it came out as a terrible growl. He needed to experiment with making different sounds. He was sure his throat could make all the same vowel sounds, but consonants were another question. It frustrated him to no end. He had no ability to communicate strategies with Katsi while they were in the city. They had to carry on by instinct for the most part, but she did seem to understand him sometimes, almost subconsciously.
“Oh, Highness,” the warrior said, looking back toward the city.
“There’s no helping it now, Tat,” Vasash said. “We’ll have to hope that the people make it to the fort and can hold out there.”
