Page 40 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)

Nyzaia

“ T hirteen.”

“Twenty.”

“Two,” Rafik chimed in.

“He’s been with more than two women!” Issam exclaimed, his voice bouncing off the high sandstone walls as the group rode through the canyons in a line, with Nyzaia in the middle.

“Look at those eyes; there is no way only two women have fallen for his smoulder!” Jabir, who estimated twenty, shouted at Rafik.

“So, you think his eyes are smouldering ?” Rafik called back, grinning.

“That’s, uh—no. I—”

Nyzaia shook her head and glanced sideways at Farid, whose expression was unreadable as he stared straight ahead. He is in her spot, she realised, and her smile faltered.

“Come on, Farid! Put us out of our misery. Am I taking Rafik’s gold for his poor bet of two?” Issam nudged Farid from atop his horse beside him, who jostled slightly and glanced at Nyzaia with widened eyes, pleading for help.

“None of you were right,” he relented.

“Who was closest?” Jabir asked, dropping the horse’s reins and opening his water pouch.

“Rafik,” Farid said in a clipped tone.

“Ha! I knew it wouldn’t be many. Farid oozes respect, you idiots,” laughed Rafik.

“So how many?” Jabir asked before taking a swig of water.

Nyzaia looked at Farid, unable to deny her intrigue, though she wished they would change the topic; poor Farid had been berated since leaving Nefere Valley.

The other men appeared more interested in Farid and showed him more respect since he had defended Nyzaia from Tajana.

Farid glanced at Jabir, who still guzzled water under the heat of the sun.

“One.”

Jabir sputtered, spitting water as he choked. Issam slapped him on the back.

“Only one?” Issam exclaimed, and Farid nodded.

“Was she the love of your life?” Rafik asked. “Did you declare she was the only one for you?” Rafik continued with a dramatic gesture of his arm. Nyzaia rolled her eyes.

“No. It only took one woman to realise I prefer men,” Farid said flatly. Silence followed. “So, does that mean I get all thirteen golds on offer?”

Laughter erupted among the men.

“I expect better of you all. How could you assume he was only interested in women?” Nyzaia asked. Issam emptied coins from his pouch and handed them to Farid, who tucked them in his pockets.

“He has this ‘I’m tall, dark, and mysterious’ air about him,” Issam jested. “Women like that.”

“Men like that too,” Jabir said, having recovered from choking. A coy smile crossed Nyzaia’s face as Farid’s lip twitched.

A dark figure flitted high atop the rock edge.

Nyzaia refrained from fully turning her head but did so enough to recognise the uniform of the Spies.

She rolled her eyes. It was once standard to have a Red Stone trailing royalty, lords, and the wealthiest of Keres, but it was bold of them to continue such acts when she had become queen.

“I see him,” Rafik confirmed beside her before veering into the shadows. He kicked his horse into a gallop beneath the cliff edge, where the spy likely crawled.

“A threat?” Farid asked at Nyzaia’s side. She shook her head .

“Unlikely.”

The group continued their journey through the canyons while awaiting Rafik’s return.

The mid-afternoon sun was sweltering, and although the forge would be hotter, the sun would have lowered by the time they arrived, offering a reprieve from the flow of lava as the metal workers finished their shifts.

A short scream echoed as the trail inclined, guiding the group to the top of the forge where endless recruits had trained over the years. Rafik would shortly be on his way with the spy in tow.

“A bet on how terrified the guy is?” Issam chuckled.

“No more bets! You are banned from betting for the rest of this trip, Issam!” Nyzaia scolded, and he rolled his eyes as they reached the summit to find Rafik waiting with his hands grasping the collar of a slight boy, barely eighteen.

He was likely only two years into his training, which explained the ease with which Rafik had caught him.

“Do I want to know why you were spying on your queen?” Nyzaia asked. She dismounted her horse and passed Jabir the reins. The boy shifted on his feet, his toes scraping the red dust. Rafik raised him higher. The boy’s wide eyes scanned the circling syndicate, sweat beading on his brow.

“For your safety,” the boy gasped.

“Why would she need safety from you when she has us?” asked Farid, placing his hand on his blade. Nyzaia summoned a flame to dance across her palm, waiting for the boy’s answer. He gulped. The former queen of the Red Stones advanced until her flames licked the hairs on his arms.

“Okay, okay. The committee asked me to!” Too easy.

“The committee?” Nyzaia repeated. She walked towards the cliff edge to find the workers slowly packing for the evening.

“When no one replaced you, the heads of each pillar formed a committee,” said the boy.

“A democracy,” Nyzaia scoffed. “The Red Stones have never been run in such a manner; they have always had a leader.” Nyzaia recalled the time she had challenged Tajana’s whereabouts, who revealed she had visited the Red Stones.

They needed a leader, Tajana said, though it appeared her lover had lied again.

The pillars had formed a committee. She turned against the setting sun to face her syndicate.

Rafik and Issam wore matching frowns while Jabir focused on Nyzaia, waiting for further instruction.

“They said if you would not lead, then they would,” the spy added.

“They are constantly bickering; that will not work,” Nyzaia said firmly, and the boy stared at his feet.

“They said you abandoned them.”

Nyzaia narrowed her eyes.

“Abandoned?” she sneered. “Do you think I had a choice in this?”

“They said Arjun would never have abandoned us,” Nyzaia scoffed. She had once placed Arjun, their previous leader, on a pedestal, but that time had long passed.

“For the love of the gods! Stop digging yourself into a hole!” shouted Issam.

Nyzaia took slow steps forward, elongating each movement as Rafik dropped the boy’s cloak.

He landed, eye to eye, with Nyzaia. Flames engulfed her arms. The spy tried to step back but quickly collided with Rafik’s hardened stance.

“Arjun Qadir was greedy and power-hungry; he planned to leave you the second he had a chance. That is why he was killed at my hand.” Nyzaia’s voice was a deadly whisper.

“You can tell your committee that I will pay them a visit, and they better be ready.” The boy trembled, and Nyzaia felt his shaky breath on her cheek. “GO!” He took off at a run.

“If that had been a bet—”

“Shut it, Issam!” Nyzaia commanded.

“Was that really why Qadir was killed?” Farid asked as Nyzaia strode back to the edge of the cliff, waiting for her syndicate to join.

“We discovered he was funnelling funds from the wealthy and withholding earnings from nearly all the pillars,” Jabir confirmed, crossing his arms to match Nyzaia’s stance.

“He had bought a ship and was packing his things when we found him,” Nyzaia continued.

“Why was he fleeing?” asked Farid, and Nyzaia shrugged.

“No idea. It does not matter. Abandonment is punishable by trial and then death.” Nyzaia finished. Farid seemed contemplative beside her.

“A traitor is not worthy of their life,” Farid said, and Isaam gave a bark of laughter.

“Careful, Farid. You’re starting to sound like one of us.” Nyzaia was uncertain if her syndicate was a bad influence or if Farid’s experiences had shaped him into the defensive yet protective man he was.

“So, where do you think it will be?” Jabir asked Farid, gesturing to the forge.

Nyzaia regarded the forge, trying to determine herself.

The forge was a wise place to hide something so valuable.

No one from the other realms could withstand the heat for long.

Nyzaia was unsure if even those with a tie to Keres’ power could wield the lava, herself included.

The forge split into parts. The main strip running through the canyon was a river of flowing lava, bubbling up from the large crack down the middle and gushing from the crevices in the rock where they stood.

At regular intervals were stations housing metal ore and blacksmith tools to meld, hammer, and shape the metal into weapons.

Watchtowers were stationed at each end of the river to survey the workers.

“Surely it is not beneath the lava?” asked Nyzaia, looking at Farid.

“It is below where we stand,” he said. The other four shared a look before peering cautiously over the edge to where lava flowed roughly halfway down like a waterfall.

“You are lying,” Jabir said with a nervous laugh, but Farid looked him dead in the eye.

“I do not lie. ”

Nyzaia cleared her throat and waited for Farid to untense his shoulders. He did so when he met her eye, his face softening.

“The lava hides multiple alcoves, with some small enough to hide items and others big enough to hide people,” Farid continued.

Nyzaia opened her mouth to question him, but Farid quickly steered the conversation.

“Are you affected by lava?” he asked. Nyzaia recalled her earlier days of training with Kazaar and the Red Stones.

She had never wielded lava, yet she had not tested it since becoming queen and inheriting all her power.

“I could never control it, but that does not mean it will harm me.” Nyzaia’s voice lacked confidence.

“If you can scale down until you’re in line with the flow, you will see a wide gap where it falls away from the rock. It should offer enough space to reach under and check for cavities within the wall.”

“Great, this sounds like fun,” Nyzaia muttered. Rafik jogged to the horses and back, returning with thick rope.

“We need to be quick; the lava will offer some light, but the sun will soon be behind the Zivoi mountains,” said Jabir, analysing the horizon where the sun began to fall, their path aglow in countless shades of orange and red.