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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

N aya’s footsteps echoed against the stone pathways as she made her way deeper into the canyon, morning light filtering down through the natural crevices and fissures above.

The familiar sounds and scents of the canyon drifted from the communal areas—roasted grain and honey tea, children’s laughter mixing with the low hum of conversation—but her mind remained fixed on the conversation from the night before.

Akoro’s solution. To modify the nnol ttaehh mael curse, binding wild magic to a place instead of a person. Brilliant in its simplicity, terrifying in its implications.

Her stomach clenched as she thought through his explanation of how his cousin had learned the curse.

The memory of Akoro’s voice haunted her—rough with self-loathing as he’d spoken of torture, of breaking another’s will.

And now Akoro wanted to use that same technique to save everyone.

The irony burned like hot coal. An Alpha’s solution to a magical crisis, built on knowledge gained through Omega suffering, requiring an Omega’s trust to execute.

Could she really ask the Ilǐa Omegas to support a plan that relied on such a dark foundation?

The canyon walls seemed to press closer as doubt gnawed at her.

She would have to stand before the assembly and ask them to trust not just her magical abilities, but Akoro’s capacity to wield a curse designed to bind and control.

The same assembly that included women who’d spent their lives fearful of Alpha cruelty.

She paused at a junction in the path, uncertainty freezing her steps. What if she was wrong to trust him? What if the technique failed and she led them all to destruction? What if?—

“Princess?” A voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts.

Naya looked up to see one of the younger Omegas approaching with a water jug, her expression curious but respectful. Copper threads gleamed through her dark hair in the shifting light.

“Good morning,” Naya said. “Do you know where Oshrun is?”

“Yes, princess. She and Nnimi have just finished their morning meal, so they’ll probably be in their chambers.”

Relief flooded through her. “Thank you.”

Naya changed direction, her steps quickening as she navigated the familiar path to Oshrun’s private quarters. The burden of her proposal pressed against her chest, but she pushed forward. There was no time for doubt now.

She found the entrance to Oshrun’s chambers and called out softly. “Oshrun? It’s Naya. I need to speak with you urgently.”

Rustling sounds came from within, followed by Oshrun’s voice. “Come in, Naya.”

Naya stepped through the hanging fabric doorway into the warm, lived-in space.

Tapestries covered the walls in deep reds and golds, and woven rugs softened the stone floor.

Oshrun sat cross-legged on cushions with Nnimi curled against her side, both of them sharing a bowl of honey cakes that gleamed in the filtered light.

The little girl’s face lit up when she saw Naya.

“Naya!” Nnimi scrambled to her feet, nearly upsetting the bowl in her excitement.

“Good morning, little Nnimi,” Naya said, but her eyes were on Oshrun, whose expression had already shifted to alert concern.

“What’s happened?” Oshrun asked, rising gracefully.

“I need to call an emergency assembly meeting,” Naya said. “We have a solution to the storm, but it’s...” She glanced at Nnimi, choosing her words carefully. “It’s complicated. And dangerous.”

Oshrun’s amber eyes sharpened, studying Naya’s face. “How dangerous?”

“It could save everyone or kill us all for trying,” Naya said quietly.

The Khesh was silent for a long moment, her gaze flicking to her daughter before returning to Naya. Whatever she saw in Naya’s expression seemed to convince her.

“I’ll send word immediately,” Oshrun said, moving toward a small writing desk. “Will you stay with Nnimi?”

“Of course.”

“Mima, what’s happening?” Nnimi asked, her small voice uncertain as she sensed the tension between the adults.

Oshrun knelt beside her daughter, brushing her cheek with a thumb. “Princess Naya just needs to speak with the assembly.”

Nnimi stared at her, large eyes wide and fearful.

Oshrun hugged her. “There’s nothing to worry about, shkǔ nǔlrǐ. You remember what we discussed about grown-up conversations? Sometimes they are urgent and important, but all will be well.”

Nnimi nodded solemnly, though her golden-brown eyes remained worried.

After Oshrun left, Naya settled onto the cushions and patted the space beside her. “Would you like to read to me? I never finished the story about the flower.”

The little girl’s face brightened. She grabbed her book and scrambled over to curl up against Naya’s side. The simple comfort of the child’s presence helped ease some of the anxiety coiling in Naya’s chest.

As they waited, Naya found herself thinking about the plan again, but now with Nnimi’s small hand in hers, the stakes transformed into something visceral.

This wasn’t just about saving cities or preserving alliances—it was about protecting families like this one, ensuring that little girls could grow up safe and loved.

And yet the thought of Akoro performing the binding custom, standing at the center of a magical storm while she drew every piece of wild magic in the region toward him, made her stomach clench with fear. What if something went wrong? What if she lost control and the magic consumed him?

What if she lost him just when she was beginning to understand how much he meant to her?

Oshrun returned within the hour. “The assembly is ready,” she said, then knelt beside her daughter. “Nnimi, Princess Naya needs to attend to important matters now. Veshna is here and she’s going to take you to the playnest. Will you be good for me?”

“Can’t I come, too?” Nnimi asked, her lower lip jutting out in a pout that reminded Naya achingly of Lili at that age.

“Not this time, Nnimi,” Naya said gently, pressing a kiss to the top of Nnimi’s head. “But we’ll see each other later, if there’s time.”

Nnimi nodded reluctantly, letting her mother shepherd her outside, a honey cake clutched in her small hands.

Oshrun led Naya through the winding passages toward the assembly chamber, their footsteps quick and purposeful. Other Omegas moved through the corridors with unusual urgency, word of the emergency meeting spreading through the community like ripples in still water.

“They’ll want details,” Oshrun said quietly as they climbed toward the upper levels. “But some will demand to know every risk, every potential consequence.”

“I know,” Naya replied, though her stomach churned at the thought of explaining Akoro’s solution to women who’d spent their lives hiding from cruelty, and especially this particular Alpha’s family’s cruelty

They reached the familiar circular chamber where golden sunlight streamed down through the natural opening above.

The twelve stone seats arranged in their perfect circle held the same women Naya had faced before, but now that the storm was so close, tension radiated from every figure.

The assembly members—some Naya recognized, others still unfamiliar—watched her with sharp attention.

“Princess,” Oshrun said formally as they entered, “the assembly awaits your proposal.”

Naya moved to the stone bench at the circle’s center, every eye following her movement. The collective gaze settled over her, but she straightened her spine and met their stares directly.

“Thank you for convening so quickly,” Naya began, her voice stronger than she expected. “What I’m about to propose may be our only chance to stop the nnin-eellithi storm. But I won’t lie to you—it’s dangerous, and it requires us to trust in methods that carry... complicated history.”

She drew a steadying breath. “King Sy has proposed a solution that combines my magical abilities with an ancient binding technique. Instead of trying to destroy or deflect the storm, we would draw all the nnin-eellithi in the region to a single location—the Nnǐn-kka Sands—and bind them there permanently using a modified nnol ttaehh mael .”

Gasps erupted around the chamber, followed by a silence that made the air brittle. Several assembly members leaned back in shock, while others shook their heads in horror. Ttela had gone completely still, her features carved from stone. Even Yshara was speechless.

“You’re suggesting,” said the woman with intricate tattoos marking her temples, her voice carefully controlled, “that we trust an Alpha to perform the proximity binding?”

“Not on a person,” Naya clarified quickly. “The technique would be modified—instead of binding someone to remain close, it would bind the magic to the sand—the Nnǐn-kka Sands where it originally belonged.”

“Impossible,” Ttela said flatly. “The nnol ttaehh mael requires a living connection to function. Blood, breath, heartbeat—the binding needs something animated to anchor to. You cannot bind magic to empty sand.”

A younger assembly member with curious dark eyes spoke up. “But the Nnǐn-kka Sands aren’t empty, are they? They contain the Sand Pits, and those are already magical conduits. If the curse targeted the existing magical infrastructure rather than the sand itself...”

“You’re talking about binding wild magic to contained magic,” said another woman, her expression troubled. “That’s forced confinement. The magical pressure alone could shatter every Sand Pit in the region.”

“Which is a lesser devastation than the storm hitting Onn Kkulma,” another Omega with straight black hair added.

Oshrun leaned forward in her carved seat. “Princess, explain your role in this plan. How would you gather all the nnin-eellithi to one location?”

“Using my awareness and the modified staff you created for me,” Naya said, “I can sense the nnin-eellithi across vast distances, their moods and intentions. The plan is to draw them like a beacon—make myself irresistible to every piece of wild magic in the region—and lead them to the binding site.”