Page 11 of The Jasad Crown (The Scorched Throne #2)

I saw the sea first, churning much closer than I expected. The moonlight spread to the mountainside, revealing the uneven stone face I had climbed down in the dark. It shifted to my right, casting its bluish hue over the source of the rushing water I’d been hearing for the last hour.

I gasped.

Streams poured over the side of the mountain, flowing in dozens of different directions as they cascaded over gleaming black ledges identical to the one beneath me. They rushed toward the sea like a traveler eager to reunite with an old friend.

I tasted the water the wind had generously whipped onto my face and grinned. No salt.

This was Hirun. The river truly did flow beneath the Desert Flats—all along, through droughts and dying crops, Orban had had access to Hirun just under its feet.

I tried to gauge how far I would have to climb to reach the middle of the waterfall. Once I confirmed the entry point, I would go back to the Gibal. The Urabi wouldn’t need to know I had ever left, and I would sleep easier having found a place to run if the need ever arose.

I turned around and went stiff. A scream lodged in my throat.

A woman stood on the ledge behind me, leaning against the rocks.

“So,” she said, “are we leaving?”

I was hundreds of feet from the top of the mountain. It would have been impossible for anyone to follow me unseen or appear without making a sound.

Displeased at my long silence, she heaved a sigh and jumped to the ledge under me. “I don’t mind if we stay. I like the little bouncing one. Omaima? Her magic intrigues me.”

A blur of motion as she twirled to another ledge, and when she glanced up, another woman’s face had replaced hers, thickly lashed green eyes dancing mischievously. “What do you think?”

My fingernails cut into my palms as I ran through my options. I was on a ledge in the middle of the mountainside. To my right, a waterfall ready to sweep me directly into the depths of Suhna Sea if I made a single misstep. To my left, a deranged apparition.

I inched closer to the waterfall.

“I think we should stay,” the green-eyed apparition said. “For now, at least. They are our best chance of winning our crown.”

Our crown?

My sleeve caught on the stream behind me, soaking my arm instantly. The blast of cold shattered the last of my shock, and my heart began to pound with sickening speed. What had I been thinking, coming down here? If I vanished—if this thing killed me—

I glanced up in a last feat of desperation, scouring the cliffside, and nearly choked with relief at the sight of a figure looming over the edge. The bad haircut, the slim frame—Efra. Thank the Awaleen. A real person who knew where I was, knew I needed help.

I waved my arms. “Find help!”

Efra didn’t move. He stood on the cliffside and simply watched. What did he think he was doing?

“We can punish him later,” she said.

I tore my gaze away from Efra. “Who are you?”

I lost sight of the apparition as it leapt onto another ledge.

“You know who we are.”

I startled. The voice, sea-deep and smooth as the finest glass, belonged to a man.

“Allow me to rephrase,” I growled. “What are you?”

I careened back as the stream nearest me erupted with movement. A hand closed around my wrist, and I gazed into bright gold-and-silver eyes identical to my own.

No, not identical—they were my eyes.

“What we are depends on you,” he said.

Before I could retreat, the hand on my wrist yanked me forward.

I tumbled into the waterfall.

I’d plummeted from great heights before. For most of them, blood loss and exhaustion shadowed my memories of the drop.

I knew I would remember this fall in excruciating detail.

The sudden weightlessness, the surge of terror in my hollowing stomach, the frigid wind battering me as the waterfall swept me toward the frothing surface of the sea.

I would remember shutting my eyes as my muscles tensed to prepare for impact.

My magic, sluggish in my veins as it pumped with my panic.

I plunged into the sea, and pain washed my world white.

My limbs disconnected from my command, and for a minute, I could not tell where I began or ended.

My lips parted beneath the freezing cold, accidentally inviting a surge of salt water to sear my throat.

The waves battered me, each choppier and more forceful than the next.

I clawed to the surface in time to vomit before another wave drew me down again.

The weight of the water closed in, wrapping icy fingers around my thrashing limbs.

I didn’t want to die.

Sensation left my extremities, until I no longer knew where to find my legs to keep them kicking. I drifted deeper into Suhna Sea’s embrace, my body growing lax as I choked on the last of my air.

Drowning in Suhna Sea, at least, was less embarrassing than drowning in the lake.

Wake.

My eyes flew open, shock tearing apart the settling shroud of sleep. What the—

The tide is strong. The next wave will hurl you against the cliff. You will not heal from a broken neck.

I didn’t recognize the voice; I hesitated to even describe it as one. It was more akin to a series of sentient—and uninvited—vibrations in my head.

Bubbles floated out of my mouth. If I still had air, I wasn’t dead.

Yet.

I jerked. What was that?

My legs struggled to push me toward the surface, shoving pitifully against the unyielding weight of the sea.

I sank.

My vision blurred for a terrible second. Between Hanim and training for the Alcalah, I could hold my breath for a significant amount of time, but I wouldn’t last much longer.

I needed my magic.

The vein on my palm brightened to a throbbing gold. Light poured from the vein, cutting through the black dots dancing in my vision. My feet hit an invisible barrier, and the light pushed out, forming a bubble around me.

I drew a desperate breath as air filled the bubble. A fist pressed to my chest, I hacked out buckets of seawater. My magic pumped with my pulse. Waiting. Eager to serve.

I would have preferred to be taken to the surface, but this would do while I collected myself. Sitting back on my haunches, I fixed my streaming eyes on the edges of the protective circle to check how far I would have to swim.

Odd. I squinted, trying to pierce through the prism of my magic’s light to the other side of the bubble. It almost looked like—

I screamed so loudly I threw myself into another coughing fit.

The light emanating from my vein illuminated dozens of creatures floating in the dark.

They pressed against the outside of the bubble, staring at me.

One of them, red-scaled and bulbous, unhinged a jaw large enough to swallow Raya’s keep.

Its fangs were unlike any I had seen before, twisted and curled around one another like a nest of thorns.

Baira’s blessed hair, was it… smiling?

Hello.

No amount of practice or training could corral my fear this time. It tore through me, obliterating any rational thought. My vein brightened again, and I acted without thinking, thrusting my arms to the sides and throwing my magic with every ounce of strength I possessed.

I intended to widen the bubble. Enough to push me to the surface, or just push the monsters back.

Instead, it burst.