Page 73 of The Jasad Crown (The Scorched Throne #2)

Sorn shrugged. His enthusiasm for throwing startling news at me had waned, and boredom began to creep back into his expression. “How should I know?”

I smoothed the end of Diya’s quilt. “Open your trade routes and protect your travelers for the next twelve days. After that, you can sit back and watch the lot of us tear one another apart if you wish.” I spread my hands wide.

“I know you don’t care for pretty speeches, Sorn.

I don’t have one to give you. Every step of this will be hideous. It will be brutal, grisly, and bloody.”

He arched a brow. “Now you’re just trying to get me excited.”

“But our magic is not going anywhere,” I continued, exhaling my annoyance, “and neither are we. Jasad’s time has come. When the bloodshed ends, you can either find yourself with a powerful new ally, or four enemies.”

“What happens in twelve days?”

I raise the fortress and die, or I raise the fortress and go mad.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

Sorn scratched his head, curling a short strand absently. “I could change my mind after you revive Diya. You have nothing to ensure I’ll stay true to my word.”

I shot him a chastising look and tapped Diya’s leg under the quilt. “I believe the key to keeping your duplicitous hide in line is lying right here. As easily as we can cure her from this slumber, we can just as easily send her back. Or worse.”

I had no idea whether we could send Diya back into her endless slumber. Nor did I particularly want to kill the only Champion I’d befriended during the Alcalah. The feasibility of my threat was immaterial. To a man as desperate as Sorn, the threat alone sufficed.

Sorn stared at me a long time. Eventually, he looked over at Diya. I fought back a twinge of reluctant pity for the Heir. Longing and devastation had ravaged him, clear as day in his drawn expression.

Sorn chuckled softly. “Thank the Awaleen you and Arin are on opposite sides of this. The combined force of you could bring the rest of us to ruination.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, damn you. Yes. Wake her, and Orban will open the trade routes.”

“Just open?”

Sorn’s jaw worked. “Open and protect the trade routes.”

Finally, a victory. A mostly bloodless win. I struggled not to grin at the Jasadis.

Not a win yet, I reminded myself. First, we had to wake Diya.

“Lateef.” I inclined my head toward the sleeping figure in invitation.

Lateef rounded the bed, moving to the side opposite Sorn. He took a deep breath and laid a hand on Diya’s forehead. Sorn’s shoulders stiffened. It seemed to take considerable effort for him not to smack Lateef away from his Champion.

“His magic is generalized,” I explained. “He can use it to heal her.”

Moments passed. Lateef’s eyes moved rapidly behind his closed lids. Namsa shifted her weight, tension lining her brow.

Not a single twitch from Diya.

With a heavy exhale, Lateef opened his eyes and drew away from Diya. “I checked every organ, every vessel in her body. No ailment prevents her from waking. Physically, she is in perfect condition.”

Disappointment, brittle and volatile, tore through Sorn’s features.

“Thank the tombs you came. I don’t know what I would have done without even more useless information!

” With a low oath, he shoved his chair back and stood.

“Get out, all of you. You failed to uphold your end of the bargain. Leave the premises before I allow my khawaga to finish you off.”

I rose, tongue heavy with insults ready for launch. Before I could utter any of them, a quiet voice spoke over us.

“Perhaps I can try.”

Maia stepped forward, trembling hands knotted in her tunic. “If it is not a physical malady, the cause of her ailment might be a different kind of blockage.”

“Mental, you mean?” asked Namsa.

Maia nodded. “By your leave, Your Highness.”

“You want to use your magic to rummage around her mind ? Absolutely not.”

I thought fast. Our opportunity to win Orban was slipping out of reach with each passing second.

“It could be the reason, Sorn. The elixir we drank in the third trial was intended to draw us into an illusion. Soraya’s poison used magic to redirect the illusion, but since Diya doesn’t have magic, she couldn’t follow. She might have gotten lost.”

Sorn swallowed. “So if she’s lost—if she is wandering around her own mind, this girl can pull her out?”

An excellent question, and one I hadn’t stopped to consider. The only time I’d known Maia to use her magic was to sever my consciousness before I hurt Efra on the cliffside.

“She is our executioner,” Efra said. At Sorn’s recoil, he added, “Not that her power is limited to executions, of course.”

If Efra opened his mouth one more time, I would pull his lower lip over his head and kick him through the nearest window. Why would he lie? Maia, the Urabi’s executioner. Imagine! Baira’s blessed bones, it was a wonder Sorn hadn’t burst into laughter.

Maia lifted her chin. “My magic allows me to enter a mind and expose its deepest, most closely held fears and secrets. I can alter its reality and convince the mind that it has died. The body usually follows soon after. My magic kills bloodlessly and mercifully. It is truly one of life’s foremost marvels, the unknown powers our minds wield over our bodies. ”

“Marvels,” Sorn said, a bit dumbly.

I didn’t bother to hide my open shock. She was a lahwa. There hadn’t been a lahwa in two hundred years, and nobody had been too sad to see the rare magic die out.

The Urabi and Mufsids must have devoted every resource to chase Maia down when they found out she existed.

Not only could a lahwa read thoughts, but if she wished, she could read every thought I had ever had.

Twist and reshape them to fit her goals, restructure the inside of my head like a bored parent moving furniture around the house.

I licked suddenly dry lips. I had too many secrets to have a lahwa around. How many other times had she used her magic on me?

“I never use my magic unless I am under strict orders.”

I glanced at Maia sharply. Had she read my thoughts or just my face?

The girl’s gently resigned sorrow almost did away with my repulsion. Almost. But her type of power had been reviled even before the other kingdoms lost their magic.

“Fine.” Sorn sounded like he’d ingested a hive of wasps. “Do it. But if you hurt her—”

“I will do the Champion no harm.”

Maia took Lateef’s place by the bed. Her uncertainty disappeared, and the delicate finger she placed between Diya’s brows remained steady. She was confident with her magic, I realized. Assured.

Maia’s gaze tunneled, going distant as gold and silver swirled in her eyes. Sorn blinked at the sight, thrown, and I wondered when he had last seen Jasadi magic on full display.

“She is alone in a cemetery,” Maia murmured. “Carving a name into a wooden headstone. L. U. B. N. A.”

“Lubna,” Sorn said, hoarse. “Her little sister. Awaleen below, you’re in her head.”

Suddenly, Maia winced. “She is murdering her parents. Quite enthusiastically.”

Sorn grinned. “That’s my girl.”

“She cut them into pieces for selling her sister to the khawaga,” I explained to Namsa. The older woman watched Maia with concern.

“She is set to be hanged. A rope is being put around her neck and tightened.” The colors in Maia’s blank eyes swirled faster. “The Orban Heir is ascending the hangman’s platform.”

“She slaughtered several of my khawaga before they caught her,” Sorn said proudly.

“The audience for her execution was substantial, so my father ordered me to see the task done right. But I hadn’t expected a woman the size of a thimble to have felled some of my best men.

Something about her… the wrath in her eyes… I respected it. I understood it.”

“The Orban Heir orders the rope removed. ‘There will be no hanging today.’ The crowd is in an uproar.” Maia tilted her head. “She keeps replaying this moment. The rope loosening. The Heir reaching for her arm. The crowd shouting. Over and over.”

Maia jolted. “Sweet Sirauk, she’s looking right at me.”

“Who are you?”

We all jumped at the growled words. They had come from Diya, though her body remained unmoving and her eyes closed.

“Your Heir sent me to heal you. A poisoned elixir twisted your mind into itself. It appears it forced you to relive your worst moments on repeat.”

“These aren’t my worst moments.” Again, her lips moved while the rest of her remained still.

“I see.” Maia’s brows furrowed. Reassessing the scene. “Ah.” Maia shifted uncomfortably. “She felt an intense animosity for the Heir on the platform. She plotted to kill him as soon as they left.”

Sorn continued to grin like a lunatic.

“But he was… charming. Understanding. He sentenced the khawaga who killed her sister to death and pestered his father into changing the law so a guardian responsible for selling off a child would face the Garha.”

The Garha? I racked my memory for the term.

Sorn spared me the effort. “Butcher shop for those accused of treason. We skin them alive and send the hides back to their families. Then they’re dismembered and hung on hooks through the main road.

The dogs eat the parts they can reach, and the rest rots in the sun. ”

Arin’s wry voice. You should see what Orban does to traitors.

Maia continued, unaware of our conversation.

“He makes her feel capable. Strong. She trains with his khawaga and bests them all. He gives her a place in the palace. But his attentions are always friendly. Like a ‘proud owner of a prize warhorse,’” Maia recited.

“She wonders why his attraction encompasses so many women, but not her.”

Sorn flinched as if struck. “What?”

“But she is lowborn, and the hardships of her life have eroded any beauty she may have possessed. She determines her feelings for the Heir are best kept private, where they will not embarrass or burden him.”

“That’s—why didn’t she say —” Sorn spluttered.

I sat down and propped my chin on my fist, wildly entertained.

“We’re in the third trial,” Maia whispered. “They are handing her and Sylvia the elixir.”

I blinked at the name. But Maia was reciting Diya’s thoughts, and the other Champion knew me as Sylvia.

Maia quieted. “What’s going on?” Sorn demanded. “What happened?”

The gold and silver drained from Maia’s eyes seconds before they rolled to the back of her head. She collapsed, landing on the rug in a heap. Namsa and Lateef rushed to her.

Sorn swung to me. “Did it work? The incompetence of you lot is galling!”

“The effort of sieving through your Champion’s mind will leave her fatigued for weeks ,” Namsa hissed. “Have some gratitude.”

“Gratitude? I’ll be grateful when one of you bumbling, magic-addled buffoons wakes my Champion !”

“Would you all shut up?” Diya snarled. “My head hurts.”

The sight of five heads snapping to look at the bed was almost comical. Sorn’s anger dissolved. Joy crept over his face like a rising sun. “Diya? Are you—are you yourself?”

She glared. “What kind of idiot question is that? Who else would I be?”

I cackled. “She’s fine.”

When she glanced in my direction, I casually blew her a kiss. “I figured the reigning Victor of the Alcalah should pay the sick a visit.”

“Damned Alcalah. Blast it to the tombs.” A scowl stole over her. “I would have won if you hadn’t cheated.”

“Jealousy can be so ugly.”

“Like your face.”

I patted her covered foot. “I look forward to when you’re in full health and have recovered your wit. It was never much to begin with, but this is just embarrassing.”

“My liege,” Diya said to Sorn, serious. “Can you pass me that sword?”

But Sorn didn’t appear to be listening to either of us. He was simply watching Diya.

Diya sat up, eyeing him. “What did he offer to have you fix me? I imagine it has to do with why you’re in a giant, garish, blood-spattered dress.”

I plucked at some of the bigger bloodstains. “Orban promised to reopen and protect the trade routes.”

“What?” Diya rubbed her forehead. “Orban hasn’t closed the trade routes in fifty years. What happened?”

My palm warmed, and a glass of water appeared in my hand. I handed it to Diya. She took in the gold and silver swirling in my eyes and sighed.

“A Jasadi. I should have figured. You were entirely too foolish to have survived until the third trial.” She drained the glass. “Good luck with the war. You’ll need it.”

“Diya.” The name fell from Sorn like the plea of a sinner seeking benediction, pained and half-whispered. “Diya, why didn’t you tell me how you felt?”

The Orban Champion squinted at Sorn. “Felt about what? My lord, have you taken ill?”

I groaned. Perhaps she and Sorn were well-suited after all.

“Sorn.” I waved a hand in front of his face. I never thought I would miss the mountains, but I only had twelve days left to enjoy warm baths and soft beds. I didn’t want to waste any more of them. “You won’t forget our agreement or bend to pressure from Nizahl.”

He turned his chin briefly, meeting my impatient gaze with an irate one of his own. “I already promised. You’ve gotten what you wanted—now go. The khawaga won’t trouble you.”

Namsa lifted Maia, carrying her weight without trouble. She frowned at the Orbanian pair, following Efra and Lateef to the door.

Sorn took Diya’s hand between both of his. She glanced at me with a bemused shake of her head, and I tossed her a quick smile.

For both their sakes, I hoped Sorn was careful with Diya’s heart. If he toyed with it, she’d gut him and any woman within arm’s length. Awaleen help the fool who interfered.

With a rueful laugh, I closed the door behind me.