“You disappoint me, sister.” Efiya’s voice is howling wind. “I thought you wiser than to run away to be with a boy, but I see that you’re no different from the others. You are all such emotional creatures. Although, I do admit he was very delicious—the taste of his skin is inspiring and the things he can do with his—”
“Shut up!” I roar like a cornered animal ready to leap. The whispers are quiet, but their magic pools in my fingertips, lurking in my veins. They’ve waited for their moment of revenge. I want to give it to them. I want revenge too. “You are nothing, Efiya. You’re less than nothing.”
She tilts her head to the side, considering me, her smile turning into a scowl.
“The only reason you’re alive is to free our mother’s master,” I say. “Do you know how pathetic that is?”
She blinks against the rain. Her hair is slick and falls in tangles. I see a bit of the little girl she’d been only months ago, her eyes shining with the curiosity and wonderment of a child. The little girl who tried to take away my pain one moment and crippled me with her magic the next.
“The chieftains’ magic has made you bold.” She brushes off my insults.
I say nothing, and the wind pushes us a step closer.
She laughs, glancing me over. “I should’ve known they would bind themselves to you—use you to hide from me, because I can’t see your mind. That was very clever of them, but it won’t work. I will have what belongs to me.”
A pang tears through my belly as Grandmother’s face flashes in my head. Her white braids had cascaded down her shoulders as we sat cross-legged in her tent. She’d seen Efiya for what she was even then—a green-eyed serpent, a demon. Still she couldn’t do anything to stop her. None of us could. My sister is too strong.
The magic roaring inside me now is my grandmother’s last act of defiance. For she and the other chieftains knew my sister would come for them. Grandmother foresaw it in a vision. I don’t have to ask to know what happened to the kas of the rest of the witchdoctors. Efiya must have eaten them to grow more powerful.
“You’re nothing but a disease,” I say as I call down the wind.
I barrel into Efiya and we fall and fall and fall. The ground races up to meet us. We are a mess of tangled arms and legs, both kicking and screaming. As Efiya tries to enter the void—the space between time—I grab her wrist, my touch like a pit of writhing vipers that sink fangs into her. She yelps, flustered for the first time ever, but I can’t hold her. She wrenches out of my grasp and disappears.
When I hit the ground, my world shatters into a thousand pieces.
Thirty-Six
I climb from the cracked ground beneath my feet. I cannot undo what’s done. I cannot look at Rudjek as I stalk over to the tent and change into dry clothes. Even though I sit close to the fire, a deep chill takes hold of me and won’t let go. He goes to the stream to wash twice, but Efiya’s saccharine scent lingers on him like a dog’s marked territory. The rest of the night is long and insufferable, and I lose track of time waiting for daybreak.
“Arrah, I’m sorry,” he says for the hundredth time. “I didn’t know.”
“You’ve said that already,” I groan, staring into the fire.
“Will you at least talk to me?” His deep timbre cracks on every other word.
“Can you give me some space?” I huff, exasperated. “I have a lot to think about.”
And it’s true. I need to forget about what happened between Efiya and him and focus on the fact that I hurt my sister tonight. The moment before she entered the void, my gifted magic tore through her and she fled from it. I tried to kill my sister the same way I burned Merka, but the magic’s effect on her paled in comparison to what it did to him. He was only a demon. Efiya is both demon and Heka—much stronger. But tonight gives me hope. If I’m able to hurt her with just the chieftains’ magic, then when I have the Demon King’s dagger, I can end her.
As much as I try to keep my mind on the task at hand, my heart burns with jealousy.
I picture Efiya wrapped in Rudjek’s arms.
My sister has everything: magic, my mother’s love, and now Rudjek. I’ve longed for magic my whole life, prayed to Heka for it. She was born overflowing with it while I traded my years for scraps. I tried to earn my mother’s love—while Efiya does nothing but rebel and our mother still hasn’t given up on her. Now that I know Arti’s history, I realize that nothing I could’ve ever done would have changed her. She loves me in her own tortured way. But even under normal circumstances, that love wouldn’t have been enough for me.
And Rudjek. Twenty-gods.
He paces back and forth. I hate the way he’s looking at me, his face riddled with regret and pain. It’s so easy to place the blame on Efiya, but he should’ve known she wasn’t me. How much time have we spent together? The lazy afternoons prattling on about whatever silly thing crossed our minds. Something about Efiya—however small—should’ve made him realize. How could he be such a fool?
My ears perk up when the air shifts and blades of grass rustle in the field. Rudjek stops pacing and reaches for his shotels. Soft footfalls grow closer—the sound so subtle that I almost miss it. I come to my feet with the staff in my hand. Magic tingles beneath my skin. I’m ready too.
Rudjek stomps out the fire and we crouch in the high grass. There’s movement in the forest to the east. My heart leaps against my ribs. We’ve seen no signs of my sister’s army, but they will come soon. There’s magic wafting on the wind.
“I don’t see how no one in that dank town had a few horses to spare,” says a voice that’s high-pitched and bratty. It’s Majka and I don’t think I’ve ever been gladder to hear him whining about something as I am now. I sigh, tension easing from my chest.
Essnai steps into the clearing, the moonlight reflecting against a yellow swipe of paint from her forehead to the bridge of her nose. Sukar is on her heels, his tattoos shimmering with the faintest light. Kira trails behind him. I don’t know how they’ve come to be here, but I’m thankful to see our friends.
“We shouldn’t have run down our mares in the first place,” Kira grumbles.
“They offered donkeys.” Sukar shrugs. “You turned them down, Majka.”
“Did you see those donkeys?” Majka waves his arm. “They looked half-dead already.”
“You four are as noisy as a pack of hyenas,” I say, straightening myself up.
Kira clutches two daggers, poised to strike before her sharp eyes land on us, then relaxes.
Essnai clucks her tongue. “Still always wandering off, I see.”
“Twenty-gods.” Majka grins upon seeing Rudjek. “It’s true, you’re alive.”
Rudjek rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve seen better days.”
“So I’ve heard.” Majka clasps his friend’s shoulder. “By the way, your aunt dismissed us from the gendars because of your stunt. I’m itching to kick your butt for it.”
Rudjek winks at his friend. “Get in line.”
Sukar greets me with a hand to his brow and a slight bow. I return the gesture. “Did you think you could sneak out without us?” he asks. “You know I can never turn down the chance for a good fight.”