Page 15 of The Jasad Crown

Rovial’s tainted tomb, what if someone wanted to have a conversation?

Longing for Marek and Sefa weakened my knees. For five years, they had been my safe landing. They had offered a space where I could rest my bones and breathe, and it took me far too long to appreciate how rare a thing it was to simplybe.

I could still scarcely comprehend how quickly everything had changed. It felt like minutes had passed since I danced at the Victor’s Ball, not six days.

Maia appeared at my side. She had gathered her formidably long hair into a ponytail. “Mawlati, would you like to join me outside to finish our supper?” She held a large plate, bouncing from foot to foot. At my suspicious squint, she tipped her head in the direction of the observers. “Where we can perhaps enjoy a bit of solitude?”

“Yes,” I said, too quickly. I followed her through a narrow doorway carved into the right side of the dining hall. As soon as we ducked through the opening, a wave of noise hit our backs.

I snorted. At least they waited until I left before unleashing the gossip.

I kept pace with Maia easily, eyeing the uneven stone beneath our feet. “How are we going outside? I thought we were inside a mountain.”

“We are. There are passageways here that open into Essam Woods. But we also have an outdoor area for trainings and celebrations behind the mountain.”

The mountain had passages into Essam Woods. The temptation hiked again, a battering ram at my feet urging them to leave this place and find Sefa and Marek. I weathered the hits, wincing, until they faded. It wouldn’t be the last time the urge to escape swept me, but I had no intention of indulging it unless the Urabi left me no choice.

Still, I made note of the information. Maia shouldn’t have shared it with me.

We rounded the corner, and the ground grew even bumpier. “Couldn’t someone on the other side see us?”

The passage ended at a solid iron door, nearly invisible in the gloom. The familiarity of its design caught me off guard. I had seen the same plaited pattern on the doors in the underground complex where I’d trained for the Alcalah.

Maia pressed her hand to the metal and murmured under her breath. A silver-and-gold glow lit the outline of the door, identical to the colors swirling inside Maia’s eyes.

I watched her longer than I should have. It would take a while before the sight of magic stopped slamming terror into my bones. I had not knowingly encountered Jasadis while living in Mahair; the last person who had openly used magic around me was a Mufsid. Even my own magic had been hidden from me, suppressed by my cuffs. Learning how to draw it out had been a battle. The Urabi exercised their magic casually, with as much forethought as they probably gave to breathing, and I couldn’t help but be a little envious.

Maia kicked the door, sending it creaking open.

“After you, Mawlati.”

As a rule, I preferred not to be the first to walk through an unknown entrance. Fortunately for Maia, her bouncing was giving me a headache. Any threat on the other side of the door couldn’t be more frustrating than watching her roll from her heel to her toe again and again.

The smell slapped me as soon as I stepped outside. Salt and fresh rain.

Wind stung my cheeks. I cradled my plate to my chest, shielding it with an arm. Endless skies moved in shifting colors above us. Heavy clouds hung close enough to touch, swirling like warm breath exhaled on a winter day. Streaks of red and orange seared the horizon, glimmering across the rippling surface of the—

No. It couldn’t be.

Pebbles rolled beneath my feet as I lurched forward, my embarrassing gasp stolen out of my mouth by the wind.

“Careful, Mawlati,” Maia murmured, but I ignored her.

The breeze raked freezing fingers through my hair, whipping it away from my neck. My feet carried me to the edge of the cliff, determined to confirm what my mind refused to believe.

Over the side raged the sea of a hundred names; the sea few had dared cross the mountains to explore and fewer still had survived the journey.

I couldn’t believe it. It had been a century since anyone had laid eyes on the sea beyond the mountains. Even when every kingdom had had its magic, it was widely considered an act of lunacy to undertake the journey to Suhna Sea. Why bother, when you could access it through any of the wilayahs in southern Jasad? The lower wilayahs generated half their income from those visitors. Pay a fee to pass through the Jasad fortress and visit the sea, or potentially go through the mountains and pay with your life.

Blue stretched as far as the eye could see. Waves dappled in the receding orange of the setting sun crashed against the side of the mountain, spraying foam dozens of feet into the air. An ancient force colliding against an ancient fixture in a rhythm as old as time itself.

“No one can see us here but the skies and the sea,” Maia said. I jerked, nearly upending my plate over the cliff. What kind of shoes did this girl have that she moved without making a single sound?

Oblivious, Maia continued, “I like to come out here at night. Namsa thinks it’s dangerous, but the stars are always bright enough to see the edge. We practice the children’s magic over there. It looks like a hole, but the dark space is a flat canyon between our mountain and the next one.”

I barely heard her. My fingers had gone cold and numb around the plate.

I was in the mountains. Miles and miles away from everything and everyone I knew.

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