Page 65 of The Jasad Crown

He knew who this memory belonged to.

Seated beside Niyar and Palia, dark eyes dancing as she watched Emre read, was Niphran. The first Heir of Jasad, and Sylvia’s mother.

After a moment or two, Emre glanced up. Arin watched as Niphran arched a brow at the skittish Omal Heir, who managed to look spellbound and nauseous at the same time.

See?Waid said.Your patience will be rewarded.

The visions were coming faster. The Mufsid’s magic was waning.

My magic is only partially at fault, Waid muttered.Not all the bones have stories. Some of them just like to scream.

Footsteps pounded down the hall. Arin barely had a second to step aside before Niphran barreled past him, an older man close at her heels.

It took Arin a second to place him. The last time he had seen the man pursuing Niphran, Arin had ordered five of his most trusted fifth-year recruits to transport his body to Jasad for burial. The time before that, Essiya had been carrying his corpse out of Dar al Mansi and handed him to Jeru as her third trophy.

She’d wept for the first time that night.

“Niphran, stop!” Dawoud panted. “This is childish.”

“Stay away! I won’t let you touch her.” Niphran spun around, and Arin caged his breath.

The child in Niphran’s arms giggled at Dawoud, seemingly delighted with their game. Black curls bounced around her round face. “Go, Mama, go!”

Dawoud raised placating hands as he approached Niphran. “The Malik and Malika merely want the second Heir to join them for supper. No harm will come to her. I promise you.”

Sweat dripped from Niphran’s forehead. Fear had stripped away the carefree confidence of the woman in the last vision, leaving a pale and shaking parent in its stead. “I know what they want to do to her.”

Dawoud glanced around them, lips pursed in disapproval. “They would never harm an Heir of Jasad.”

Kicking her feet, Essiya tugged at her mother’s earlobe. “Mamaaaaaa.”

“They didn’t even want her, Dawoud. She links them to Omal permanently. Her existence obliterates their bargaining power.”

Dawoud’s brows knit together. “Omal disinherited her.”

“Only after my father offered them three percent more magic from our stores, and because Emre’s fool parents still don’t understand how powerful she is,” Niphran whispered, and the terror in her voice shredded through to Arin’s core.

“Are you willing to stand there and swear that Niyar and Palia would never think to mine a magic as potent as hers? That in a time of crisis, they would not turn to the readily available resource living under their roof?”

Dawoud hesitated. When Niphran took off in a sprint, Essiya’s gleeful squeals ringing behind her, he did not give chase.

A bearded man crouched over a sleeping Essiya, holding a cuff.

“Are you certain, Mawlati? Once I place these on the child, nothing and nobody can access her magic—including her.” The man ran his thumb over the etchings on the cuffs. Letters Arin had memorized front and back. “They may never come off.”

Niphran’s gaze didn’t waver from her daughter. “Put them on.”

She was more cunning than the stories gave her credit for, Waid said.Soraya and Hanim invested a small fortune in poison to keep the first Jasad Heir docile.

Poison?

The first cuff closed around Essiya’s wrist. The bearded welder’s eyes swirled gold and silver as the seams of the cuff sealed together. The etchings shined a brilliant white before the cuffs thinned, melding into Essiya’s wrist like a second skin.

As soon as the second cuff had sealed, Niphran withdrew a dagger from her boot and slit the welder’s throat.

His body thumped to Arin’s right. Niphran stepped over him and crawled into bed with her daughter, drawing her into her arms.

As I said.Waid chuckled.Savage little creature.

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