Page 83 of The Jasad Crown

There was nothing I loved more in this life than being proven right.

Drops of water pelted us from the roaring waterfall. Soaking wet and standing knee-deep at the westernmost part of Hirun River, I allowed vindication to warm me through my damp clothes. “Iknewthis was how you were all moving in and out of the mountains!”

Lateef’s brow furrowed. “When were you down here?”

“When she tried to escape,” Efra said.

“When Efra decided to watch me drown instead of calling for help,” I said at the same time. The current gently tugged at my legs as it tipped over the edge of the opening, joining the streams cascading toward Suhna Sea.

“When the Sareekh rescued her,” Maia piped in, avoiding the glares Efra and I shot her.

The waterfall gushed behind us, a powerful deluge curtaining us off from the steep drop into the sea. Ahead, the river snaked beneath the mountain, rising higher the farther it traveled. In a mile or so, our supply of air would probably narrow to a couple of inches above our heads.

If legends were true about Hirun running beneath the Desert Flats, was the other part of the story true? Had hiding Hirun been Rovial’s punishment for Dania’s strike against his kingdom? The Orbanians would always be in drought, always be reliant on creeksand streams, because the river that nourished the rest of the land had been hidden from them.

“Do you use a boat?” I asked, glancing around. “Or does one of you know how to help the rest of us breathe underwater?”

One of the Urabi I hadn’t interacted with much sloshed forward and cleared her throat. The river rippled around her, six long shapes rising to the surface.

“About that,” Kenzie said.

“Stop shouting!” Maia pleaded. “Efra, can’t you calm her down?”

Efra shuddered. “I told you—I will not use my magic on her. I nearly let her beat me to death on the cliffside rather than have my magic collide with the toxic vat of power roiling around inside her.”

“Letme,” I hissed. “A moth with its wings tied back could beat you to death.”

“She’s hysterical. I will handle it,” Medhat announced, and lifted his hand to presumably strike me.

Two seconds later, he wheezed, grabbing at the throat I’d just punched.

“Essiya!” Namsa grabbed my elbows. I put up a token struggle, but truthfully, my hollering had turned to shrieking curses a while ago, and I didn’t particularly wish to strike Namsa in the throat. “It won’t hurt you. Kenzie can control beasts of the river—it is why we brought her with us, despite her abysmal fighting skills.”

Kenzie gasped. “I’ll fight you right now, Namsa!”

Namsa’s eyes, so very like Dawoud’s, bored into mine. “Breathe. Collect yourself. We would never put you in a position to be harmed.”

The frenzy drained slowly, leaving me loose-limbed and embarrassed. I didn’t shake Namsa’s grip off right away. “She’s never lost control of them?”

“Never.”

Kenzie nodded. She crossed spindle-thin arms over her chest, drawing herself tall. “I will have you know I was the premiere Rivertamer in my—”

I spoke over her. “And her magic will last until we reach the Omal palace?”

An outraged huff from Kenzie, but Namsa nodded. “She has been saving up her magic for weeks, so she’s brimming with it.”

It would have to do. I finally shook Namsa off and retreated, bracing myself before I glanced down.

Slitted bulbous eyes peered up at me, attached to seven monstrous crocodiles twice the width of my body and three times its length. Rows of hard scales studded their backs, cresting over the menacing lash of their tails. Spiky ridges ran in parallel lines between the gray and brown tiles of their tough skin. I tried not to wince at the teeth protruding from their closed jaws, too long for the confines of their snouts.

I exhaled, reaching into my coat to palm Binyar’s journal. The critical piece of this journey, the evidence the Urabi had hinged their hopes on.

“We will reach Omal in three days. The palace in five,” Efra said. I bristled at his snide tone, wishing I hadn’t left my little kitmers hopping along the cliffside. “Unless you’d like to spend weeks stomping around Essam Woods, that is.”

We didn’t have weeks to spare. Even if we did, we were sharing Essam with Arin. Sooner or later, he would find me. He always did.

He told me he would come for me as soon as I left the mountains, and I believed him. It hadn’t even surprised me to learn he’d known where I was. Arin was methodical, slicing apart a problem the way Rory opened a frog beneath his knife. He had spent years searching for the Urabi and Mufsids across the kingdoms, across the woods. There was only one option left.

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