That wasn’t true. This man was no handsome prince or hero. Mother would find him and take care of him. He wasn't following the unspoken rules.
“I told you to be silent!” He rushed forward and shoved her out the window. Shadow opened her mouth to scream, but her breath whooshed from her lungs as she landed on something soft. It billowed around her like an enormous sheet, giving her no traction or firm surface to push against. She rolled and flailed as she tried to right herself.
A heavy weight dipped the surface next to her and a rough hand seized her arm, pulling it behind her, first one then the other. Rough rope tightened around her wrists and her kidnapper hauled her upright. The surface solidified. A carpet. A carpet floating in the air.
She hardly had time to register that when it took off at some unspoken command, faster than a horse could run.
The world changed under her. Green fields. Big gatherings of stone buildings. Blue oceans. Then golden sand. Everywhere. It formed tall rolling hills and flat expanses. Tall, four-legged creatures with two humps on their backs trailed one another in a line.
The sun seemed closer here. Hotter. More blinding, making her squint. The air so hot the inside of her nose ached. Shadow's new dress and nightgown clung to her sweaty body. Her tongue withered in her mouth, and her stomach rumbled.
There weren’t even clouds here. Just a blue sky baking her like bread.
This wasn’t the fun kidnapping she was used to, but this was definitely the farthest she’d ever been from home. She’d win the contest between the sisters, for sure. The man wasn’t nice, exactly, but he hadn’t hurt her, and though the heat was unpleasant, curiosity distracted her from some of her misery.
Ahead of them, a blue dot broke the monotony of sand. Water? The thought of fresh water reminded her of her thirst, but all her requests had been ignored so far. As they approached the blue dot, it grew into a pond, then a lake with a city around it. Her new kidnapper picked up some strands of her hair. “Your looks will attract too much attention, but I think the king will like the novelty.”
Shadow jerked her head, but couldn’t move far enough away to be free of his touch. He dismissed her pointless efforts and rummaged inside his satchel, bringing out some dark material. He gathered her wind-blown hair and shoved it down the back of her dress, then draped the fabric from his bag around her head, covering her nose, mouth, forehead, and the rest of her hair.
He guided the flying carpet down to the ground and pushed her off. The carpet folded itself into a square that her kidnapper slid into a satchel. Keeping his grip on her wrists, bound behind her, he forced Shadow to walk along hard packed sand into the town. “Don’t bother talking. No one here will speak your language, and even if they could, you won’t find any help here.”
He spoke to several robed men as they passed, in a language she didn’t recognize, entered an inn and climbed some stairs that led to a hallway with wooden doors on each side. Two towering men, also with bushy beards and armed with thick curved swords, stood outside one door.
Her kidnapper pushed her in their direction and spoke a few words to them. After a few more indecipherable words from him, they opened the door. Her kidnapper untied her wrists, shoved her into the small room, and slammed the door behind her.
Two women sat on a bed. Sisters. Although the one on the right was a few years older, they shared the same copper skin tone and long black hair tangled in snarled messes. They wore filthy, shapeless robes. Red-rimmed brown eyes and tracks down dirty faces said they weren’t having any more fun than she was.
Shadow didn’t blame them. She felt like crying, too. The knowledge that her mother would come for her gave her hope, though, where these girls didn’t look like they had any.
With one hand pressed to her chest, Shadow stepped forward. “Shadow.” She pointed at them and spread her arms in question.
The older girl touched her sister’s shoulder. “Arnavaz.” She touched her chest. “Shahmaz.”
Her kidnapper and one guard entered the room. A few more men followed him in, carrying a metal tub, buckets of water, and a pile of rags. The guard barked at orders at Shadow.
She shrugged. “I don’t understand you.”
He drew his arm back and swung the back of his hand at her face.
Stunned, Shadow froze. No one had ever tried to hit her before.
When his hand neared, her mother’s magic flashed in an icy burst.
The man yelled and staggered back as air gushed out of Shadow in a relieved whoosh. The protection spell surprised her, but she should have known Mother wouldn’t let her daughters be in actual danger when they were kidnapped.
“Interesting.” Her kidnapper pushed away from the wall. He approached and slowly extended a single finger to poke at her arm. Nothing happened. “Aggression triggers some sort of shield. We’ll have to find out more about that.”
He picked up the pile of rags and shoved them at Shadow. He spoke to Shahmaz and Arnavaz, then to Shadow. “Bathe and get dressed. The king and I have plans for the three of you.” Her kidnapper barked something at the guard, who slapped one of the sisters.
She cried out and fell backward.
The kidnapper opened the door. “Disobey me and I will punish them when I return.”
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
JAEL
IN THE DAYS SINCE JAEL left to track Jamshid, Zahhak had devolved into a monster, even for a mage. He’d executed Jamshid by sawing the man in half. Even as an assassin, Jael had never killed someone with such cruelty. And the snakes on the king’s shoulders demanded the deaths of two people daily to feed them a stew made from their brains.
His promise to Jamshid gnawed at Jael. Tomorrow, the entire company would leave the oasis for Jamshid’s palace. It would be harder to get the sisters out safely there. He’d have to get them out of Zahhak’s hands tonight.
After searching the sprawling complex of the inn, he’d found the sisters’ room on the third floor, but a summons to appear before the king curtailed further escape plans for the moment.
Jael entered the makeshift throne room — the dining hall Zahhak and his personal entourage had taken over. The tables had been removed to provide room for the crowd. Perfumes, incense, sweat and the smell of meat cooking in the kitchen combined in a nauseating mix that made Jael glad he didn’t have to breathe. An army of hearts beat in fear making the wooden flooring creak as nervous people shifted from foot to foot.
Xenos sidled over and leaned against the stone wall, watching their surroundings through half-closed eyes. “So, that’s the new Snake Mage.”
“A third of him, anyway.”
“Ha. Ha. I’m going to put in a request for the next man turned to be funny. Maybe a sense of humor will finally make it through the change.”
Zahhak scanned the crowd, nodded to himself, and reclined in his plain, wooden chair like it was a throne. “Bring the girls.”
Guards left to go upstairs, returning a few moments later with Jamshid’s daughters dressed in gauzy green and blue scarves around their heads, faces, arms and breasts. Short skirts hung on their hips, and they lacked shoes. Soldiers pushed them to stand in front of the king. The women clung to one another’s hands.
Jael would have to find clothes and sandals for them to wear while they escaped.
Half the army filed into the room. Too many soldiers to fight during the day. If one of them caught his hood, even by accident, exposure to the sun would at least burn him, if not reduce him to ash. The women were frightened, but not harmed.
A wizened, stooped man in ceremonial robes moved through the crowd to stand next to the king. In a sham of a ceremony, Zahhak married both of Jamshid’s daughters without the need for any responses from them.
Wedding over. Zahhak clapped his hands twice. “Music!” When the musicians played, the king sneered at the sisters. “Dance for your husband, wives.” The women moved jerkily, their lack of enthusiasm clear, but Zahhak seemed to enjoy the spectacle all the more.
/> Jael’s fists twitched with the urge to draw his swords. But the Snake Mage belonged to Xenos when he was ready.
The song ended, Zahhak sent the sisters away, and guards led a line of prisoners into the room. People who had dared stand against Zahhak’s invading army or committed some imagined offense.
Zahhak removed his outer tunic to bare his shoulders. The snake heads emerged, tongues flicking, as they examined the offerings, settling on two young men. They were hardly more than boys. “Prepare them.”
The prisoners were led away — some back to the dungeon, the two boys to the kitchen as they struggled and screamed.
Xenos tilted his head and slipped out of the room. “Come on. We need to help them get away.”
“Get away?” Jael followed his friend through the wooden hallways of the inn. “How much longer do you need to kill his minions before we can try the poison?”
“I think I need one more night. Could have finished last night, but I found two of the cooks helping prisoners escape. They’re freeing the ones Zahhak’s snakes want and feeding the snakes brains from actual condemned criminals instead. I killed the minions who were trying to stop them, but it took more time than I liked. I want to make sure the boys get out and see the route in case we need it for Jamshid’s daughters.”
Jael and Xenos entered the kitchen. The two boys huddled together on the floor in a corner. A short, fat man crouched in front of them while a skinny one stirred a big pot over a fire.
“You must go!” The man in front of the boys held out his hand to them. “There’s not much time. Hurry.”
The bigger boy wrapped himself around the smaller one. “But we can’t leave. Our father will be worried about us. He’ll think we’re dead!”
“He has to think that right now. If there is any suspicion you’re not, the entire network will be in jeopardy. Do you want the deaths of all the people meant to be devoured by the snakes in the future on your heads?”
The boys hung their heads. “No.”
“Who is your father?”
“Kaveh. He's the blacksmith.”
“We’ll try to get word to him, all right? That’s the best we can do right now. It won’t be long before you can return though.” He put a hand on each of their shoulders. “You’ll be able to reunite with your father after Zahhak is deposed.”
The short man glanced over his shoulder at Xenos. “You remember where to take them?”
Xenos nodded.
“Good.” The cook turned back to the boys. “Every second you delay increases the chances you ruin it for everyone.”
The boys ran off, the scuffing of their feet fading. Xenos followed.
Jael listened for heartbeats, but he was alone with the cooks. He leaned against the counter. “Can you get two more out tonight?”
A MUFFLED SCREAM CAME from the women’s room. Too many heartbeats — all fast. One in terror, the others in anticipation. Jael balanced on the balcony rail and peered in through the slightly open shutters.
A man watched, leaning against a wall, stroking his long white-striped beard as six of Zahhak’s soldiers surrounded a woman — not one of the sisters — taking turns grabbing for her and yanking their hands away as some sort of protection spell flashed.
It was good she had the spell, whatever magic it was. The room was too small for her to escape the grasping hands. The bed and a small table took up most of the space.
She’d been dressed like the sisters, but her scarves were pink. The men left her head scarves alone, but pulled at the ones covering her chest and arms, while she spun and swiped at their hands.
During one of her spins, her wild, frightened gaze flew across the window, stopping to catch his.
How could she do that? With his hood up and in darkness, she shouldn’t be able to see his face. Her pale blue eyes met his and his non beating heart clenched, the unmoving muscle feeling like it petrified in his chest.
He had to find Jamshid’s daughters. Jael had made no promises to or about this woman. You can’t save everyone. Focus on what you can do.
But... he couldn’t leave her.
One of the woman’s attackers tangled his foot with hers, and she tumbled to the floor, breaking Jael’s stare into her eyes.
The men pounced.
The woman screamed, but hardly any sound escaped the room. He likely only heard it because of his enhanced senses. No help would come for her.
Dropping the bundle he carried to free his hands, Jael surged into the room. He kicked one man in the head, lifted a second by the neck like a kitten and tossed him across the room, and threw an arm up to block a punch, sending an elbow strike in return.
Beard spun around and scrabbled for the door latch. He escaped while Jael tangled with the other four attackers. Unsheathing his scimitars, he spun the blades in his hands. The sight of the swords froze the men as they realized who was in their midst.
They held up their hands, but to no avail. Jael’s presence in the room had to remain a secret. If word reached Zahhak that his favorite assassin was working against him, the advantage of staying near the Snake Mage would be lost. These men were clearly not exactly upstanding citizens of the world, either.
With the hilts, he bashed faces and heads, then made his killing blows broken necks rather than slash or stab wounds. The last man fell, and Jael knelt next to the woman.
Unable to see through the twisted material, she lashed out when Jael touched her shoulder. He snatched his hand away when the magic on her sent ice through his fingers. “It’s all right. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
She sat up, reaching to straighten the scarves around her face. All he could see were pale skin and long silver-blonde hair spilling from under the head scarf. He’d never seen hair that shade before. He stopped short of touching her again, but just barely.
A memory of his dead wife flitted through his mind, accompanied by regret and guilt. The Jackal Mage’s army had murdered her. He hadn’t been able to save Faba, nor, in spite of the years of their marriage, had she ever captivated him like this blue-eyed woman.
When she fixed her scarves, she tilted her face up. Fear in her eyes changed to something he couldn’t identify before she threw herself into his arms and shook.
He embraced her without conscious thought. Like he’d always done it. Why wouldn’t his heart beat? “I have you now. You’re safe.”
When she pulled away and stared up at him with those blue eyes of hers again, he felt himself getting lost in them. He held a hand to his chest. “Jael.”
“Jael?” If his heart beat, the sound of her voice would send it pounding.
Tapping himself again, he repeated, “Jael.”
She touched her chest. “Varjo.”
He tried to twist his tongue around the foreign word. She laughed. Gods. His whole body hardened at that sound. Some parts more than others.
She lifted her hands and pointed to the wall. A shadow moved on its own, making deliberate movements independent of the light. She was a witch. He had to get her out of here before Haestratos siphoned her magic. The dark shape moved in short, sharp gestures, split in two, forming two hands, fingers extended to point at one another.
“You’re named for your magic?”
“Varjo.” She nodded.
He couldn’t manage the word. He pointed to the shadows, then to her. “Sululu.”
“Sululu.”
Jael caught himself staring at her mouth as she repeated the word. He was letting himself get distracted. She was out of danger at the moment, but the princesses might not be. “The other girls.” He pointed to her scarves and spread his arms. “Where are they?”
She shrugged, and lyrical words that meant nothing to him poured out of her. Seeing his incomprehension, she shook her head in frustration and closed her eyes. “Pa-la-ce. Pala-ce.” Speaking deliberately, she accented different syllables as she tried to say the word.
“Palace?”
Opening her eyes, she nodded quickly.
He was too late. Why had Zahhak sent them away? Well, it didn’t matter. Xenos wanted to go to the city anyway, and Jael had no plans.
Other than to free the woman in his arms.
Jael stood, helped Sululu to her feet and urged her to the window with a hand on the small of her back. He ducked out onto the balcony and picked up the bundle of clothes, shaking out a shapeless, hooded robe and offering it to her, along with some sandals.
She accepted clothes, covered herself, and tied the sandals on.
He led her onto the balcony, jumped to the rail, and held out a hand to her. She looked over the edge and eyed him like he was crazy, but climbed up next to him. Jael held her against him, feeling all her soft curves as he jumped the twenty feet to the ground. Setting her on her feet, he took her hand and towed her through the city at a run, weaving down alleys and small streets.
When he glanced back, her eyes sparkled like this was a grand adventure rather than a dash for her life.
Gods! Where was she from? Not only did she make him feel tongue-tied, even when he could speak, she didn’t understand anything he said. He closed her fingers around Echo’s token, pointed at her chest, then at The Sword and Mace, repeating the gesture several times. “Go!” He gave her a gentle push.
The inn at the oasis wasn’t as large as the one in the city, but there was an Echo almost everywhere. If anyone here had a chance of figuring out where his Sululu was from and getting her back there, it was Echo.
Sululu took a few steps, then turned around, those blue eyes of hers making his unbeating heart rip in half as part of it tried to go with her. Why wouldn’t the damned thing beat? Then he’d keep her by his side and never let her out of his sight again. If he ever had a second chance at happiness, he’d do whatever it took to protect her. Not even a mage would take anyone from him again.
Viktoria's Shadow: Jael Page 18