Amja shook her head and stepped toward Saxony, taking her hands in hers. “I’m not angry with you,” she said. “I’m angry with myself for refusing to listen.”
She stroked Saxony’s cheek.
“My dear child,” she said. “This is your path. Your judgment gave us an army of Crafters and Lieges who helped protect us in the forest. And your power, your fierceness, helped quell the tornado and the magic that tried to attack us.”
Saxony’s heart drummed fiercely against her chest, but she tried to stifle it, not daring to let her hopes get too high.
“Are you saying that you want me to be Liege?” Saxony asked.
She had to be certain.
She had to make sure she was hearing right.
Amja smiled, squeezing Saxony’s hands. “I’m saying that you already are. You have been acting as one since you arrived in the forest and I have stupidly been getting in the way of that.”
When Saxony breathed next, it was like all of the tension in her relaxed.
This felt right, like it had felt when she spun spells by Wesley’s side to take down that tornado. Becoming Liege was Malik’s destiny, and then they thought it was Zekia’s, but maybe it was nobody’s fate at all. Maybe it was something you had to earn, or something you discovered inside of yourself.
Maybe that was why their Kin had been cursed for so many years; they weren’t waiting for Zekia to fulfil her destiny. They were waiting for the right person to decide their destiny for themselves.
And Saxony had decided a long time ago that this was what she wanted. She just hadn’t expected everyone else to want it too.
* * *
THE WALLS of the garden trees cast shadows on the winter-dulled grass as they gathered their army in the large courtyard at the back of the estate. One hundred and fifty Crafters and nearly a hundred buskers all crowded around Saxony, Tavia, and Wesley.
They waited for the news.
It hadn’t been Saxony’s idea to round them up, but Wesley thought it would boost morale to let them know about her new position as Liege. The Crafters already trust you, he’d said. And the buskers know you well, so it could help to unite them.
“We’ve called you here to let you know about a change of leadership,” Saxony said. “I’ll be taking over as Liege of the Rishiyat Kin and will be in charge of overseeing all the Crafters in our army from now on.”
She waited for anyone to protest, but the Crafters seemed pleased by the decision, most looking like it hadn’t made much of an impact at all. As though Saxony was just confirming what they already knew and wanted.
“How does that affect us?” a busker called from the crowd. “Just another Crafter asserting her authority while we all get picked off one by one.”
“Nobody is getting picked off,” Saxony said.
“Says you!” he yelled. “The Crafters attacked us back in the forest and we lost some good people.”
“Good people is a bit of a stretch,” Lionus—the Liege from Gila who had attacked Tavia—said. “And let’s not forget that there were buskers in that raid too. None of you can be trusted to stay loyal.”
“Bite me,” the busker said.
The crowd around him cheered.
Saxony could feel their anger growing.
“We’ve lost so much more than any of the Crafters,” another busker chimed in. “Our underbosses were all slaughtered. If they’re electing new leaders, then we should too.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tavia muttered.
But the buskers didn’t look like they were backing down. They looked incensed.
“The other eight cities need leaders now more than ever,” he said. “And we’ve got some real good men here who can take the reins.”
“Did he just say men?” Tavia asked.
She looked at Saxony and Wesley in turn.
“I heard that, didn’t I? He said men.”
Saxony let out a sharp breath.
“No offense,” the busker said. “But the Kingpin is conquering Uskhanya while a woman is in charge, so that clearly shows—”
“If he finishes that sentence, can I kill him?” Tavia asked.
“No,” Saxony said, at the same time as Wesley said, “Sure.”
“Look,” Saxony said to them all. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m a Crafter and your business exploits my people. So let’s just focus on one problem at a time. The biggest one being, killing Ashwood.”
“Walcott,” another of the buskers said. “You’re on our side, aren’t you?”
“I’m on my side,” Wesley said. “Which is the winning side.”
“We need to be ready to fight the Crafters, not share a camp with them,” the busker said. “Tavia, surely you see it? You haven’t trusted Saxony from the start.”
Saxony felt like she had been slapped upon hearing those words. Sure, she and Tavia hadn’t been best pals these past few weeks, but that didn’t erase years of having each other’s backs.
Tavia’s nose wrinkled. “Don’t lump me into the same category as you. I might be a busker, but you and I aren’t the same.”
The busker scoffed. “You’re cozying up to them because you’re scared,” he said. “Creije’s best busker is a Crafter-lover now? After everything they’ve done to us?”
For the first time Saxony saw the bored expression lift from Wesley’s face. His back straightened.
Tavia took in a deep breath, like she was trying hard not to reach for her own knives. “I think I missed that last part,” she said. “Could you repeat it? Something about calling me a coward, which couldn’t be true unless you had a death wish.”
“Look,” the busker said. “I just think—”
Wesley tutted loudly from beside Tavia.
“Who told you that you could think?” he said.
He righted his suit, sleeves pulled down and cuff links perfectly perpendicular.
Wesley did many things well, but looking like he was about to kill someone without getting a speck of blood on himself was up there with the best.
“We’re not picking out underbosses and we’re done turning on each other,” Wesley said. “The Doyen will meet us here in a couple of days and if all goes well, then we’ll have her forces from Uskhanya’s armies to tag-team with. Their numbers, their weapons, our smarts and our magic. Once that happens, Ashwood is dead.”
Saxony looked at Wesley, and he stiffened like he could sense her gaze and thought maybe it was judgment.
It wasn’t. If anything, she was proud.
Wesley had changed from an underboss into a real leader.
“We’re a team now,” Saxony said, backing him up. “We need to stop thinking of ourselves as Crafters and buskers and start seeing ourselves as one force.”
“I’ll start braiding the friendship bracelets,” Wesley said.
“Good,” Saxony told him. “I like purple.”
Wesley smirked in place of laughing.
This was the feeling she had been craving: the feeling of being a team again. Wesley had a way of uniting people, but it wasn’t just that. Saxony had begun this mission to avenge her people and unite her family. With Wesley by her side, leading one army while she led another, Saxony was doing just that.
All that was missing was Karam. Saxony pushed down the pain that threatened to spill from her and out into the world. She tried to forget, for just a second, about the danger Karam and the others could be in, but it was getting harder every day.
“Does this make me the new future Kingpin?” Wesley asked. “Because the last time I went for that gig, I got kidnapped and tortured.”
“You’re not a Kingpin,” Saxony said. “You’re a true leader and you have a reputation they can trust.”
“My reputation is built on the fact that people can’t trust me.”
“I trust you,” Saxony told him.
Even Wesley, master of lies, couldn’t hide the surprise from his face at the thought of that.
Thing was, it was never tr
uly Wesley that Saxony didn’t trust, but the thing that lived inside of him. The demon she knew clawed at his mind for control. There were two sides to Wesley Thornton Walcott, and Saxony’s problem was that she never knew which side she was going to get. The uncertainty was what had always scared her, but times changed. Wesley wasn’t just an underboss, he was her brother, and he had earned her trust so many times over.
“Did we miss the meeting?” someone called from behind her.
Saxony’s lips parted at the familiar lilt of those words. She almost didn’t want to turn around, in case she was wrong and her mind was playing tricks on her, but she couldn’t help herself.
Please, Saxony thought. Many Gods, let it be true.
And when she finally turned, Saxony saw exactly what she’d wished for: Karam stood with Arjun by her side, alive.
“It was a little hard to find, but I do like the new house,” Karam said.
“Karam!”
Saxony’s heart almost broke free from her chest as she ran toward Karam. She didn’t want to waste a second and she didn’t care who was watching as she dove into her warrior’s arms.
All that mattered was Karam.
All that mattered was that she was finally back.
27
KARAM
Saxony stood like sunshine on top of a snow-coated mountain, her mouth parted perfectly in the shape of Karam’s name. The surprise on her face was like an explosion. Sudden and disarming. Saxony ran toward her and the force of her hug when they connected felt like a train.
“You’re alive!” she said.
“Not for long if you keep squeezing me like this,” Karam said.
Saxony dropped her arms to her sides, and then quickly raised them to Karam’s cheeks and kissed her.
“I thought you died.”
“She’s got more lives than any of us,” Tavia said, appearing by her side with a smile. “You know you’re bleeding, right? You look like crap.”
Karam had missed her eloquence, but she sacrificed a reply in favor of turning to glare at Wesley, who was inexplicably standing in front of her.
“You are supposed to be a prisoner.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said. “But I didn’t fancy being your damsel. I don’t need to be saved.”
“Your tune never changes does it, underboss?” Arjun asked. “You never need to be saved.”
Wesley shrugged. “I’m a lone wolf,” he said, and just about all of them turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.
“What happened in the forest?” Karam asked. “We came back and you were not there.”
“Ashwood found our camp,” Tavia said.
“Nolan?” Karam asked. “We were ambushed too.”
“Divide and conquer,” Wesley said. “It’s not a bad plan. How did you find us?”
“With this.”
Karam held up the ring and Saxony grinned.
“I knew you’d find your way back to me,” she said.
“Magical compass aside, what happened on the beach?” Tavia asked. “Where are the others? Where’s Asees?”
It was then that Karam became acutely aware that she’d been trying not to cry for days. That Arjun, standing like a warrior beside her, was taking slow and shaking breaths.
Saxony’s eyes narrowed, her frown deep as a knife wound.
“Everyone else get back inside and give us some privacy,” she called over her shoulder.
The rest of the army was still gathered around them with open ears and prying eyes. With a grumble, the strangers, those who were not family in the same way that the rest of them were, shuffled inside. Karam was thankful. She could not handle an audience at this moment.
Saxony looked between her and Arjun.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Our group was attacked by Ashwood’s men as soon as we reached Tisvgen,” Arjun said.
“I was being held there,” Wesley said. “They moved me from Creije a couple of days before I escaped. There were hardly any Crafters there, though. Just me, Zekia, and maybe a handful of others.”
“Which means that Nolan did tip Ashwood off,” Karam said. “There were so many of them on the beach by the time we arrived. Too many.”
She swallowed.
“Asees is dead,” she said, so Arjun wouldn’t have to.
Her voice was quiet, but not in an uncertain way. It was quiet in an angry, bitter way she hadn’t felt since her pehta died. Quiet in the same way the skies were as they changed color into a silent black, while the storm and the lightning and the hail brewed inside.
She was quiet in the same way death often was.
“Everyone is dead.”
Wesley’s eyes flickered. “Because you came for me.”
Karam pictured Asees’s broken body, bloody on the beach, and tried to keep herself from crumbling at the pain.
“It was not because of you,” Arjun said. “I know you think that the realms revolve around you, underboss. But this was the Kingpin, and I will not let you take Asees’s death from his hands. Or her justice from mine.”
Karam sucked in a breath.
Justice. She dismissed the notion. It was revenge they needed. Blood.
“I will take over as Liege of my Kin,” Arjun said.
His voice was too small for his stature.
There would be only a handful of his people left.
“Of course,” Saxony said. “I’m leading the Rishiyat Crafters now and will work with you to head up the magical army. I promise that we’ll make Ashwood pay.”
She placed a hand on Arjun’s broad shoulder.
“Are either of you injured?” Saxony asked. “Karam?”
By the spirits, the way that girl said her name made everything in Karam shake. Feel weak and strong at the same time. She wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Between the not-dying and the rowing between cities, it had been far too many days of not kissing Saxony.
But it was taking all of her strength not to cry and so she stayed focused on that instead.
“Do you two need to be healed?” Saxony asked again.
“I am fine,” Arjun said. He moved forward, hand on his sword. “And I am ready for battle.”
“Whoa there, soldier.”
Wesley pushed past Saxony and Tavia to place two firm hands on Arjun’s chest to hold him back.
“The war is taking a break right now,” Wesley said. “And so should you. I get wanting to smash everything, but you’re not going to be much use to anyone unless you get some rest.”
Arjun’s jaw shook.
Don’t cry, Karam thought selfishly. I couldn’t bear it if you cried again, Arjun.
“I’ll show you to a comfortable room and we can get you cleaned up,” Wesley said.
Those words were such a surprise to Karam that when Arjun accepted with a curt nod and the two walked back inside the estate, she could only blink in surprise.
Perhaps what Arjun needed wasn’t a friend who shared in his pain, but someone who could let him grieve alone.
“You need some rest too,” Saxony said, holding on tightly to Karam’s hand.
“Yeah,” Tavia said. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked like crap.”
Karam tried for a laugh, but she was aching too much, both inside and out.
“Actually, I need a moment to speak to Tavia alone,” Karam said.
“Tavia?” Saxony asked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Tavia said. “Me?”
Karam nodded. “It is important.”
“Okay,” Saxony said, though Karam could tell she was confused.
Karam wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in her arms and to tell her how much she had missed her, but Tavia needed to know about the vision Karam had seen first, and telling someone they were going to die required privacy.
“I’ll help Wesley take care of Arjun,” Saxony said. “We’ll fill you in on everything that’s happened later.”
She kissed Karam’s cheek softly and followed a
fter the others, until Karam was left alone with a baffled Tavia.
“I have to tell you something,” Karam said. “Arjun used an extraction on one of our attackers and it showed us a vision.”
She wasn’t sure how to phrase the next part with any kind of tact. So she simply looked at Tavia and said, “Zekia is going to kill you.”
Tavia took a moment to stare blankly and then swallowed and said, “Kill me? Are you sure?”
Karam nodded.
“When?”
She was taking it better than Karam had expected.
“I do not know,” Karam said. “We were on a bridge somewhere. I think it might have been in Creije.”
“What a homecoming,” Tavia said.
She bit her lip, as though she didn’t know what else to do.
“I am sorry,” Karam said.
What else could she say? She could promise to keep Tavia safe, but those words would sound so hollow right now.
“Don’t tell Wesley.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell him,” Tavia said again. “He thinks he can get through to Zekia and if he finds out about this, then he’ll stop trying. We can’t let him do that.”
“And he will lock you up in a room made of cushions,” Karam agreed. “He will not let you go anywhere near Ashwood or Zekia.”
“Exactly,” Tavia said. “Which is why he can’t know.”
“Understood. But when Saxony finds out—”
“You can’t tell her, either.”
“I am not lying to Saxony,” Karam said.
Tavia’s eyes were firm. “Yes, you are,” she said. “You know as well as I do that she can never find out. That’s why you asked to speak to me alone.”
Karam couldn’t deny the truth.
They didn’t know how Wesley would react with Tavia’s life on the line, and as much as Karam hated to admit it, Saxony couldn’t be trusted when it came to her sister. She had a history of refusing to see the worst in Zekia, and if it came down to her sister’s life or her friend’s, Karam wasn’t sure who Saxony would choose.
Saxony couldn’t face the harsh truth that Zekia might not be worth saving.
It would be up to Karam to do what needed to be done, before Tavia’s life was sacrificed. It was her job as one of the sole surviving descendants of the Rekhi d’Rihsni. Saving Crafters and the world had to be more important than saving just one person.
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