The Core

‘I am sorry, cousin.’ Asukaji looked pitiful as Asome wiped the last smudge from his lips. ‘I failed you. Everam judged me and found me unworthy.’

‘You yet live,’ Asome said. ‘We will find a way to heal you. Already the dama make great strides with hora magic. Soon we will unlock all the secrets of the dama’ting. You will be restored and given another chance at glory.’

‘The Damajah could heal me now,’ Asukaji rasped. ‘We have her parents. She would not dare refuse.’

‘We should not underestimate what my mother will dare,’ Asome warned. ‘Who knows what this dal’ting and a khaffit are truly worth to her?’

‘Surely not as much …’ Asukaji’s face reddened with the exertion of speaking, ‘… as Tikka or Kaji, or you would have them in the underpalace.’

Asome shook his head. ‘I do not trust them down among the dama’s experiments. An explosion in Dama Shevali’s laboratory killed one of his nie’dama and cost another his eye.’

‘They had best be worth something,’ Asukaji wheezed. ‘You traded my black turban for the hostages. If they cannot buy back our son, then let it be my limbs.’

‘We cannot reveal such a weakness to my mother,’ Asome said. ‘She will find a way to twist it against us. The turban will be returned to you when you are healed. Baden thinks he is holding it for Kaji. He knows he cannot keep it forever.’

‘Do not underestimate Baden,’ Asukaji whispered. ‘I know how you get around Cashiv. He makes you stupid.’

‘I can handle Cashiv,’ Asome said.

‘That is what worries me.’

‘What does it matter?’ Asome growled. ‘We have gone to Baden’s parties with oil on our belts since we were in sharaj. You’ve lain with Cashiv as many times as I.’

‘It matters because I could please you, then,’ Asukaji said. ‘Because I was your Jiwah Ka, the first sheath for your spear.’

‘You still are,’ Asome said.

‘Then take me.’

‘Eh?’ Asome’s face slackened.

‘Now, before that cursed gruel runs through me,’ Asukaji begged. ‘Roll me onto my stomach and have me.’

‘Asukaji …’ Asome said.

‘No!’ There were tears in her brother’s eyes. ‘I cannot stop you lying with others, but I swear by Everam I will never swallow another spoonful if you cease to lie with me.’

Asome took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. Ashia could not bear to watch as he took oil and began to work himself for the deed. She fled the chamber while her brother and husband were too occupied to notice.

Micha was waiting when Ashia made it back to the stairs, a welcome distraction from her thoughts.

Report, Ashia’s fingers commanded.

I have found them, Micha replied. There are guards, but together we might …

Ashia made the sign for Nie. Our duty is to report to the Damajah.

Jarvah joined them as they descended. Asome’s underpalace is protected by hora magic. I could not penetrate it.

Irrelevant, Ashia told her. We have intelligence the Damajah needs. The three Sharum’ting slipped past the guards and out of Asome’s wing.

11 (#ulink_9182bf1b-2fe8-53d1-8b87-c1631dc8ac29)

Sorcerers (#ulink_9182bf1b-2fe8-53d1-8b87-c1631dc8ac29)

334 AR

‘Nie’s slimy cunt!’ Inevera scooped up the dice. They had not warned that her mother was in danger, and now they brought nothing but bad news and vagaries.

She breathed, trying to find her centre, but peace eluded her. Had she fallen from Everam’s favour? How could He let this happen to Manvah, as honourable a woman as any alive? Always before He had warned her when her family was threatened.

But now her husband was dead, and the dice betrayed her.

She rolled back on her heels and stood, feeling the vibration in her earring. The connection with Ashia and her spear sisters had been severed when they entered Asome’s wing of the palace. A bad sign. Melan and Asavi had given Asome and his brothers the secret of hora magic, and it seemed they were quick studies.

‘Damajah,’ Ashia whispered in her ear from the other side of the palace. ‘We have found them, but there is more. We must speak immediately.’

‘The west passage.’ Inevera was already moving for the door. She was bedecked in warded jewellery, her hora pouch laden with spells. She had been overconfident, spoiled by the strength of her wand, when Melan and Asavi came to kill her. She would not make that mistake again.

She wore opaque robes of crimson silk, embroidered with wards in electrum thread. Like the robes of Everam’s spear sisters, all eyes – human and alagai – would slip from her when she wished it. At her belt was the curved knife she used to draw blood for her foretellings. It was not meant as a weapon, but the edge was razor-sharp and would do if all else failed.

The Sharum’ting were waiting for her in a hidden tunnel leading to the west wing. The Damajah had claimed the east wing to face the dawn, the Shar’Dama Ka west to face the sunset.

‘Asukaji is alive,’ Ashia said.

Inevera scowled. Another thing the dice had failed to tell her, though in fairness she had not asked. ‘You told me you killed him.’

‘I snapped his neck,’ Ashia confirmed. ‘But he clings to life, unable to move, hidden in Asome’s chambers. He wants to trade Manvah for you to make him whole again, but Asome does not trust you.’

‘Nor I, him,’ Inevera said. ‘This changes nothing. We go now to free my parents.’

Ashia stepped in front of her, kneeling with hands on the floor. ‘It is not necessary for the Damajah to expose herself. We have penetrated my husband’s defences. Everam’s spear sisters can effect the rescue.’

Inevera shook her head. On this, the dice had been clear. ‘You will die if you go without me, and the rescue fail.’

The women’s auras clouded at that. They were the finest warriors she had ever known, but their pride was as boundless as their honour.

‘Will it succeed if the Damajah accompanies us?’ Ashia asked.

Inevera blew out a breath. ‘Unclear.’

‘Damajah, you must …’

Inevera clapped her hands, cutting the young woman off. ‘You do not tell me what I must, Sharum. Your duty is to be silent and obey.’

Inevera let the spear sisters surround her, Ashia in front and Micha and Jarvah to either side. All of them skittered quickly and quietly along, robes blending with the ceiling tiles. They penetrated the outer halls, making their way unseen to the sixth-floor stairwell were Iraven stood guard.

As Ashia warned, the boy was alert, clad in impenetrable armour of warded glass that glowed brightly in Everam’s light. She could see the demon bone cores of his weapon and armour, enough to give him inhuman strength and speed.