All the Stars and Teeth(104)

The Kers turn back to him, angry, but we can’t help him fight. We have to keep climbing.

This far from the shore, Casem and Bastian remove the fabric from their ears and toss the scraps to the ground. The rain has slicked the cliffside, and in our haste, I trip and slam my knee on the ground. Searing pain stabs through my thigh and up my spine until I see white.

Someone grabs me beneath the arms and hauls me back up. My leg tries to give out, but I grit down the pain and force myself forward.

The palace is in sight.

Just a little farther …

Pain tears through my shoulder, and I cry out. I turn to see a knife embedded in my skin. It drips with an oozing black liquid that spreads through my arm and forms a web of thin black lines over my shoulder. My attacker is a Zudian who has rushed us from the side of the palace and is drawing another throwing knife from their belt.

“Casem!” Bastian yells as I clutch my numbing arm into my chest. The next thing I hear is the familiar thump of a falling body as Casem shoots the attacker down. His shots never miss.

Bastian’s by my side within seconds. He snatches the bone dagger I took from the woman I killed in Zudoh and, without warning, grinds it into my shoulder. I scream out, gripping on to his soaked shirt and balling my fists into it.

I want to curse. I want to call him the most vicious names. But as he slices into my shoulder and draws blood from my arm, sensation trickles its way back into my fingertips. Slowly, but it’s something.

“You’re going to be fine,” he tells me, voice gruff as he rips at his cape and tears off a sliver of wet fabric, tying it firmly around my arm. I grimace against the pain, tears threatening to sting my eyes.

But we have to keep moving. With a searing knee and a numbing arm, I’m battered and magicless. But we’ve no other choice.

Supported by Bastian, I make my way through the doors of my home.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR


The palace is empty. Likely evacuated, as most of the guards fighting for or against Arida are near the shore. Slick marble floors screech against our wet and muddied footsteps, telling us we do not belong here. Warning us to leave while we still have the chance.

I clutch Rukan close and slip out of Bastian’s hold. My body is ghostly, limbs tingling with the slow threat of increasing numbness. My legs tremble, and with every step agony stabs up my thigh from where I’ve shattered my knee. But still, I will walk.

Still, I will fight.

The screech of our footsteps echoes against the overly bright walls of the palace, filling the dense and soundless void. A pressure in my chest draws me forward and toward the throne room, where, somehow, I know Father waits.

I’m heavy with rain and crusted blood as I force myself up each sapphire step. I cling to the pearl railing, gritting my teeth against pain. Behind me, Casem and Bastian keep quiet, following the awful pace I’ve set. I’m halfway up the flight when an earsplitting scream shakes the walls. Behind me, Casem inhales a sharp breath.

“Mira,” is all he whispers before he pushes past me and bounds up the staircase at full speed. I curse my brittle knee and follow. Sweat layers my face and coats my neck from the effort.

I reel back when a black-robed Curmanan woman bounds out a door, followed by a Valukan royal soldier. They spin to face the three pursuers, two white-caped Zudians and a time-wielding Ker in deep amethyst.

In the back of my mind I remember something Father said long ago: Those who practice time magic make some of the finest soldiers. They’ll have their sword deep in the enemy’s gut before anyone can blink.

I know I need to help—to distract the Ker and slow them down as best as I can—but Bastian grabs my wrist when I try to step forward.

He pulls me back the moment the Ker touches the shoulders of one of her Zudian partners—a male whose movements speed up dramatically. I can barely keep up with the strikes of the Zudian’s blade, but fortunately the Curmanan is prepared for them.

She ducks and falls back, using levitation to tear her opponent’s sword from his hands. The Zudian lunges in a quick counterattack, so fast that his body is a blur thanks to the aid of his companion’s magic. But the Curmanan has reversed the sword in the air, so the tainted black tip points toward the Zudian.

She pushes her hands forward, and because the man is moving too quickly to stop himself, he falls with a yelp as the sword pierces through his chest, body spasming as thick lines of poison lick their way across his skin and paint it gray.

Meanwhile, the Valukan man runs his hands through one of the torches that lights the hall, now wielding its flame in his grasp. When the remaining attackers strike, the Valukan shoves the fire into their opponents’ chests.

“They’ve got it handled,” Bastian says. “Let’s keep moving.”

We bound around the fight and head into the washing room, where several Valukans with the affinity for water stand ready beside the basins. My breath hitches when I see Mother is among them.

Rarely have I seen her use her Valukan magic offensively; she’s never had a reason to. Yet when the Valukans see us approach, water lashes around Mother like a hungry, fierce weapon. I reel back at the vicious tides, cursing the pain in my knee. Only when she sees my face does Mother suck in a breath, the water slamming back down into the basin.

“Amora!” She rushes forward and throws her arms around me tightly. I grit my teeth against the pain her touch elicits, and bury my face in her thick curls as she drags me into her. “You’re safe.” Her body trembles with the sobs she’s holding in, trying to keep strong for the others. “By the gods, you’re safe.”