Gates of Thread and Stone(72)

He swished the purple liquid in his goblet. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry.

“Your friend—Avan, is it? Interesting young man. No matter how many ways we cut him open, he just doesn’t die.”

The shaking started in my hands and spread to my arms.

He set his goblet on the table and clasped his hands behind his back. “And no, to answer your burning question, your friend is not of the Infinite. Isn’t that right, Kalla?”

“A most curious human,” she noted.

If Avan wasn’t a descendant—and no one knew what he was—then that only made what had happened in the arena more baffling. He was a mystery, like me. I had to find him. I had to save him.

The exit was behind me, but it was likely guarded by sentinels. There was the door Ninu had come through, but that was a good thirty feet across the room. I’d never make it in time.

But I could make time. Irra had said that even the Infinite couldn’t escape the River’s flow. If I held the threads, I could probably at least get to Ninu before time caught up. And the knife in my boot would have found his heart.

“You seem impatient,” he said. “I’m willing to indulge you. I should very much like it if you could now tell me how to find Irra’s base.”

“I’d love to,” I said. “I hope Irra welcomes you by rotting out your eyes.”

“I look forward to the hospitality.” He looked at me expectantly. His forehead was unlined. Still, he clearly seemed old, unlike Istar.

I sent a silent apology to Irra, but I wasn’t too worried. I had the feeling Etu Gahl wouldn’t be found unless Irra wanted it to be.

“It’s lost,” I said. “Beyond the Void.”

Ninu tilted his head as he glanced at Kalla. “Irra’s errand boy said something similar. But it was difficult to make out with all the screaming.”

Whoever had been sent to meet us behind Zora Hall at noon must’ve been met by Ninu’s sentinels instead. Did that mean DJ or another hollow was dead?

I prayed it hadn’t been Mason. It couldn’t have been. Mason would have been rebranded, not killed. Please. Please.

“His death was quick,” Ninu confirmed. “But Avan will not be shown the same mercy. In fact, it seems not to be an option at all. So he will continue to suffer until you agree to lead me to Irra.”

I swallowed. “Lead you?”

Ninu approached me. Good. The closer he was, the better my aim. I tried not to look at Kalla, afraid to give anything away. Why hadn’t she demanded I hand over the knife?

“Of course,” he said. “I’ve sent my sentinels on enough pointless ventures into the Void. This time, you will return under the pretense of a successful extraction.”

I didn’t cringe when he touched my face, despite the primal urge to snap at his fingers.

His next words were spoken inches from my ear. “Irra will open his gates to you, and you will lead us into his fortress.”

He turned away. Only someone as confident in his power as Ninu would present his back to his enemy. Lucky me.

I leaned over, fingers dipping into my boot. The knife handle felt warm against my palm, as if anticipating my intent.

Before Kalla could warn him, I threw my mind against the threads. Time slowed and grew slack around me. I could move freely against its current. Ninu was half turned, his expression frozen in astonishment.

Beneath the ribs—that was where Mason had said to strike with a weapon. The knife slid in with scarcely any resistance.

Time snapped forward. I pulled the knife free. Blood darkened Ninu’s tunic as he crumpled. My stomach roiled, but I hardened myself with the memory of Avan’s body in the arena and his moans filling the blank space of my cell.

I spun around and pointed the bloody knife at Kalla. “Where are my brother and Avan?”

Kalla adjusted the strap of her silver dress and pursed glossy, red lips. She didn’t seem concerned by the fact that I’d just killed the Kahl. She wasn’t even looking at me.

A second later, I understood why.

A voice came from the shadowy alcove across the room, sinking into my skin.

“I haven’t seen that specific power for a long time.”





CHAPTER 36




A SHADOW EMERGED from the alcove and focused into the shape of a man. He wasn’t as tall as the one I’d just stabbed, and he was slender, with thin lips, a beaky nose, and white-blond hair cut close to his scalp. He looked young, not much older than Avan. His eyes were a cool green that reflected the same emptiness I’d seen in Irra’s.

He frowned at the body leaving a bloody puddle on the mosaic tiles.

“I liked him,” he said. His voice crept through the room. It skittered across my skin in a way that made me want to rub my arms and shake it off. “Now what am I supposed to tell the public about their fearless leader?”

I looked from the man on the floor to the one standing over him.

“You’re Ninurta,” I said.

He gave me a brittle smile.

“And he’s what?” I asked, gesturing to the body. “A puppet?”

Ninu touched his forehead, his lashes fluttering as he briefly shut his eyes. The door behind me opened. I shuffled back as a pair of sentinels entered. I didn’t relax my grip on the knife even when they walked past me.