Page 104 of Heir

The Bani al-Mauth said something in Serran, a language Aiz didn’t fully understand. Laia’s attention drifted to Ruh. She nodded once and disappeared into the outer edge of the caravan. The woman sent her other grandchildren off with promises to find them later, before prowling toward Aiz.

“Ruh’s Ankanese friend,” she said.

“A harder worker I’ve never met, Bani al-Mauth,” Tas spoke up. “And she has a good sense of humor.”

The holy woman snorted, well aware of Tas’s idea of humor.

“Don’t get many Ankanese spirits in the Forest of Dusk.” The Bani al-Mauth turned her scarred face to Aiz. Whatever softness she’d shownher grandchildren was gone. “Your seers have a tight grip over the death rituals.”

“The seers guide us.” Aiz thought back to her time on Dolbra’s ship. “The orisons we sing light the way to our own after.”

The Bani al-Mauth grunted in agreement or disapproval; Aiz couldn’t tell which.

“My daughter says you’re seeking a story. Are you sure it’s one that wishes to be found?”

“I don’t know.” Aiz’s only choice was honesty. This woman would pick out a lie from a mile away. Even shading the truth was dangerous.

“Not all stories should be told, girl,” the woman said. “Sometimes they cause more damage than good. I’d hate it if you brought harm to my family. For your sake.”

The old woman excused herself, disappearing amid the wagons. Aiz warmed her hands by the fire, a placid smile on her face, as if the holiest—and most powerful—woman in the Tribal Lands hadn’t just menaced her. Aiz’s rage, so well controlled for weeks, stirred fitfully. But she tamped it down as always, for it would not serve her.

When it seemed as if everyone had moved on to their own tasks, she stood up, and followed the Bani al-Mauth.

Aiz crept past the wagons and tents closest to her to the more distant ones, where Laia and Elias had made camp. She moved slowly, until she spotted three figures standing around a fire near Laia’s silver and green wagon. One of them was tall and broad-shouldered: Elias.

Aiz knew by now that the big man moved fast. Faster than was normal. She suspected he had magic of some sort. She walked with care, flitting from wagon to wagon until she could make out their conversation.

Which was in Serran.

A voice spoke from beside her, and Aiz clapped her hand over her own mouth so she didn’t scream.

“The next time you want to spy,” Ruh whispered, “bring me with you. I can translate.”

“You scared me!”

“Nan is saying that someone…or something is tied to the Forest of Dusk.” He translated line by line then, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re certain you’ve seen no sign of magic in him?”

“Nothing beyond what you already know.” Elias’s deep voice was soft. “What do the jinn say of it?”

“Very little.” The Bani al-Mauth sounded angry. “Those few who pass the ghosts speak to me of our work, but not of their people. Something is afoot. Some change. And he is at the heart of it, but I cannot glean more than that.”

Ruh looked suddenly abashed. “Now, ah, now they’re talking about you.”

“Me? Why would they talk about me?”

“Nan wants to know why Laia gives shelter to every stray who comes her way—” Ruh squeezed Aiz’s hand. “You’re not a stray,” he whispered. “You’re my friend.”

Aiz didn’t know why a lump rose in her throat. Maybe because she knew he was sincere. Maybe because Ruh was her friend, too, and she had grown to truly care for him these past few weeks.

“Ruh, you left the bleeding dishes!” Sufiyan’s irritated voice called through the dark, growing closer with every word. “If you don’t get your skinny behind over here, I’m going to dump them in your bedroll!”

The boy jumped up. “I have to go!”

Aiz stared after him, mouth open in protest, then turned back to Laia, Elias, and the Bani al-Mauth.

Only to find that there were two people at the fire now.

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