Page 141 of Heir

Skies, it was like having three bossy older sisters. Unlike R’z, the elements weren’t trying to kill her—yet—so she ignored them, stepping behind a large mess tent as a knot of people passed.

Most were soldiers in worn gear, but one was different. Small andthin, with short brown hair that framed a pretty face. Sirsha stared at her from the shadows, feeling as if she should know her.

The earth cringed from the girl and the wind gave way to her, bending to her will with deep reluctance. Mother Div rose like a miasma from her tent and followed the girl at a distance. Instantly, Sirsha recognized the girl’s spoor.

Thiswas the Tel Ilessi.

Alive. And there was no sign of Quil.Bleeding, burning skies.If Quil had gotten himself killed, she’d drag his body to the Cloud Forest and demand a Songma, a spirit Jaduna, rustle up his ghost so she could shout at him.

The Tel Ilessi drew closer. Sirsha was no Deshma, like J’yan. She was a tracker with solid knife skills and a penchant for survival. That instinct kicked in now, and she eased into the shadows of the tent.

Power bulged malignantly from the woman—more power than Sirsha had ever felt. More than any one person should have.

The Tel Ilessi disappeared toward the airfield, Div oozing after, taking her misshapen darkness with her.

Hunt!the elements screamed.

Piss off, she hissed back. She couldn’t bind that thing yet. And for now, the oath coin didn’t control her. She wouldn’t kill herself for it.

When Sirsha was certain the woman and her monstrous creature were gone, she stepped away from the tent—and straight into a blade of a human.

“Ah. The prince’s little friend,” the man said. She recognized his voice and the halo of power crackling around him. This was the fellow shethoughtwas the Tel Ilessi. His nodded in satisfaction at the sight of her. “Just who I was looking for.”

Theman—someone called him Cero—pulled her to the east side of the camp. His guards, one bearded, one not, clapped her in manacles. They leered at her, grabbing handfuls of her body like the pigs they were. Sirsha attempted to shake them off, but they only laughed, and didn’t stop until Cero barked an order at them.

She let her hate bubble up in her glare. She’d enjoy knifing them in the guts when she and Quil escaped.

Cero shooed the guards away as they approached a large, flag-festooned tent. Once inside, Sirsha’s knees went weak in relief. Quil was within—chained, gagged, and surrounded by guards—but alive. Through their Adah coin, Sirsha felt joy flood him at the sight of her.

“Ivashk,” Cero said to the soldiers, who promptly exited the tent, leaving him alone with Quil and Sirsha.

Apparently, this Kegari wasn’t as smart as he was pretty.

Almost as soon as she thought it, the air around her tightened, holding her in place so she couldn’t so much as twitch a pinkie.

Cero ungagged Quil. “Can’t have you trying to escape. Not before you answer my questions, anyway.”

“I thought you had interrogators for that.” Quil rolled his shoulders, voice dangerously flat. “I was looking forward to running rings around them.”

To Sirsha’s surprise, Cero offered Quil a wry smile. “I was looking forward to hearing how badly they failed,” he said. “Alas, no interrogators for you. Just me and the wind.”

The air around them burned hotter—almost painful, but not quite. A warning.

Though not one Sirsha planned on heeding. Cero was powerful. But she could bind him. She began to gather her power.

“If this is about the Loha—” Quil said, but Cero shook his head.

“I know that if we want the Loha, we will have to destroy your Empire and assassinate the Masks one by one,” Cero said. “Even that willnot be enough, for the Tel Ilessi wishes us to return to our homeland across the sea.” He didn’t sound particularly happy about that fact. “I do hate war. I hate what it brings out in people. But there’s something else I hate more. Witnessing the manipulation of my oldest friend.”

Sirsha, focused almost entirely on her binding, paused in her efforts as Cero turned to her.

“This creature that calls itself Mother Div,” he said. “You’ve tangled with it. Is it the Holy Cleric’s spirit, or some other devilry?”

Sirsha couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d pulled a lute from his bum and begun his questioning in verse.

“I’ll tell you, pretty boy.” Sirsha released her magic. Perhaps he could share something useful about Div. “But I need a bit more information than that.”

“Aiz, our Tel Ilessi—your prince here knew her as Ilar—she stole a book more than a year ago,” Cero said.

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