Page 67 of Sins of His Wrath

Tshel moved on. “Shlar Sands.” Her voice quiet. “These sands are sacred to our people.”

Naya squinted at the map. “What is this dark area here?”

“The Nni?n-kka Sands.”

“Nni?n….” That sounded familiar. “Doesn’t that mean magic?” She turned to Prillu. “You told me that translates to magic.”

Prillu nodded. “Yes. Nni?n-kka means magic fields. It’s wherenni?n-ellithi—the wild magic—originates.”

Naya’s heart quickened. “What do you mean it originates from there?”

Prillu gestured to the map. “This is where the wild magic came from. Historically, it was bound solely to this area of the Sands.” She pointed to the dark area marked on the map. “Magic is an inherent part of the Sands, but the wild magic never used to travel beyond these sand fields.”

“That’s exactly how magic works in my land—our white fire is contained within a specific boundary.” She looked up. “What changed? When did the magic spread beyond its boundaries, and why?”

Prillu consulted several scrolls, her movements deliberate and precise. After several minutes of silence, broken only by the soft rustling of parchment, she looked up. “The records aren’t clear, princess. Approximately seventy years ago, the patterns began to change, but there is no documented cause.”

Something in Prillu’s tone snagged Naya’s attention—a slight hesitation, the way she swallowed. “But you have suspicions,” Naya pressed. “Something must have triggered such a fundamental change in how the magic moved across your region.”

Prillu’s held her eye, remaining almost too relaxed. “The records do not reflect any suspicions, princess.”

“Then give me your insight as diplomat and council member.”

“I cannot.”

“Why?”

Prillu looked at her but didn’t answer.

Naya looked around the table at the council members, but none would meet her eye, their gazes suddenly lowering to the stack of documents or flitting across the room.

“Ranin,” she said. “What is your insight on this?”

Ranin firmly shook his head. “Discussion on this isn’t allowed, princess.”

“Not allowed?” Naya made a face. “By who?”

Prillu cleared her throat. “No one can make speculations on this topic without thezmola’spermission.”

Frustration burned in Naya’s chest, hot and insistent. If magic had been contained to one area, how that changed could be the key to finding the Solution. Besides, magic had been contained in her Land for hundreds of years. Did that mean the same thing could happen to the empire?

Her gaze settled on Oppo, whose solemn eyes watched her with something akin to sympathy. “Oppo,” she said gently, “surely as the king’s brother, you have some discretion in this matter. Can you tell me why the magic moved out of this area?” She gestured to Tshel. “Please, translate for me.”

Tshel hesitated before speaking in their hard, harmonious language. Oppo listened intently, his expression growing grave. He leaned forward, the bulk of him hunching over the documents on the table. His voice, when he spoke, each word measured and weighted with what seemed like genuine regret.

Tshel’s translation came reluctantly. “He says: ‘I offer my deepest apologies, princess, but this matter has been a source of deep hurt, betrayal, and bloodshed for my family. Even speculation about is uncomfortable for many and borders on treason. Only—” Tshel hesitated before saying the next word. “—Akoro may explain it to you. He does not talk about it, but if you ask, he will.’”

A chill slid down Naya’s spine. Treason. So this was serious.

Prillu pushed back her chair, the wooden legs scraping against the stone floor.

“It’s nearlylur ennen,” she said. “We should stop.” She gestured toward the door where a guard had appeared, silent as a shadow. “Sarla will escort you back to your chambers, princess. We can reconvene afterward.”

Frustration coiled in Naya’s stomach—just as she was beginning to get answers, she was obstructed by Akoro’s absence of all things. The word treason echoed in her mind, drumming against her temples. What secret could be so dangerous that even speaking of it bordered on betrayal?

“No,” she said, pushing away from the table. Her feet ached after standing for so many hours. “You all can go but I don’t need to eat. Where is… thezmola?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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