Page 27 of Return of the Darkness
“Idiots.” Nyzaia rolled her eyes at the ridiculous suggestion. She had devoted years of her life to the Red Stones. Why would she punish them, even if they had changed their way of things? It was not her place anymore, not as the Queen of Keres. But, although she should be distancing from them as queen, the old position called to her still—taunting. She had failed to protect the Red Stones.
“Honestly, none of the heads have been bothered about finding the culprit. They’re more focused on passing blame and prioritising themselves,” Rafik sighed.
“Nothing’s changed then.” Nyzaia mumbled, sliding into the narrow gap in the stone. “I’m fine, Farid,” she called, after he silently cursed her for entering first.
“Do you have a plan?” he yelled from behind, his tone short.
“My plan is to examine the recent scene first before the heads pester me.” Her plan was cut short as she stepped into the flame-lit cavern, greeted by the very six people she intended to avoid. They stood in a line with their arms crossed, watching.
“Bow, or I’ll slit your legs and force you to kneel instead,” Jabir called, entering behind Nyzaia with a grin. The slim, short man at the far-right end of the line smirked and shifted his weight between his feet. He combed a hand through his long dark hair.
“Come now, Jabir. You know I’m always willing to get on my knees for you,” he said. Jabir laughed at the Head of the Spies, though a spike of anger struck Nyzaia. She glanced at Farid.
“Flattered as I am, Ozan, I live in a palace now. I desire farmore prestigious men.” Although Jabir faced Nyzaia, it did not go unnoticed that his eyes travelled elsewhere. He glanced over her shoulder to where she sensed Farid’s presence.
“I see the palace hasn’t altered your wit, Jabir.” A sensual voice danced towards them. Emiri, Head of the Courtesans, sauntered across the sandy floor, swaying her hips with her usual exaggerated motion; the bangles on her wrists clinked in time with each step. The woman flicked her pin straight, black locks over one shoulder, barely glancing at Nyzaia while approaching Farid. Nyzaia rolled her eyes. “And who…” She trailed a hand up his arm. “Are you?”
Farid cleared his throat and stepped closer to his queen.
“Hands off, Emiri,” Jabir snapped, losing all traces of his previous humour. Nyzaia raised her eyebrows, matching the expressions of those in the cavern. Farid cleared his throat and shifted on the sand. As much as she loved teasing Jabir, Farid’s awkwardness prompted her to intervene before anyone else could jest or put her captain on the spot.
“What did I do to earn such a…graciouswelcome?” Nyzaia asked, glancing at the heads. Their faces were far from gracious. The bulky man in the middle twitched, his hand inching towards one of the many daggers strapped to his thighs. Sweat dripped off his bare chest signalling he had been in the middle of training. Nyzaia smirked at his narrowed eyes. “Perhaps you could answer, Darous?”
Instead of replying, the man grasped the handle of his dagger, while Farid grabbed the pommel of his own blade. Darous’s eyes switched to the captain with a scoff. Farid would win easily; he was smarter than Darous and quicker. But no matter how entertaining that fight would be, it would get them nowhere.
“Is it not deemed respectable for the heads to welcome theirqueen?” Majida, Head of the Alchemists, asked, dragging out her vowels, amusing the man beside her. Nyzaia looked at Zahir. The Head of the Dealers was evidently in a drug-filled high, his dilated pupils a clear giveaway. Majida elbowed his side in caution, but hemerely giggled and flicked her earring, one of the many piercings on her body.
“Let’s cut the pretences, shall we?” Nyzaia glared at Emiri and raised her chin to gesture the courtesan back into place. For the final time, Emiri roamed her eyes over Farid before sauntering back to the rest of the committee. He shivered before resuming his usual rigid stature. “Seeing as you initially wanted to blame me for these sacrifices, let’s not pretend you have any respect for my position as Queen of Keres. Hell, you barely respected me when I was Queen of the Red Stones; you only listened because our laws dictated it.” Darous ground his jaw. The reminder would rile him the most. In the battle for the position of power, he had tried to intervene to kill Arjan first, which would have won him the position Nyzaia had coveted.
“It makes sense.” Emiri smirked. “Scare us into submission, so we abide by anything you say, even as Queen of Keres.”
Nyzaia scoffed. “Please, when has anything ever scared any of you?”
“She’s not wrong,” Zahir laughed. Nyzaia smelled the smoke drifting off him.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if one of you was behind this, simply so you could pin it on me and solve the mystery yourself. It would be a fascinating statement that would promote one of you as the only ruler after putting an end to all these murders.” Nyzaia raised her hand, examining her nails and feigning disinterest while flames danced on her fingertips. The light reflected in her eyes as she peered back at them all. “Who would be the greediest, the hungriest to take control? Who would sacrifice their own to come out on top?” Nyzaia’s words trickled into the heads’ ears as they exchanged worried glances. Finally, the only head yet to speak up raised her voice.
“None of us did it,” said Najat, the Head of the Torturers. Her voice was still as quiet and lethal as Nyzaia remembered. She had scraped back her tightly curled hair and assessed Nyzaia withkohl-lined eyes. The woman wore the same fighting leathers as Tajana, and Nyzaia clenched her jaw to stop the fizzing emotions inside of her. Fresh blood splattered the material.
“And what makes you so confident?” Nyzaia asked, allowing her flames to fade as she stepped towards Najat. The woman glanced at the other heads.
“There is a commonality between them all, something we would not kill for.” Her words prompted Emiri and Majida to share a look. They did not want Najat sharing this information.
“And why would you not kill them for this commonality?” Nyzaia stood toe-to-toe with the torturer, peering down at her, while trying to piece the puzzle together. Although she wanted to be one step ahead, she could not fathom why someone was sacrificing people.
“Because they would have been more valuable alive,” Najat whispered the words as though something inside her warned she could never take them back.
“You have certainly piqued my interest,” Nyzaia murmured. A single drop of gold marked Najat’s dark eyes, mesmerising everyone she encountered. Najat straightened under the queen’s scrutiny.
“I traced the history of them all. They were all bastards of lords or ladies across the kingdom, or at least their lineage.” Nyzaia narrowed her eyes. “Every single one of them had lineage linking back to families with a long history dating back to Ithyion.”
“Did they have powers?”
Najat looked at the other heads, who met her stare with narrowed eyes.
“Yes.” Najat nodded. Nyzaia spun on her heel and clasped her hands behind her back. She strode towards the entrance of the Blades’ quarters, glancing at Issam and Rafik as she did, who both gave a miniscule shake of their heads. They had not known such information. Nyzaia pointed one finger at the floor, signalling for Issam and Rafik to stay with the heads.
“Najat!” Nyzaia barked, pausing at the archway. “Lead the way.”
