“Return to the residential quarter at once, Your Highness. By order of the council,” said the Sentinel in the same hollow monotone they all used.

Karina struggled in vain as the Sentinel hauled her away from the fountain, her blows barely making a dent in his strides. The wind tore through the trees, branches jerking in every direction like the fire she had started. The world was in unnervingly sharp focus—magic radiated off the soldier in deadly waves, and Karina was too busy fighting for her freedom to wonder why.

“Wait!”

Karina could not see Adil, but she could hear him as he approached, once again using the beguiling tone that had enraptured the city during the Second Challenge.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” said Adil, his footsteps getting closer. “There’s no one in this garden who can hurt you.”

The Sentinel’s body slackened as Adil spoke. His grip loosened, and Karina wiggled a single arm free from the soldier’s grasp. Whatever trance Adil had on the man was so strong that the Sentinel didn’t notice him toss something onto the ground near Karina’s free hand.

A dagger with a golden hilt and black blade.

Without thinking, Karina grabbed the knife and stabbed it into a chink in the Sentinel’s thigh armor. The soldier dropped her with a howl, and she latched onto his ankle before he could grab her again. In the same movement, Adil rammed the man with his shoulder. The impact sent the Sentinel flying backward, and propelleed Adil and Karina through the stone passageway. As soon as Karina hit the stairs, the opening shut tight above them with a heavy thud.

Head over heels, Adil and Karina continued to fall over the ledge beside the mural into a dark, unknown world below.

25

Malik

Malik hit the river’s surface with a sickening crash, and was pulled downward by the heavy fabric of his clothes. For the second time in less than a day, his limbs flailed uselessly through churning water for stability that wasn’t there. His magic surged, but no illusion could save him from the swirling rapids.

As futile as it was, Malik fought. He wasn’t going to drown here, not while Nadia was still in danger. Just as his vision began to fade, strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him upward. Malik burst through the surface, gasping for air, and the current pulled him forward until he threw himself against a rock jutting above the water.

A movement on the riverbank caught Malik’s attention. Karina leaned over the water’s edge, her hand stretched toward him. “Over here!”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Malik took a huge breath and let go. The frightening weightlessness returned once more, but he reached Karina just as he began to sink again. With her help, he clambered onto the riverbank and collapsed into her arms. Neither said anything for several long minutes as they held onto each other, filled with simple relief at being alive.

“. . . Twice now,” said Karina.

Malik coughed. “Twice what?”

“Twice now I’ve had you on your knees.”

Malik could hear the grin in her voice, and he was suddenly very aware of her body pressed against his. Even though Karina’s warmth was a blessing after the river’s icy grip, he forced himself to pull away.

“You saved my life.” Without Karina, he would have gone under and never surfaced. Thank the Great Mother he hadn’t—if he’d drowned here, it would have been the end for Nadia as well.

Karina sat up, squeezing water out of her silver hair. “I just gave you my hand. You pulled yourself out.”

“Before that. When I was underwater, you pulled me to the surface.”

“No, I didn’t. I was already on the riverbank when I saw you.”

“Then what was . . .” Stories about creatures that lurked in the deep filled Malik’s mind, and he decided that he did not want to know the answer to that question; whatever creature had saved him was the Great Mother’s business, not his.

Now that the shock of almost dying again had begun to wear off, Malik looked around. The cavern they were in was easily several stories high, with no ceiling in sight. The stone was rough and unfinished, a far cry from the neat sandstone that formed the rest of Ziran, and the air hung heavy with the musty scent of river mold.

He and Karina were truly alone now. No witnesses. No more excuses.

Karina’s brow furrowed, as if she’d sensed the shift in his thinking. “What were you doing at the palace, and how did you get into the garden?” she asked sharply.

The Mark slithered into Malik’s closed palm as he calculated the best place to strike her. He wanted this to be clean and quick.

“I left the Midway because I wanted to apologize for what I said during the Second Challenge.” It was a little unsettling how easy lying was becoming for him. “I wasn’t careful enough with what I said, and I’m so sorry I put you in an uncomfortable position. During the fire, I was on one of the upper floors when I saw you run into a room, and the Sentinel ran in after you. Something didn’t seem right, so I followed and entered from the same window you jumped through.”

That part was technically true. After leaving the Midway near noon, Malik had followed a team of servants into Ksar Alahari. The wraiths had vanished as soon as he’d entered the palace grounds, and he’d spent hours invisibly trekking the palace’s many twists and turns. He might have wandered Ksar Alahari well into the night had the chaos from the fire not led him to see Karina running from the danger.

The crease between Karina’s brows deepened; she didn’t believe his tale. He looked up at her through his lashes in the same way Nadia used to do when she wanted to wheedle her way out of a punishment she knew she deserved.

“I have no doubt you could have handled that man on your own. But . . .” Malik paused and looked down again. His voice was soft as he said, “It’s just like you told me during the raid. I couldn’t watch you get hurt knowing there was something I could do to help.”

Karina looked away with a cough. “Well, you’re here now, so I accept your apology. And . . . thank you. For being there.”

A wave of relief ran through Malik. The less suspicious of him Karina was, the easier this would be. The hilt of the spirit blade pressed into his palm. All it would take was one true hit in any of her vital regions and then—

And then she’d die.

The thought of Karina’s blood spilling over his hands sent a jolt of revulsion through Malik. He audibly gagged, but the princess’s attention was no longer on him. Her eyes were trained on a golden glow past the ledge on which they rested. Karina dashed to the cliff’s edge, Malik following closely behind.

Hidden within a chasm longer than the tallest tower in Ksar Alahari was a city that glittered like a gold gash against the dark stone. It reminded Malik of the miniature towns that artisans sold in the markets, the replicas always too perfect and pretty to resemble anyplace where people truly lived. As he gazed down at the impossible sight, a hum ran through his bones, tugging him forward. The Mark sank into his skin and scuttled under his sleeve.

“What is that?” he whispered. There was no need to whisper as they were the only ones there, but this seemed like the sort of place where one shouldn’t raise their voice.

“‘The gods that weren’t’ . . . It’s a necropolis. The Kennouans built them to house their pharaohs after death. This is it.” Before Malik could inquire further, Karina raced down the thin stairs hugging the cliff side.

“Wait!” Malik cried, chasing after her. “Your ancestors built their city on top of an ancient Kennouan tomb?”

“It wasn’t my idea!”

They made it to the bottom of the staircase, and Malik could see now why the city had shined so brightly—every surface, from the fronts of the buildings to the snake-headed statues guarding the doors, had been crafted from gold. The architecture was different from Ziran’s, consisting mostly of thick pillars, flat pyramids, and obelisks that seemed to shift when Malik looked at them.

Nadia’s screams resounded through Malik’s ears, yet each time he tried to summon the spirit blade, his hand stalled.

“We should wait for someone to find us,” he called out. The closer they got to the center of the necropolis, the more incessant the hum became. There were no signs of the grim folk anywhere, which meant they were likely still beneath the palace.

“No one’s going to find us because I have the only key that can access the fountain,” Karina called back. “Unless you’re planning to swim upstream back to Ksar Alahari, our only way out of this place will be through it.”

If what Karina said was true, then he’d never escape the necropolis without her, and there was no point in killing her down here if he wasn’t alive to prove it to Idir.

For as long as he needed her help, keeping Karina alive was the smartest course of action. For that reason and that reason alone, he’d put his plan on hold.