Peter Brett - The Core

The floor was warded, a puzzle of steps that would sound an alarm if crossed improperly. Ashia memorized the path the boys took, but she and Micha followed along the walls, blending perfectly with the paint. They reached an inner stair guarded by a pair of clerics with warded staves, and the nie’dama split up, one continuing down the hall as the other ascended to the seventh floor.

Follow. Ashia used a finger to indicate the first boy. Her mission was to find the Damajah’s parents, but this close, Ashia could not resist looking in on her treacherous husband. She followed the second boy up the stairs, slithering along the ceiling faster than he could climb. She was his shadow as he passed guards and doors, coming at last to an anteroom where the boy laid the tray on a table, knocked at the far door, and then quickly scurried out, closing the hall door behind him.

Ashia was ready to leap when the door opened, but when she saw Asome, her breath caught and she nearly missed her opportunity. In their entire marriage, had she ever seen her husband answer a door? That was a task for women and servants.

Then Asome did the unthinkable. The Shar’Dama Ka, supreme leader of all Krasia, bent and picked up the tray himself. Ashia slipped in while his back was turned, thoughts reeling. Had Asome become a recluse since Asukaji died? A haunted shell of a man? Part of her hoped it was so. A taste of the judgement he would find in Heaven.

‘Dinner, my sun,’ Asome called, and Ashia blinked. His wife and lover murdered, and he had already found another? Anger threatened her centre, but she brushed it aside, skittering along the ceiling to follow her husband to the pillow chamber. Who would she find? Dama Jamere? Cashiv? One of Asome’s half brothers?

The last person she expected was her brother, Asukaji, whose neck she had broken.

‘I am not hungry.’ Asukaji’s voice was a harsh whisper. ‘Take it away.’

Asome set the tray by the bedside. Asukaji lay prone, his body unmoving, its aura flat. Not dead, but not truly alive.

That changed at his neck. The aura about her brother’s head was hot and raw, his eyes focused and his face full of emotion.

Paralysed, Ashia realized with horror. For a warrior, it was a fate worse than death. Even now after he had tried to strangle her, she did not wish this upon her brother. They had been close when they were young, and part of her loved him still.

‘You must eat, my love,’ Asome said. ‘You cannot feel your hunger, but it is there. Without food, you will waste away.’

‘And what if I do?’ Asukaji demanded. ‘Better I eat, and lie helpless as I shit the bed an hour from now? I could have died with honour. Instead you force me to linger, a prisoner in this worthless shell.’

Asome sat on the edge of the bed, taking one of Asukaji’s limp hands. ‘I cannot do this without you. Half my plans and stratagems are yours.’

‘That is not what you thought when you fucked that heasah. ’ Asukaji’s head lolled with the force of his snarl.

Asome was quick to steady him, kissing his forehead. ‘She is your sister, whom you yourself insisted become my Jiwah Ka. ’

Ashia’s cheek twitched. She fell deeper into her breath, silent as stone.

‘ I am your Jiwah Ka !’ Asukaji’s cry was hoarse. ‘She was a womb to carry the son I could not.’

Asome lifted the cover from the tray, steam rising off a bowl of thin gruel that was likely all her brother could swallow. Asome blew on a spoonful like a mother preparing to feed an infant. ‘We needed her trust, cousin. For her to believe me loyal to her and humble before my mother. And if I’d created another son for us, so much the better.’

Asukaji spat at the spoon as it came near, but it came out as a dribble on his chin. ‘I am not a fool, Asome. Sons and plots were not on your mind when you bent her.’

‘What does it matter?’ Asome took a silk napkin, wiping Asukaji’s mouth. ‘She could never replace you in my heart. No one can. She could have been a valuable Jiwah Sen but for your jealousy. You insisted on killing her.’

He took Asukaji’s jaw in his hand, squeezing until his teeth opened enough to admit the spoon.

‘But you were not her match, were you, sweet Asukaji?’ Asome forced the gruel into his mouth. ‘Nor Melan and Asavi together a match for my mother. Now they are on the lonely path, you lie frozen, and my mother has hostaged half the throne.’ Asome massaged Asukaji’s throat until he swallowed.

‘Soon Amanvah will return to control the Kaji dama’ting , bringing with her a Jiwah Sen no doubt as deadly as your sister, and a husband blessed by Everam.’

‘A chin and khaffit ,’ Asukaji growled. ‘Amanvah should have been mine, as Ashia was yours. That was our bargain.’

‘ Khaffit or no, his power over the alagai is undeniable,’ Asome said. ‘What could I say when Father gave her to him? Mother’s power will grow when they return. We must balance the scales now, while there is still time.’

Asukaji stopped resisting, eating in silence. Asome was tender and attentive, massaging every swallow until the bowl was empty.

‘I am sorry, cousin.’ Asukaji looked pitiful as Asome wiped the last smudge from his lips. ‘I failed you. Everam judged me and found me unworthy.’

‘You yet live,’ Asome said. ‘We will find a way to heal you. Already the dama make great strides with hora magic. Soon we will unlock all the secrets of the dama’ting. You will be restored and given another chance at glory.’

‘The Damajah could heal me now,’ Asukaji rasped. ‘We have her parents. She would not dare refuse.’

‘We should not underestimate what my mother will dare,’ Asome warned. ‘Who knows what this dal’ting and a khaffit are truly worth to her?’

‘Surely not as much …’ Asukaji’s face reddened with the exertion of speaking, ‘… as Tikka or Kaji, or you would have them in the underpalace.’

Asome shook his head. ‘I do not trust them down among the dama ’s experiments. An explosion in Dama Shevali’s laboratory killed one of his nie’dama and cost another his eye.’

‘They had best be worth something,’ Asukaji wheezed. ‘You traded my black turban for the hostages. If they cannot buy back our son, then let it be my limbs.’

‘We cannot reveal such a weakness to my mother,’ Asome said. ‘She will find a way to twist it against us. The turban will be returned to you when you are healed. Baden thinks he is holding it for Kaji. He knows he cannot keep it forever.’

‘Do not underestimate Baden,’ Asukaji whispered. ‘I know how you get around Cashiv. He makes you stupid.’

‘I can handle Cashiv,’ Asome said.

‘That is what worries me.’

‘What does it matter?’ Asome growled. ‘We have gone to Baden’s parties with oil on our belts since we were in sharaj. You’ve lain with Cashiv as many times as I.’

‘It matters because I could please you, then,’ Asukaji said. ‘Because I was your Jiwah Ka , the first sheath for your spear.’

‘You still are,’ Asome said.

‘Then take me.’

‘Eh?’ Asome’s face slackened.

‘Now, before that cursed gruel runs through me,’ Asukaji begged. ‘Roll me onto my stomach and have me.’

‘Asukaji …’ Asome said.

‘No!’ There were tears in her brother’s eyes. ‘I cannot stop you lying with others, but I swear by Everam I will never swallow another spoonful if you cease to lie with me.’