“I can change you back into the monsters you were cursed to be and let them run you through with their weapons,” Benyamin continued, gesturing to the others, “or you may leave us and remain in human form.”
The tension crackled.
The hairs on the back of Nasir’s neck stood on end.
“Why have you come?” the kaftar asked.
“A shadow stirs,” Benyamin ceded. “Arawiya darkens.”
“You panic, Alder.” The kaftar stepped forward. His eyes glowed with barely contained savagery.
“The Jawarat will not remain lost much longer.”
This time alarm befell the kaftar, and Nasir felt a cold grip in his chest at the reminder: whatever tome this Jawarat was, it was more than an answer to the disappearance of magic. The kaftar stared longingly at Altair, inhaling deep, and Nasir nearly stepped between them, but Kifah moved first, crossing her arms.
After a long moment, the kaftar stepped back, and his brethren mimicked his movements.
“Take your leave, Alder. Whistle, and my pack might assist.” His gaze drifted to Kifah before it settled on the Huntress, roving across her form. Nasir wanted to cut him down where he stood. “But the cursed take no oaths and make no promises.”
CHAPTER 57
Nasir turned his back on the kaftar with heavy reluctance. He never left a threat breathing. He hardly left the innocent breathing. His blood still boiled from the way the lead kaftar had nearly undressed the Huntress with his wandering gaze.
Which was why, the moment they had distanced themselves from the wily creatures, something in Nasir’s calm snapped. He shoved Altair aside and flung Benyamin against a remnant of a wall, a plume of dust showering them from above.
Everyone froze.
Altair laughed. “I was waiting for this. Habibi Kifah, you owe me that spear.”
“The only way you’ll ever touch my spear is when I shove it through your throat,” Kifah snapped.
“Charming. Then you owe me that gold cuff.”
“Go sink yourself.”
Nasir brought his face close to Benyamin’s, who stared back without a hint of emotion. “First you convince everyone to traipse behind you, and then you befriend the foe of Sharr? Next you’ll be holding hands with ifrit.”
Benyamin didn’t answer.
“Ten paces down this very desert, the kaftar could be waiting to kill us for your kindness.”
The safi’s face turned mocking. “Like you? You know, I keep wondering when you’ll do the same, yet you continue following me around.” He worried his lip. “Laa, you just keep traipsing behind me.”
Nasir growled. “I’m not following you. No one is following you. Thanks to your big mouth, everyone is following the Demenhune.”
A small click of metal punctuated his words, and Altair yanked Nasir back, easing the gauntlet blade back down.
“Come now, Nasir. You’re ruining his keffiyah.”
Nasir shrugged him off but kept his distance with narrowed eyes.
“Why are you really here, safi?” Nasir said, voice low. “Your lot has evolved past magic. You can live perfectly fine without it.”
“I could ask the same of you. What need does Sultan Ghameq have for the Jawarat when the Demenhune intends to use it to return magic to the same kingdom he governs?”
Nasir gritted his teeth in the sudden silence. His neck burned.
Because he did not know.