The Final Strife

Sylah’s brain was frazzled.

“And I’m guessing people can’t just watch?”

“The court? No.” Anoor laughed. “Though I expect it’s as dull as this.”

Sylah wasn’t so sure.

“Is there any documentation of what happens at court? Does anyone, you know, share the details?”

Someone in the row ahead hissed at them to be quiet. He had the fevered expression of a gambling man. That was one way to make the trial more interesting.

“Well?” Sylah pressed, ignoring the dirty looks from in front.

“There are documents from the Noble Court, forms and such—you can find them in the Keep’s library. But the Upper Court…the only thing that covers that would be the journals in the warden library.” Anoor shivered from an invisible breeze.

Sylah sat up straighter. “The warden library?”

Why hadn’t she thought of asking Anoor before? Had she so readily forgotten that the girl had been raised as Uka’s daughter?

“Yes, it’s locked with bloodwerk runes, attuned to the blood of the wardens and their disciples.”

Perfect. And because Uka was Sylah’s real mother…blood recognizes blood.

“Why do you want to know all this?” Anoor asked, suspicion marring her brow.

“Just think it might be important to know what your future could look like.” The lie came out easily, but Sylah didn’t remember feeling a pang of guilt before.

Sylah stretched her arms above her head. “I’ve got to go. Remembered something I haven’t done for Gorn.”

Anoor let out a relieved sigh. “Anyme, yes, my bottom is numb.”

—

It took Sylah four tries to find the warden library. She wasn’t as familiar with the western side of the Keep and the busybodies who rushed past her every which way. She’d had to press herself against the wall more than once as an imir escorted by an entourage of officers made their way to the Noble Court. The trial of tax had long finished by the time she found it.

Now she stood in front of the stone door, her tongue between her teeth as she tried to understand the bloodwerk runes that marked it. Anoor was only halfway through teaching her the supplementary runes that could manipulate the four foundational runes. Supplementary runes influenced the forces of bloodwerk with directions, activations, safety, and protection. They were part of the language that built the Book of Blood. There was so much she could do to customize the push and pull of bloodwerk.

“What are you doing?”

The voice made her jump. It was cool, light. The last time she had heard it, it had been announcing the trial of aerofield.

“Are you deaf, servant?” Uka stood in the doorway of her office across the way. Sylah hadn’t realized it was her office until she noticed the family portrait hanging beyond Uka’s gray afro.

“Hello?”

Here was her mother, ten handspans away, and she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Her gray outfit of the day was a patterned blouse and loose trousers. She was pretty, prettier than Sylah had realized, as her face was often puckered in a frown. Sylah looked for a resemblance.

She hadn’t been sure what she was going to feel when she finally came face-to-face with her mother. Hate—for all the Dusters and Ghostings she had killed across the empire. Or love—for being the daughter she brought to term.

Sylah hadn’t been prepared for indifference. For pity.

The Sandstorm are going to kill you and everyone like you.

“I got lost, I’ll be on my way, Warden.” The prickling of a tremor began in the center of her back and traveled down her arms. She clasped her hands in front of her to hide it.

“Be on your way then,” was the only thing her mother responded with before turning on her heel and shutting her office door. Sylah set her shaking limbs moving.

Her tongue probed the empty space where a joba seed shouldbe.