Jase dropped his sword and daggers to the ground and was ordered to unload his launcher as well. No ammunition fell out. Banques smiled, knowing we were out of ammo too. He waved Jase forward.
I watched him walk away, keeping his promise, Mason a few steps behind him. But Montegue won’t keep his promises, Jase! You know that! Panic overtook me. A path reeling out of control. We had a plan, Patrei. Remember? Things that you would do. Things that I would do. And things we would do together. This was not part of our plan! Jase! Stop! Please.
“Montegue!” I screamed. “I will kill you! I will use your own magic to kill you! I—”
Shhh, Kazi.
The world bobbed. Blurred. The madness slowed. My heart slowed.
There is magic in everything, only you must watch for it. It does not come from spells or potions or the sky, nor by special delivery of the gods. It is all around you.
I searched, but I couldn’t see magic. Only a monster winning.
Shhh.
You must find the magic that curls in your gut with fierce power and will not let you give up.
Hear the language that isn’t spoken, Kazi, the breaths, the pauses, the fisted hands, the vacant stares, the twitches and tears …
I scanned the street, like I was in the jehendra, desperate and hungry and searching for opportunity, gauging every twitch, every glance—the mercenaries shifting on their feet, either eager to fight or eager to run; the archers, their eyes jumping from one side of the crowd to the other, nervous; the traitors to the left of Banques, their shoulders loose, smug, sharing easy whispers with one another; Zane on Banques’s right, his hands relaxed at his sides, a satisfied smirk pulling at his mouth; Garvin the same, because it was all just a business transaction; but then Truko on the end, a step apart, his shoulders rigid, his eyes unblinking, staring at Jase. He wore two swords the way Griz did, his hand on the hilt of one of them.
… for everyone can hear spoken words, but only a few can hear the heart that beats behind them.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
JASE
Montegue placed Jalaine in my arms. The faintest groan shook her chest as she was jostled between us. Ten steps back to Mason, that was all I was allowed.
I turned, holding her in the middle of the street, away from everyone. She was a feather in my arms, my little sister who had been the fire in our family. Her broken bones rippled against my touch.
“Jalaine,” I whispered. “It’s Jase.”
She struggled to open her eyes, her lids heavy and rimmed with red, but then her gaze locked onto mine. Her cracked lips moved, mouthing my name, but there was no sound.
I brought my face closer to hers. “Sister. I’m taking you back to Mother. The family.”
“You got my note?” she whispered.
“Yes,” I answered. “I came as soon as I could.”
“I knew you would. The family is safe?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Good.” Her eyes briefly closed. “Jase?”
“I’m here.”
“Bury me next to Sylvey.”
My throat ached like a fist had twisted it into a knot.
How could she know? I pulled her close, my chest shaking. Stop talking like that, sister. You’re going to be fine! Fine!
Her eyes remained fixed on me, waiting for an answer. I couldn’t lie. Not this time. I finally nodded and cleared my throat. “I will. I love you, Jalaine.”
“I know, brother.” Her voice was as fragile as a cobweb, like a gust of wind would steal it away from me at any moment.