THE BEAST IS staring at me.
Its head is tilted to one side. Tendrils of black smoke peel off its body. It considers me, like it’s trying to figure me out. Do the inisisa think? I wonder. What, by the Unnamed, could this one be thinking right now?
Bo lies on the floor behind me, completely still. But I think I can hear him breathing. That’s what I tell myself. He’s still breathing. He’s still breathing. He’s still alive.
I take a small step to the side, and the dragon turns its head. Looks me straight in the eye. It seems like it can only see me clearly when I move. I remember hearing about animals like this once. They could sniff you maybe, but it wouldn’t be till you tried to run away that they would find you. My daga handle is slick in my hand. Slowly, I tighten the strap around my wrist. I have no idea how much time has passed. But I need to move. I can’t move, but I need to.
Bo lets out a soft groan.
The sin-dragon tenses. I jump forward and twist, plunging my knife right into the nape of its neck.
Its roar echoes in my ears, rattling my brain. The dragon writhes beneath me, more fiercely than anything I’ve ever fought. Then, I’m flying.
When I hit the wall, I can hear the snap of bone. I fall to the floor with a thud. Taking a shaky breath in, I come up on one knee. Something wet and warm dribbles down the back of my neck. I put my hand to it, and my fingers come back red. I cough, and pain wracks my ribs.
The dragon looms over Bo’s body. My knife is still stuck in its neck. The inisisa convulses, barely holding itself together. Its inky body starts to become thin and patchy. I can see right through it. Tendrils of smoke rise up from its scales; its shape grows blurry and hard to discern.
I try to stand on my feet and can’t. My entire body aches. The dragon takes one step toward me. Then another. Then it dissolves.
In waves, its body loses form, and it turns completely to smoke.
Little exploding stars cloud my vision, and my head pounds. I put a hand to my forehead and stagger to my feet, checking for broken bones. But as soon as I stand upright, the sin slams into my throat like a spear pinning me to the wall. It’s never hurt this much before. I fight it, I try to swing at it, kick at it, break away, but I can’t. Tears stream down my cheeks. This time is different. This time, I can’t take it. I’m paralyzed. The sin has taken hold of me. Every bone in my body, every inch of skin, every muscle. I can feel it in my arms and fingers, in my legs and my toes. It fills the space between my ears and behind my eyes. Everything is going black.
Guilt squeezes my heart. I gag on the massive sin forcing itself into my body. I can feel the pain turning into a grief-filled kind of shame. It latches on to every thought running through my brain. Why didn’t I jump in to save Bo earlier? Why was I so cruel to Aliya? Why did I lie to Omar about how Eating gets easier with time? Why haven’t I sent more money to Mama and Baba? I feel guilty for every single step I took in the Forum, for hiding my skin from others.
Suddenly, it stops. I see Haris, the golden-haired princeling, standing in front of me. This is impossible. The one whose sin was burned into my forearm as a lion. I stumble toward him and reach my arm out for help. Or barring that, for him to cut me down. Any relief from this pain. The princeling is near enough to touch. He’s real. My fingers brush against the crest on the princeling’s chest, then he disappears.
I open my eyes, then begin hacking. There was no princeling. It was just a hallucination. That’s never happened before. Why was there someone else in King Kolade’s sin? And why did that sin change shape?
Light returns to the room as servants part the heavy red curtains. Everything is suddenly made of sunlight, and I have to shield my eyes. The sin turns in my stomach. I can barely hold it down. But I can breathe again. Finally.
Bo’s on his feet by now. Despite the pain thudding in my body and echoing through my mind, I can feel myself grinning. I knew it. He’s alive. He favors one leg over the other, and there’s a tiny stream of blood leaking down his face, but other than that, he seems like he came out of it in one piece. We both did.
Izu stands at King Kolade’s side. Looking at the king’s face, I can’t tell what he’s thinking, or whether he’s even processed what he just witnessed. He’s just as expressionless as that sin-dragon was. I stand straight. My back aches. Then, gingerly, I make my way to Bo and the others. It feels like I just got stomped on by a pack of bears . . . or, I guess, attacked by a ferocious dragon made up of evil and sin.
“Aren’t you glad I tagged along?” I say, trying to crack a smile. Son of a stone-sniffer. Everything hurts.
When I make it to Bo’s side, a servant rushes in holding a small gilt-edged box. The servant, standing before King Kolade, opens the box. Its contents glow so bright both the king’s face and the Mage’s are bathed in white. A small smile plays across Izu’s lips. Izu nods, and the servant closes the box and hands it to him.
I lean over to Bo and whisper, “That’s gonna feed us both for two months at least. Maybe three.” No matter how they split it for us, it’s gonna be a magnificent haul.
Izu, box in hand, heads for the door.
“Let’s go,” I say, and Bo and I trail behind him. My mouth is already watering at the thought of all the puff puff I’m going to buy at Zoe’s.
“Arrest them.”
I whip around, and King Kolade is standing there, arms folded across his chest. He glances at the Palace guards. “I said, arrest them.”
“What?” Bo hisses as the Palace guards each grab an arm. “What’s going on?” He winces. His bad leg almost gives out.
They drag my friend to the floor. Even as beat-up as he is, Bo can still fight, but there are too many of them, and they pin him.
Another group of guards bursts through the door. They’re coming straight for me.
“What’s going on?” Bo shouts, his face pressed to the tiles. The fight drains out of him, and he stops resisting. He has no energy left.
I look to Bo, then at Izu, who now stands in the doorway, his expression saying nothing at all. He turns and continues walking down the hall.
The guards are just a few paces away now.
“Run!” Bo shouts. “Run!” And for the second time in a half-moon’s time, he saves my life.
I snap out of my trance. I can hear the guards stomping after me. There’s nowhere to go. The guards are blocking the only exit. I look left, right, nothing but wall. The room is still in shambles from our fight with the dragon. No way to climb up to the ceilings.
The window.
I can’t think of how much everything hurts. I make a break for the window, running as fast as my lungs will let me. I jump and crash straight into the glass.
It shatters, and I’m flying through the air. It’s crisp and fresh in my lungs, cool on my face. My limbs swim through the air. Wind plasters my tattered clothes to my body. I land hard on the stone pathway connecting two palace towers. Guards at both ends turn at the commotion, see me, and begin marching forward.
Come on, Taj. Get up. I don’t even bother looking before I vault over the wall. In the air, I pray that the solid ground isn’t too far below me.
“Stop him!” guards shout. “Stop the aki!”
I hit the grass and roll down a small hill. When I stop, I hear the rushing of a shallow river. It courses, snakelike, through the gardens. I splash through it, and in the distance I see the main gates. The guards at the entrance have received the call to arms. A series of shouts echoes around me. I veer away from them and see a span of gate overgrown with vines where no guards have been stationed. I squeeze my body through the bars, bruising my ribs and tearing my clothes so that they are practically rags on my body.
Suddenly, I’m at the edge of a cliff formed by a man-made hill carved into the landscape. I chance a look behind me. More Palace guards.
I jump.