The Final Strife - Page 135

“You are the worst fucking partner in crime I have ever worked with.”

Anoor lay panting on the floor, but she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “So we’re partners in crime now? Can I give you a nickname?”

Sylah held back the spit that worked its way around her mouth. “Come on, kori bird. Let’s go raid the warden library.”

“Why am I a kori?”

“Have you ever seen a kori caught in a tidewind? They pin their wings to their side and stop flying. Just let the tidewind take them.”

Anoor was giggling.

“I’m not that stupid.”

“Present circumstances contradict that statement…”

“Hey! Okay, well, if I’m a kori, then you’re…you’re”—she looked Sylah up and down, and Sylah waited patiently for the insult—“a tall joba tree!” she finished, pointing her finger with a flourish.

“Impressive wordplay there.” Sylah chuckled. “Shh.” She held out a hand, pausing their footsteps.

“What?”

“I said shh.” Sylah could hear talking up ahead. “Let me go check,” she mouthed to Anoor, who nodded, her face shrouded in fear. Sylah crept ahead, toward the light she saw leaking out of the crack in a door. She heard murmuring and instinctively leaped away in sure, easy gallops.

“Pura’s in his office. He’s talking to someone. We need to be really quiet as we go past,” Sylah said, panting.

They crept past the Warden of Truth’s door. It was slightly ajar and Sylah paused, listening in. Anoor pulled on her sleeve, but there was no budging her.

“Well, if the tidewind gets much worse, we’ll have to impose a curfew. Maybe bring forward the Day of Ascent. Ten Nowerks died last night.” Pura, the Warden of Truth, spoke softly, his deep voice an incessant hum.

“Let a few more of them die. It is their own fault for not finding shelter.”

Sylah recognized the voice of the Warden of Duty, Aveed.

“Change is coming, Aveed. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel the tidewind’s shake?”

“Yes, I feel it.” Aveed exhaled.

“I think we have a year at the most,” Pura said.

“Before what?”

“Before we are under siege from the sky.”

“Anyme help us.” Aveed’s voice wobbled.

“If Anyme could help us, they would have by now. Instead, the tidewind gets worse day by day, and no amount of sacrifice to Anyme will stop it…”

“Maybe it is just a bad season.”

“Yes, let us hope.”

Sylah remembered the last “bad season” two years ago. The tidewind wasn’t as strong as it was now.

“Sylah!” Anoor hissed and practically dragged Sylah away from the door just in time. Aveed swung it open, red runelight pooling out into the corridor. Anoor had pushed Sylah into the alcove of her mother’s study door, hoping Aveed would turn the other way.

Their bodies were pressed tightly together as if it might make their bulk suddenly become invisible. Unfortunately, Aveed, Warden of Duty, turned precisely toward the way they had come. In seconds Aveed would see their bodies pressed against the door.

“Aveed,” Pura called. “Have you filled the Keep’s supply cache?” The question paused Aveed long enough for Anoor and Sylah to untie their limbs from each other and scuttle down the corridor. They needed somewhere to hide.

Tags: Saara El-Arifi Fantasy
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