On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [100]
Kevla struggled with the burned remains of the rope, and just as he reached her she pulled the last blackened coil free. He stumbled on the burned branches that cracked and gave beneath his weight and she caught him before he fell. For an instant they clung fiercely to one another. Then Jashemi whirled, grasping Kevla by the hand. He felt the remaining heat start to scorch his sandals and breeches, and held his breath against the choking smoke. He looked frantically for a mount, knowing his was too exhausted to continue. If he did not find one—
He spied a sa’abah on the edge of the crowd. It wore the livery of the House of Four Waters and probably belonged to one of the guards. Jashemi and Kevla sprinted for the beast.
The crowd was starting to recover from its shock. Tahmu’s voice rang out and Jashemi faltered for just an instant.
“Stop, Jashemi! Return the kuli for punishment! It is the law!”
He clenched his jaw and kept running. The law and everyone who would enforce it be cursed. He would die before he let anyone hurt Kevla. At the same time, he felt a stab of pain as he realized that his father had authorized this, had likely ordered it; had spoken the words that would send his own daughter to the flames.
Father, how could you?
They barely made it to the sa’abah before strong hands clapped down on Jashemi’s shoulders. He let go of Kevla, who quickly scrambled atop the animal.
Other guards were coming. “Go!” Jashemi cried.
“Not without you!” Kevla screamed, reaching a hand down to him. Her once-carefully guarded expression was as naked as her body now, and in it he saw love and fear commingled. His heart surged. With renewed strength, Jashemi twisted in the guard’s grip, turned sharply, and yanked the man’s arm behind his back. The guard cried out and dropped like a stone. In an instant, Jashemi had leaped onto the sa’abah, pulled its head around, and sped down the road, Kevla behind him holding on for dear life.
Tahmu watched them go. Emotions warred within him: relief that Kevla was alive, pride in his son for rescuing his sister, worry that he had permitted a demon to live.
“What are you doing?” snarled Yeshi in his ear. She was furious, her color high, her teeth bared. “Go after them!”
“Yeshi, I—”
She swore, then composed herself. Very loudly, she said, “Yes, my husband, you are right!”
Tahmu stared at her, not comprehending.
“You and your Second must indeed make haste and ride after the kuli. She has turned the flames to be her allies; you must kill her yourselves.”
Tahmu couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but what she said next took the breath out of him.
“And what is truly tragic is that she has obviously cursed our beautiful son Jashemi as well,” Yeshi said theatrically. “Now, he, too, must die.”
He could only stare. Had be truly been so blind as to not see what hatred of her former rival had done to her? Could she really have sunk so deeply into her jealousy and pain that she would condemn not only Kevla, but the son she had once loved above all things?
“They are no longer children,” she continued, “but things of evil. If they are permitted to go free, think of the harm they will do! My husband, painful as it is, you must slay both of them. Otherwise, anything they do will be your responsibility. The other clans will blame the Clan of Four Waters, and they will unite against you and bring you down.”
She smiled then, a satisfied, hateful smile, and he wished he could strike her down where she stood.
How could he hunt his own children, murder them in cold blood? No ordinary person could command fire, or have survived such a conflagration unscathed, this much was true. Also true was that in freeing his condemned sister, Jashemi had gone against the law and his life was forfeit. Yet the girl who admitted her own guilt seemed so unlike a demon that he wondered if perhaps Sahlik was right—that this had nothing to do with kulis and everything to do with a warning.
The Dragon was angry with Tahmu, that much was certain, but for what? Conceiving