Read Online Sunbolt (The Sunbolt Chronicles) by Intisar Khanani - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Intisar Khanani
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their sister’s betrayal. Just as I will.
The soldiers had prepared well for their raid. Outside, we’re loaded into a prison carriage: a metal box on wheels, with one small, barred window in the rear door. Further on, a wagon waits to take away the dead.
“You can’t do this!” Saira cries as she is pushed up into the carriage behind me, her sister clinging to her in silence. “Stop! Master Blackflame promised—you weren’t supposed to kill anyone! Wait—where is my brother?”
She gets her answer a moment later when Tarek is shoved into the carriage, the door slammed shut behind him. Leaning my head back against the cold metal wall, I listen to the lock click. If I still had my lockpick set, picking it would have been a moment’s work.
Saira continues to rail against the soldiers, half-hysterical, until Tarek says, “Saira, stop. It’s no use. Stop. ”
His voice is low and weak, and I remember belatedly that he had been bleeding. If his wound hasn’t been bandaged, we’ll need to do something about it fast. I move towards him, sidling down the bench. Now that the carriage rattles along the road, I don’t trust myself to keep my balance. Not after the spell and the blow to my head.
I hesitate before I speak. They’ve all heard the Ghost’s voice, and with Saira’s betrayal as fresh as the blood on Tarek’s arm, I don’t want to risk anyone discovering I’m not him. Not until the Ghost has had enough time to escape.
I lower my voice to a whisper, barely loud enough for Tarek to hear me over the clatter of the carriage. “Where are you bleeding?”
“My arm. But they bound it for me.”
Saira makes a strangled sound.
“Shut up,” Tarek say tightly. “This is your fault. All of it. You killed them.”
“I didn’t!” Saira’s voice rises until it screeches in my ears. “No one was supposed to die! The soldiers weren’t supposed to attack us , just …”
“Just me,” I say, then berate myself for speaking aloud. I move back down the bench, training my gaze on the opposite wall.
“Why did you want to kill the Ghost?” Alia asks.
“I didn’t want—I just—it was a negotiation! Master Blackflame promised …” Saira shakes her head.
“Promised that he’d keep his political enemy safe if you handed over the Ghost? Oh, how he must have praised your smarts.” Tarek’s voice is heavy with sarcasm. “You’d save Mama and Baba from what? The sultan’s displeasure? While creating some amazing alliance with Blackflame?”
“The sultan wants Mama and Baba dead—”
“The sultan does what Blackflame wants!” Tarek is shouting now. “ Blackflame wanted them dead, and you gave him the perfect opportunity to kill them and catch the leader of the Shadow League at the same time.”
“No,” Saira whispers. “He promised …”
“And you believed him.” Tarek’s words drip disdain.
Saira doesn’t answer.
As I had half-expected, instead of taking us to the city prison, we’re admitted through the gates to Blackflame’s private residence. Why take us to the sultan’s prison when Karolene’s Arch Mage is the true power? He meets us in the courtyard, smiling as if he has just been given a gift. And he has, I think grimly.
The soldiers haul me out of the carriage and shove me to my knees. I try not to wince as I hit the cobbles. Blackflame stands a few paces away, watching the spectacle of his prisoners being unloaded with undisguised pleasure.
Wilhelm Blackflame looks nothing like his mage-name would suggest. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with a thick mane of golden hair that curls where it brushes his shoulders. His skin shows pale, marking him a northerner. He is naturally strong, neither big-muscled nor going to fat. With his wide forehead, defined jaw, and cleft chin, his features are a little too strong for beauty. But what his body fails to show and his mage-name only implies is this: the pure magical power lurking behind his eyes.
The soldiers had prepared well for their raid. Outside, we’re loaded into a prison carriage: a metal box on wheels, with one small, barred window in the rear door. Further on, a wagon waits to take away the dead.
“You can’t do this!” Saira cries as she is pushed up into the carriage behind me, her sister clinging to her in silence. “Stop! Master Blackflame promised—you weren’t supposed to kill anyone! Wait—where is my brother?”
She gets her answer a moment later when Tarek is shoved into the carriage, the door slammed shut behind him. Leaning my head back against the cold metal wall, I listen to the lock click. If I still had my lockpick set, picking it would have been a moment’s work.
Saira continues to rail against the soldiers, half-hysterical, until Tarek says, “Saira, stop. It’s no use. Stop. ”
His voice is low and weak, and I remember belatedly that he had been bleeding. If his wound hasn’t been bandaged, we’ll need to do something about it fast. I move towards him, sidling down the bench. Now that the carriage rattles along the road, I don’t trust myself to keep my balance. Not after the spell and the blow to my head.
I hesitate before I speak. They’ve all heard the Ghost’s voice, and with Saira’s betrayal as fresh as the blood on Tarek’s arm, I don’t want to risk anyone discovering I’m not him. Not until the Ghost has had enough time to escape.
I lower my voice to a whisper, barely loud enough for Tarek to hear me over the clatter of the carriage. “Where are you bleeding?”
“My arm. But they bound it for me.”
Saira makes a strangled sound.
“Shut up,” Tarek say tightly. “This is your fault. All of it. You killed them.”
“I didn’t!” Saira’s voice rises until it screeches in my ears. “No one was supposed to die! The soldiers weren’t supposed to attack us , just …”
“Just me,” I say, then berate myself for speaking aloud. I move back down the bench, training my gaze on the opposite wall.
“Why did you want to kill the Ghost?” Alia asks.
“I didn’t want—I just—it was a negotiation! Master Blackflame promised …” Saira shakes her head.
“Promised that he’d keep his political enemy safe if you handed over the Ghost? Oh, how he must have praised your smarts.” Tarek’s voice is heavy with sarcasm. “You’d save Mama and Baba from what? The sultan’s displeasure? While creating some amazing alliance with Blackflame?”
“The sultan wants Mama and Baba dead—”
“The sultan does what Blackflame wants!” Tarek is shouting now. “ Blackflame wanted them dead, and you gave him the perfect opportunity to kill them and catch the leader of the Shadow League at the same time.”
“No,” Saira whispers. “He promised …”
“And you believed him.” Tarek’s words drip disdain.
Saira doesn’t answer.
As I had half-expected, instead of taking us to the city prison, we’re admitted through the gates to Blackflame’s private residence. Why take us to the sultan’s prison when Karolene’s Arch Mage is the true power? He meets us in the courtyard, smiling as if he has just been given a gift. And he has, I think grimly.
The soldiers haul me out of the carriage and shove me to my knees. I try not to wince as I hit the cobbles. Blackflame stands a few paces away, watching the spectacle of his prisoners being unloaded with undisguised pleasure.
Wilhelm Blackflame looks nothing like his mage-name would suggest. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with a thick mane of golden hair that curls where it brushes his shoulders. His skin shows pale, marking him a northerner. He is naturally strong, neither big-muscled nor going to fat. With his wide forehead, defined jaw, and cleft chin, his features are a little too strong for beauty. But what his body fails to show and his mage-name only implies is this: the pure magical power lurking behind his eyes.
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