A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) - Sabaa Tahir Page 0,79

or infirmary. But for whom? Do jinn even catch illnesses? When I lived with Shaeva, she never so much as sneezed.

I inch closer, and at that moment, two shapes plummet out of the sky, thundering down to the street just yards away.

One is Umber in her shadow form, glaive clutched tight. The other is the dark-eyed, dark-skinned jinn who accompanied her before—Talis.

Umber collapses upon landing, her flame body dim and flaking to ash. I am surprised. She certainly did not seem so weak when she was trying to kill me.

“Surfraaz!” Talis calls out, and another jinn, pale with a jutting chin and dark hair, runs from the infirmary.

“I told you not to let her fight!” Surfraaz snaps. “Look at her—”

“You try telling Umber no.” Talis struggles to stand, and Surfraaz grabs Umber’s other side. Together, they carry her into the courtyard. “She faded too fast,” Talis says. “This time, we need to keep her unconscious for a day or two, lest she—”

His words fade as he disappears from sight. Curiosity tempts me to follow, but I dare not risk being spotted. Instead, I sneak out of the archway and back the way I came. This city is vast. If there is one infirmary, there will be another, where I can figure out what is going on.

“Who are you?”

The speaker appears without warning, from a doorway I nearly walked past. It is a jinn woman regarding me with curiosity instead of rancor. She tilts her head, auburn hair falling in a waterfall down her back.

“You smell strange.” She sniffs at the air but does not look directly into my eyes, which is when I realize that she is at least partially blind. “Very strange indeed—”

I take a step back. Her hand shoots out and closes on my wrist. She hisses.

“Human!” she screams. “Intruder!”

I wrench away and windwalk, streaking through the streets. But the jinn can ride the winds too, and in less than a minute, a half dozen trail me, their fingers clawing at my back and shoulders. “Usurper!” they scream, and their voices are layered, an echo that bounces between the walls until it seems as if the city itself is hunting me.

One of them grabs my wrist and unleashes its fire. Mauth’s magic does not protect me in time. Pain bursts through my arm, and I stumble out of my windwalk, rolling to a stop at the border of the jinn city. The land flattens out into a large, empty plain before hitting a low escarpment. At the top: the jinn grove. It’s a good quarter mile distant, but if I can make it there, the jinn may back off. They hate the grove.

When I scramble to my feet, though, the jinn trailing me are gone.

All but one.

Talis holds a Serric steel dagger loosely in one hand, his stance indicating both that the steel does not affect him and that he knows how to use the blade. He watches me with the curiosity one reserves for an unfamiliar if not particularly threatening dog.

I tug Mauth’s magic into a shield, but it responds listlessly, like it can’t decide if it wants to wake up or not. When the jinn approaches, I back away. I don’t fear him. But I’m not an idiot either. I can still bleed. Still die. And Talis knows it.

“Our father’s magic fades.” Talis circles, taking my measure. “Mauth is locked in a battle with the Meherya, and I fear Mauth will lose.”

“Mauth is Death. For the living, death is the only guarantee. It cannot be defeated.”

“You are wrong,” Talis says. “There are many things more powerful than death. Your kind wax eloquent about them in song and ballads and poetry.”

“Love,” I say. “Hope. Memory.”

“Sorrow. Despair. Rage.” Talis considers me, then casts his dagger aside. “Fear not, Soul Catcher. I used my magic on my brethren. The jinn who followed you are convinced you’re on the other side of the city.”

“What do you want?” I ask. “Unless you sent them chasing after a fake Soul Catcher out of the kindness of your heart?”

“To speak with you,” the jinn says. “Without rancor or dissemblance.”

At my hesitation, he throws up his hands. “If I’d wished to harm you, I’d have done it while you eavesdropped. Dozens of jinn lay steps away, all of whom would have loved to see you dead.”

“Dozens of jinn who can barely muster their power, apparently.”

Talis’s back goes rigid. Interesting. “What are you doing in the Sher Jinnaat, Soul Catcher?” he asks.

Sher Jinnaat. The City