A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) - Sabaa Tahir Page 0,95

ghost. Trying desperately to stop him, and the fear that in doing so, I’d damaged him irrevocably.

Mamie Rila arrives with a cauldron of tea and passes cups around to ward off the chill wind blowing in from the north. She nods silently to me, but keeps her distance. A tall man steps out from beside her. His curly hair is half-hidden beneath a scarf, and his skin is lighter than mine. He closes the distance between us in two steps, arms wide for a hug.

“Ilyaas—brother—”

I extricate myself from him carefully.

“Ilyaas,” he says. “It’s me—Shan—”

I know the name now. He is my foster brother. Mamie’s other adopted child. I nod at him stiffly. He wears the tattoos of a Zaldar, freshly inked. Behind him are other faces I recognize. Mamie’s cousins and brothers, her nephews and nieces. My old family.

They eye me with awe and a touch of wariness. Only Shan looks at me like I am one of them.

Mamie Rila touches his arm gently, whispering something into his ear, and his smile fades. After a few moments, he steps back. “Forgive me, Banu al-Mauth,” he says. “If I overstepped.”

You didn’t, the trapped voice inside me calls out. I crush it.

“Fakira Ara-Nasur.” I find Aubarit speaking to Gibran. “Is everyone here?”

At her nod, I look out at the crowd. Conversations hush, and the only sound is the sand susurrating restlessly against the canyon walls.

“The Nightbringer steals spirits,” I say. “He keeps them from crossing over.”

Gasps arise and Aubarit looks sick. Afya Ara-Nur’s hand goes to the blade at her waist. “Those in Aish—” she says. “All of our dead?”

I nod. “All have been taken, and—” I stop before mentioning the maelstrom, my old Blackcliff training kicking in. Share only what is necessary. Telling them what the Nightbringer is using those spirits for will frighten them. And frightened people make poor foot soldiers.

“Why?” Mamie Rila says softly, her tea forgotten in her hands. “Why do such a horrible thing?”

“The jinns’ strength is more limited than it appears.” I let them draw their own conclusions. “They are powerful, yes, but in short bursts only. When their power is spent, they heal slowly. A side effect of their imprisonment, perhaps.”

“So—they are feeding off the spirits?” Shan says.

“In a manner of speaking,” I say. “The Nightbringer seems to want ghosts who have suffered. Those who would have come to the Waiting Place. That is why it is empty. He is taking them.”

“But what does he do with them?” A young Fakir I don’t recognize speaks up from the back of the crowd. I can barely see him—the torchlight near Aubarit’s wagon does not extend so far.

“I do not yet know,” I say, because Talis did not explain the mechanics of the Nightbringer’s plan. “But the jinn need the ghosts, which means they need dead humans. The jinn terrify a city, make a populace panic and capitulate. Keris Veturia sends her army in to butcher at will. The Nightbringer gets his suffering, and Keris claims another city.”

“What can we do against the jinn?” Gibran says, and his sister answers.

“It’s not the jinn we’re after.” She glances at me. “You want the Martials. If the jinn don’t have their foot soldiers, there would be less butchering. Less suffering. Fewer ghosts for the Nightbringer to steal.”

Beyond the ring of Zaldars and Fakirs and Kehannis, the crowd expands. Their fear spreads like an insidious fog.

“If we battle the Martials,” Mamie Rila says, “will that not simply make more ghosts?”

“Soldiers rarely enter the Waiting Place,” I tell her. “Especially Martial soldiers. Perhaps because they go to battle prepared for death. In any case, it is suffering the Nightbringer wants. Agony. We won’t give it to him.”

“What do you propose?” Shan asks.

“We fight.” My hands fist and my battle rage stirs, restless in my blood. “We attack in small groups, insurgency style. We aim for their food stores, their livestock, and supplies. We empty out the villages in their path. If Keris’s men are going to walk lands that do not belong to them, we can make that walk as difficult as possible. And we can do it without creating a glut of new ghosts for the Nightbringer to thieve.”

“Why not empty our cities?” Afya says. “Scatter into the desert and the Serran Range? The Nightbringer wants death, no? We could simply deny him that by hiding.”

“How long will you hide for?” Mamie says. “Keris Veturia will not give up. It might take longer, but she will hunt us down. And