A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) - Sabaa Tahir Page 0,96

not just to kill us.”

Now Shan speaks up. “Her Empire has need of slaves. She killed too many during the Scholar purges.”

“We have a treaty with them—” a voice calls out, but Mamie snorts.

“Keris sold her own city to the Karkauns,” she says. “Do you think treaties mean anything to her?”

“We should fight,” Gibran says. “If the cost of staying in the Tribal lands is too high for the Martials, they’ll leave. Keris has another enemy to the north. The Blood Shrike and her nephew.”

“Yes, but if Keris defeats her,” Afya says, “she’ll send her armies back for us. Then what? Do we keep fighting? Living in canyons and gulches? When will it end?”

The crowd shifts, small conversations and arguments breaking out and echoing off the canyon walls. I am losing them.

Then a dark-haired, gold-eyed figure steps from the crowd into the firelight. She wears an embroidered Tribal tunic that brushes her knees, and her hair is freshly braided.

Fate will always lead you back to her, for good or for ill.

“Laia.” Mamie Rila is by her side instantly. “You should be resting—” But Laia shakes her head, a new sadness rounding her shoulders.

“All this sorrow. This suffering.” Her gold eyes fix on me. “All of it is because of the Nightbringer. Afya asks when will it end. It will end when the king of the jinn is dead.”

The Tribes nod and mutter in agreement.

“Killing him is not simple,” she says. “It will require the theft of a weapon he carries, and powerful magic. Until we can get that weapon, we must find other ways to hinder him. Stripping him of his allies is one such way. Keris is his strongest ally. To that end, Elias’s plan is sound. And he knows the Martials. He knows how they think. With him, we have a chance at victory.”

The Tribespeople glance at each other when she uses my old name, though I spot Mamie hiding a smile. I consider correcting Laia, but she has them mesmerized, so I keep silent.

“The Martials crushed my people,” she says. “Keris would do the same to you. And her master, the Nightbringer, would inflict that indignity upon your dead. So do we stand with the Banu al-Mauth and fight them? Or do we roll over like cowed dogs and let them do what they want with us?”

“Tribe Saif will fight.” My foster brother stands, but he doesn’t look at me. “For our land and our dead.”

“Tribe Nur will fight,” Afya says after a nudge from her brother. “If the other Tribes join,” she adds.

“Tribe Nasur will fight.” A silver-haired Zaldar steps forward. “And if the Banu al-Mauth’s plan works, we will continue fighting. If not . . .” He shrugs.

The sentiment spreads, and one by one, the Tribes agree to my plan. Laia turns to me, tilting her head as if to say, What next?

“We’ll meet in the morning,” I say. “To discuss the first attack.”

As the group breaks up, Laia approaches. She looks exhausted, covered in scratches and cuts, with a large bruise on the side of her face. I get an odd prickly feeling in my chest.

She puts her hand to it when she sees me looking. “It was a river,” she says. “So unless you strangle a force of nature, you cannot do much. Besides, you’re the one who left me stranded in the desert. If you want to be angry at someone, go find a mirror.”

“I am sorry. But—”

“No.” She puts a finger to my lips. “I am sorry was the perfect place to stop.”

She stands close enough for me to see the myriad tiny scratches all over her face. I brush my fingers against one lightly.

“The river that did this to you,” I say. “I don’t like it.”

Her smile is a lightning flash in the dark. “Are you going to find the bad river, Elias? Make it pay?”

“It’s Soul Catcher. And yes.” My thoughts toward this river turn baleful. “Maybe I can divert it down a canyon, or—”

The fire turns her gold eyes molten, and she throws back her head and laughs. Watching her is like watching a waterfall thundering down a gorge. Like watching the Northern Dancers illuminate the sky. I cannot describe it. I only know that a tightness in my chest loosens, and I am different—lighter—for witnessing it.

“That’s good,” she says. “That’s a start.”

“It will be a hard fight.” I force my thoughts toward the challenge that lies ahead. “Keris is a wily enemy.”

Laia holds up a scroll. “I’ve