Aisha woke up into a bed that wasn't her own.
What? Where am I?
Her head pounded, her thoughts pulled together like a convergence of snails.
White curtains hung around her like suffocating walls. A nightstand sat next to her bed, a vase of drooping flowers on top of it. Her satchel was there too, she would have to see if her essay and the missive were still there later.
Aisha immediately knew where she was, although the words were slow to form in her mind.
An infirmary.
Pain shot through Aisha, mostly radiating from her back. She had slept on her side—which she immediately decided was infinitely better than sleeping on her back, right now.
Aisha pushed herself up into a sitting position. It took far more effort than she wanted to admit and took longer than it should have.
Aisha groaned, bringing a hand to her back. She wore some sort of infirmary gown, basalt cloth covering her back. She felt a layer of bandages beneath it.
Right. She had fought those mages, and had come out of there alive. Oh, but those mages hadn’t. She had killed people—two. By . . . breaking the necks of their frozen bodies. Eugh . . . Queasiness rose inside Aisha while her stomach dropped. A pit formed in her chest, deep and dark and consuming. This . . . she couldn’t think about this now.
The others in the caravan must have picked her up and brought her back.
A nurse wandered by, in front of Aisha. Each bed was divided from each other by a curtain. A central pathway led between the beds.
“Oh thank Heliux,” she whispered. “She's up. Oh, she's up!”
The nurse glanced back and forth along the path, as if deciding frantically which way to go and what to do.
She looked towards Aisha. “I will come back!”
She darted through the path and out of Aisha's view. Aisha scratched her head at the nurse’s personality, but thought nothing more of it.
The nurse did, indeed, come back. Maybe ten minutes later, she arrived with three other people in tow.
Rafiq, Zawar, and the aeolian mage from the caravan, which was a surprise—seeing the aeolian mage there, not so much Rafiq and Zawar. In fact, Aisha would have been disappointed had those two not shown up. Ten minutes . . . they must have been waiting around, or nearby? Maybe it was enough time to send a courier, and for them to immediately drop everything and see her? They . . . they cared for her.
“Rafiq” Aisha exclaimed. It came out as a croak.
Rafiq's eyes were glazed over by concern. Zawar somehow looked even more distraught.
The aeolian mage just smiled. Which was a weird reaction.
Oh, wait. Crutches supported the aeolian mage. Had he been injured too at some point? . . .
Aisha’s gaze drifted lower. Yikes. He was missing his left leg up to his knee.
Aisha’s expression dropped. “Aeolian mage! What happened!?”
“It's Fazl, and sand sharks happened.”
O-oh. Oh. “I’m so sorry!”
“Yeah, don't worry,” the aeolian mage—Fazl—winced. “Just glad we made it out alive in—more or less—pieces . . . irretrievable pieces, in my case.”
“Is everyone else okay?”
“For the most part. I got unlucky.”
Aisha sat there in silence. Rafiq's and Zawar's faces dropped even further. A solemnity of loss choked the room.
Aisha moved around all her body parts just to make sure she was still in one piece—she wriggled all her toes—she was. No sand sharks had attempted to eat her alive in the absence of her consciousness . . . or they had tried but failed.
“Thank you, Fazl,” Aisha said.
Fazl raised an eyebrow. “For? . . .”
“Getting us all back alive.”
“Oh . . . ah . . . You’re welcome?”
Sanya looked from Fazl to Raafiq. “Rafiq, how is it?”
Zawar swallowed.
“You've been out for almost a day,” Fazl said.
“I—what,” Aisha almost choked on air.
She had been out for a day? Her wounds had been that bad? She had taxed herself that much?
More importantly, how many years did I age with those powerful spells? Had I balanced their backlash? I don’t think I had . . .
Rafiq cleared his throat. “Rais of Jawdat, His Highness the Second Prince of Glorestra, is now bones and dust in a coffin waiting for a procession.”
“That's what I thought,” Aisha nodded. “Assassination?”
“Well, you were compromised and could not provide your mana-sight services, but it is doubtless that sabotage was at play.”
“We have known ever since the missives were swapped.”
“Yes.”
“So now it's a matter of who.”
Rafiq paused. “We already know who. The king has been unfit to rule for a year. His Highness Jalal Of-Ghalib, the First Prince, is acting regent. The queen is dead.”
“And now the Second Prince can no longer contend for the royal seat,” Aisha's eyes widened. Although, not as much as they should have. She had expected this. “That piece of—”
Rafiq cleared his throat. “Maybe don't speak of this in front of a nurse and an aeolian mage caught in the stray?”
That scorpion-spit! Once Aisha got the chance, she was going to personally strangle the First Prince . . . and end the royal bloodline with it? Huh. She could kill two vultures with one stone . . . Ah, she was planning a regicide already . . . Aisha fantasized about beating the First Prince into a pulp.
“Do you think he tried to kill me?”
“That, I do not know,” Rafiq paused and seemed to consider something. “Oh—and the metal merchant, Jad Of-Rayan, is missing. Presumed dead.
Aisha blinked. Was someone killing witnesses to cover things up? “What of the guards? Are they alive? Accounted for?
Rafiq's eyes widened, shaking his head. “I didn't think about that. I'll look for them.”
“Rafiq. Does this mean your life is in danger, too? If someone is targeting witnesses of those mages?”
Rafiq frowned. “My life is always in danger . . . but yes, maybe you're on to something.”
As the top legislature, people definitely pointed weapons and poisons at Rafiq, as well as words and slander. His position was one to covet.
Aisha looked at her satchel. “I hate to leave Glorestra when things are getting serious, but . . .”
Aisha reached for her satchel. No, wait. Maybe if things were getting bad, maybe she should stay here? Her hand paused.
What would the First Prince do with that power? Nothing he wasn't doing or abusing already, surely? Maybe he just wanted the security of knowing his position. Why kill the Second Prince anyway, he was being given off to Kanimaw. Glorestra had no princesses to take the throne, either.
Oh. Was it the First Prince that had arranged to give the Second Prince to Kanimaw? Was that all just an elaborate excuse for the First to murder him—or to find a convenient opening to do so? This wasn't actually about politics with Kanimaw. At all. This was about leaving the First completely uncontested to the royal seat.
That was it, wasn't it? Oh Heliux.
“Has Kanimaw made any demands yet?” Aisha asked.
She resumed reaching for her satchel and pilfered through it. If Kanimaw made any demands, that would help to hurt her theory. If they didn't make any demands and didn't really care, then . . . Why wouldn't they care though? They were promised a Prince after all? . . .
Rafiq scratched his neck. “Not yet. They've been quiet—oh. Oh . . . I see.”
Aisha saw her essay and let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Right next to it, she found the missive. Relief flooded through her. She assumed they would have been taken by some malevolent entity while she was knocked out.
Although, that didn't rule out the possibility that a malevolent entity looked through her bag and read them. They seemed to be where she left them. She couldn't know for sure if they hadn't been tampered with, though.
She just had to hope she wouldn't be ambushed on that caravan too.
She pulled the missive out of her bag and held it out, the paper flopped in her hand as gravity's arms tried to bring the paper to the floor.
Rafiq stepped forward and took it. His eyes traced the text with speed.
“What's this?” He finally asked.
“My next caravan.”
“You just came back from one, battered. And where did this come from?”
“This is not negotiable—I am not negotiating. I'm going. Something strange is happening. This might give me some clues as to what's going on.”
Did she tell Rafiq about the raided orphanage, or the missing kids? And how someone grabbed five of them away from the government?
Rafiq probably knew about all that anyway. Whatever, she wouldn't elaborate unless asked.
“Since when did you become a detective?”
T-that was his response? . . . It was a joke about her employment?
“Since the mage assaulted me in front of your room and stole the missives. Since I was sent on that caravan because of my mana-sight. Only Heliux knows.”
Rafiq nodded. “If this is your choice. Just come back in one piece.”
Aisha gave him a weak salute, mostly as a joke.
“You have until tonight, so, rest well.”