The Binding Stone (The Djinn Series) (29 page)

“How
considerate,” I say, snatching the thing from his grip and crushing it.

“What
I want to do is make it look like you are mine,” he says. “You see, I can
bargain with Kitra. I can make her think I am willing to join her along with
you.”

“Just
like the good old days?” I ask, folding my arms.

“Then
you kill her,” Achan says with a grin.

“And
what makes you think I will be able to do that?” I ask.

“She
only has one Djinni. It should be easy if she lets her guard down.”

Something
is not right.

“Then
you can have Jered,” he continues.

“And
what do you get?” I ask.

“Revenge.
And of course the other Djinni.”

I
squeeze the space in front of me again and lift him into the air. Jered tugs on
my elbow urgently, but I pay him no attention. I will find a way to fix him
myself. Achan needs to die.

“D...Don’t
you want him to live?” Achan squeaks out.

“How
did you know she only has one Djinni left?” I ask, shaking him.

Before
he can answer, I am pulled to my knees from pain.
No
. Jered catches me
in his arms, holding me tight. His shirt is soaked with tears. I can see how he
tries to gather his aura around me protectively, but he is too hysterical to
manage.

“You
should really listen to your boyfriend,” Kitra says from behind me. “He was
trying to warn you.”

“I
want my reward,” Achan says, standing and rubbing his bruised neck.

“For
nearly blowing the whole thing?” Kitra asks. “I don’t know.”

I
turn my head toward Kitra. I am not surprised to see Achan’s vest over her
clothes or Mira, her shadow, cowering in the background. She kneels beside us
on the floor, smiling down at me. I wince from the pain.

“You
are so predictable, Leela,” she whispers in my ear. My chest is heavy. I’ve
been exposed to a lot of lead in the past few days. The effects are sharper and
more immediate than ever. “Take him, Achan. He is in my way.”

I
feel Jered dragged from beneath me, and I scream in frustration, tears welling
in my eyes. Kitra kicks me hard in the ribs, then fishes two of the round
weights from a pocket in her vest. I hear the sound of a body falling to the
ground, then footsteps. I strain to turn my head.

The
last thing I see before she places the weights upon my eyes is Jered’s face
staring at me, calm and collected. I scream his name, feel his hand against my
cheek, but I know it is not he that touches me.

“No,”
I sob. “No.”

“He
is gone, Leela,” Jered’s voice answers me. “Still struggling, but that will
stop soon enough.”

“
No!
”

More
lead discs are placed on my lips, so I can no longer call out. The weight of
the vest itself then falls across my chest.

“Mira,”
Kitra purrs. “Don’t look at me like that, I am protecting you from the lead.
Now, give our friend here her welcome home gift.”

I
hear rustling as I struggle against the pain, both physical and mental. But
there is nothing I can do. My motor function is already failing, and the best I
manage are a series of twitches.
Jered
, I call in my mind,
I’ve let
you down
. It seems I always let down the people I care about.

Mira’s
hands are at my throat. The ribbon stretches for my skin like a hungry snake.
And then it is over. I am bound to her again. Just as she promised.

“Go
home,” she tells Mira.

Hands
on my mouth, my eyes, lifting the burden from my body. The pain subsides, and
my vision returns. I wish it hadn’t. Then I wouldn’t see Achan’s lifeless body
on the floor, Jered watching me hungrily from the bed.

“Kneel.”
Of course this is her first command. I do it, still unable to tear my eyes from
Jered’s face. Taj was right. I should have just gone.

“Did
you really think I’d let you live, Achan?”

Achan
freezes in fear. “We have a deal, Kitra.”

I
know what is coming next before it happens, but I cannot prevent Kitra’s
command.

“Now,
Leela, kill your lover.”

The Beginning

“
gain,”
Kitra calls.

The
Council members are dressed in matching red robes with the gold embossed symbol
of Kitra’s design, seated in their favorite spot, at the grand table in the
dining hall. A banquet has been called in honor of their new positions as
leaders of the surrounding four villages. The guests of honor are those whose
position of power they have usurped. The guests sit, like frightened lambs,
forcing down the food before them. Any merchants or others with wealth or power
of their own have also been gathered.

Human
servants rush around, cleaning spills and filling goblets. They refuse to meet
the eyes of their masters. I have no such luxury.

Kitra
makes a show of us at every meeting she attends. Sometimes Cephas joins in.
Achan stands back watching quietly. But here in their palace, he laughs and
drinks, enjoying his bounty. Hardly ever meeting my eyes.

“Dance!”
She yells at us, clapping her hands as we move faster in our red and gold harem
uniforms.

 “You
think you are gods?” A man pushes away from one side of the table, unable to
stand it any longer. “Because of this black magic you’ve found?”

“Oh,
we are far more than gods,” says Kitra. Cephas smiles, and those around the
brave man recoil, scooting their own seats away and leaving him as alone as I
am. I study his lined face, the proud brace of his shoulders.

“We
have found the gods and brought them to their knees,” Cephas bellows. “Watch as
they bow before us. Kneel.” He gestures at us, and we stop dancing to fall to
the ground, prostrating ourselves before him.

Achan
glances toward me, but I fix my gaze on the man now standing at the table.

“Well,
I will not worship you.” The man spits at Cephas’s feet.

“Then
we must make an example of you,” Kitra says. “Stand on the stage here with my
Djinn.” Her voice is pleasant but commanding. Perhaps she thinks all of these
people wear collars.

The
man turns his back to her and walks toward the doors.

“Mira,
bring him on stage,” Kitra barks, and the man stands beside us, stumbling in
confusion.

“Apologize,”
she says.

“What?”
he asks.

“To
show I am a forgiving queen, I give you a second chance. Now, apologize.”

The
man stands firm, staring her down.

“Leela,”
she calls. I step forward. “Make him apologize.”

I
focus on the man’s hands, pressing down on the air with my fingers until the
bones crack. He shouts out in pain but does not apologize. Poor stubborn fool.

I
continue on to his hands, then his arms. By the time I get to his shoulders he
is crying on his knees, elbows bent at odd angles from his body. Kitra’s aura
shines a bright pink. Finally he has enough sense to scream, “I’m sorry!” And I
stop.

“I’m
afraid I cannot accept an apology under duress,” Kitra purrs. “Kill him.”

I
picture Kitra’s neck being crushed beneath my hands as I strangle the air
before me. And though it is the man who falls to the ground, eyes staring
blankly toward the sky, it is her face I see, all life drained forever from her
body.

The
crowd clears the moment Kitra allows it. She tells us to chain the man’s
remains to the front gates as a warning to those who would challenge her.

One
of the servant girls screams, letting a plate crash to the ground as Cephas
gathers her in his arms, planting wet kisses on her face. I tense for fear this
night may become even worse. “Taj,” he calls to his Djinni. “Make her love me.”

“I
cannot,” Taj says, chin jutted proudly in the air.

“What?”
Cephas bellows, throwing the girl to the ground.

“It
is not within his power to do what you have asked,” I say, stepping forward.

“Then
you do it,” Cephas says, moving closer to me.

My
feet shuffle backward slightly, but I shake my head. “I do not think you
understand,” I say. “No Djinni can do this. My power is limited as well.”

He
lifts a massive hand to strike me, but Achan materializes, catching it
mid-swing with the help of his own magic.

“She
is mine. If you want to strike someone, strike your own. Obviously she tells
the truth, or it would have been done.”

But
Kitra is smart. She sees the discomfort on my face and pushes forward. “Is
there no way, Leela? Tell me.”

Mira
glares at me as I speak. “If we combine our powers we can do more. The more of
us there are, the more we can do.”

“And
how many more Djinn are there? Out there?” she asks, waving a hand vaguely.

“I...I
do not know,” I say. “Several that have crossed over the veil into this world.”

“And
can you do as Cephas asks, if you work together?” Kitra asks, her warm breath
on my face.

My
eyes fall, and I nod my head.

“Then
do it. I wish to see.”

I
glance at the girl who has backed frightfully into the corner, and my heart
catches in my throat. But my hands are already joining in a circle with the
others, our power blooming between our arms, wrapping itself around the
servant. Our hands drop to our sides. The girl rises.

She
runs to Cephas’s arms. He lifts her, and she covers his face with kisses, hands
clasped behind his neck.

Kitra’s
eyes are alight with possibility.

Insolence

“
e
is not my lover,” I spit back.

Kitra’s
hand answers me, and I sprawl on the floor laughing even though inside I am
dying. 

“And
what exactly do you think you gain through such insolence?” she asks. “Don’t
you remember what I do to those who talk back?”