Free Daughter of Gods and Shadows by Jayde Brooks Page B

are at any given moment. And it’s the moment that matters. You and I are the same; we are one separate but connected being. If I should die and you live, that bond does not break. We are tethered, as all life is tethered.”
    The Sirh were peaceful, spiritual beings who lived quiet and simple lives, neutral to the conflicts brewing between Khale and Sakarabru. It was that neutrality that killed them.
    â€œRun, Kifo! Hide! Go now!”
    The Sirh had taught him to respect life and to honor it. They had taught him not to fear the afterlife, but when he lost them, Kifo was a scared and frightened young Djinn, a child who quickly learned that not all Theian Ancients believed as the Sirh had believed that all life was precious, especially his.
    He had scavenged for food and a place to sleep at night. He had huddled in caves to avoid being seen or caught up in wars that he wasn’t brave enough to fight. Kifo was a mystic, not a soldier, and he was afraid.
    He had wandered into the desert and found a Faih, akin to an Earth scorpion. Kifo found it dying and was going to eat it but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Did it have the same passion for living as he did? Did it deserve to live? Did he?
    Kifo had closed his eyes and repeated a chant he had learned from one of the Sirh magi, and as he chanted, he focused on the bridge that this Faih was traveling to get from life to death. He imagined its fear, its uncertainty, and its regret that it had to leave its life behind too soon. And then, at that crucial moment when he knew that the Faih had accepted its fate, Kifo refused it passage to the other side of that bridge he saw in his mind, and the Faih flipped over on its legs and quickly crawled away.
    He had been so caught up in his chanting that it wasn’t until he saw the Faih crawl away that he noticed someone standing over him. It was a young general, Sakarabru.
    â€œWhat did you do?” he asked, towering over Kifo.
    Kifo thought long and hard before responding. “I took away its option to cross over,” he finally said. “It had no choice but to come back to this life.”
    Sakarabru had been kind to him. He had been patient and had encouraged his studies in the art of mysticism. It was Sakarabru who convinced him to use his abilities on a fallen Ancient soldier who was near death.
    â€œRemember the Faih?” he asked Kifo, as his soldiers dropped the nearly dead body at Kifo’s feet.
    Kifo looked confused. “But this is a Shifter, Sakarabru.”
    â€œSatisfy my curiosity, Kifo,” the Demon had responded.
    Kifo lived with the Demon, but in his mind he hadn’t chosen a side in the wars. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized that the Demon was asking him to choose his side.
    It took much longer with the Shifter than it had with the Faih. Kifo had chanted over him for three days before he was finally able to stand. He was alive again, but different. He was angry and almost feral, until Sakarabru spoke to him. The Demon’s voice calmed him, and he was obedient to Sakarabru.
    â€œI want you to make me more of these, little mystic.”
    Sakarabru had taken Kifo in and cared for him when no one else would. In exchange for a home, Kifo gave Sakarabru his loyalty. The opportunity to prove his devotion came at a time when Sakarabru was wounded after a particularly difficult battle. His healers were all around him, suturing his wounds. Sakarabru had summoned Kifo to his room.
    â€œThe Shifter, Khale, would have my head if she could, little mystic,” he said, cringing when he attempted to laugh. “Today, she nearly did. Fortunately, her aim was off.”
    â€œWould you have her head if you could, Sakarabru?” Kifo asked.
    Sakarabru stared intently at him. “Yes. Yes, I would.”
    Had Sakarabru really just called him into his room for small talk? Kifo suspected that that wasn’t the case. “Why did you summon me, Lord