“Battles ill fought, this morn,” she said. “Right words at an ill moment and ill words at the right moment.” “You do not start a battle with me that you cannot win.” He was laughing at her again. “Unless I must.” A smile tugged at her mouth. “Yes.” He stepped closer . . .
And flees her master’s rose perfume and court gardens for the tents of a Twilket prince of the sands. The wazir sends an army against Faisal’s tents, and a traitor lurks in the Oasis of Oaths.
For the wazir’s reach is long. A slave who runs must be caught.
While her sister sails for Britannia to free them from a death sentence, Alaina searches for the strength to put down her scribe’s quill and her healer’s bag and take up the staff of war. She holds disastrous keys of choice in her forbidden love, her martial skill, and the wisdom of one greater than her heart.