#kinus

He hated waiting, had since he was a boy. When he’d return home on a break from training, and be forced to wait for his parents to make time to see him. He’d had Kinus to wait with him then, to distract him with games. And those times when Makram’s parents never made the time to see him, it was Kinus who found ways to make him forget, to keep him occupied. pg.26

Naime did have a knack for surrounding herself with good people. Yet another trait his brother had not shared. pg.383

"Enough," Makram barked. "Enough of this madness." Makram ordered the guards, "Let her pass." "No," Kinus snapped. Naime met Makram's gaze and regret cracked what was left of her composure, her expression filling with it. He took a step toward her, a jolt of panic bolting through him. She whispered a word, and there was a tug in his chest then a weight, crushing his lungs. He couldn't draw breath, couldn't think. All he knew was a panicked need for air. He tried to reach for her but could not, and dropped to his knees, his magic exploding from him in a blanket of shadow and destruction. The edges of his vision grew black, and his body left his command as he watched her stride toward the doors, everyone in the room thrashing and gasping for air. The black enveloped him and sucked him under. pg.312

"You will go to war against an army with a Charah at its head?" Kinus scoffed, pointing to Makram. Never. Never would he stand at the head of an army pointed at Naime. pg.312

"I said kill her!" Kinus jerked out of Makram's hands, staggering to his feet. Makram caught his brother by the shoulder and yanked him back. The guards moved between Naime and the door, forming a half-moon shape around the throne room. "Hold." Destruction poured from Makram, fed by anger and betrayal, shadow bleeding from his skin and to the ground around him. The marble tiles beneath him buckled as he strode forward. He didn't want to kill anyone, but neither would he allow Kinus to hurt Naime. He aimed his magic at the guards' swords. "Don't you dare defy me," Kinus shrieked, his eyes wild, the tendons in his neck standing out in his anger. "Arrest him and kill her!" But Makram had already given his magic its command, woven the spell with a thought and a word, and the swords the guards held toward Naime rusted away. Hilts clattered to the tiles as guards held their hands up, backing away from her. Guards remained between Naime and the door, trapping her and the few Elders who remained, huddling in the corners of the room. pg.312

"Makram!" Thoman yelled but was pushed away by the tide of his comrades. Naime spun around and wind gusted away from her, flinging the doors to the hall open. She faced Makram and Kinus once again. "Release him," Makram demanded. "As you wish." Naime flicked her hand and Kinus suddenly drew in a gulp of air like he had surfaced after nearly drowning. He shook in Makram's grip as he continued to suck in breaths. "Stop screaming or I will make you," Naime commanded Amal, whose mouth pressed closed, her expression still reflecting her panic. "Stay here in your ignorance and be trampled beneath the Republic. Perhaps you will serve as stumbling block enough to attrit them before they reach Tamar. But I will not be here to see it." She whipped around and strode for the doors. pg.310

"Kill her," Kinus ordered with a dismissive laugh. The guards moved, Makram stepped in front of her, and she lifted her hand toward Kinus, palm up, curling her fingers toward her palm. Kinus wheezed and gagged as if he could not draw breath. Makram caught him as he went to his knees. Amal screamed, and kept screaming, standing and pointing at Kinus as he clutched at his chest. Naime reached with her other hand toward the guards, stroking her fingers through the air as they reached for their weapons. Between one moment and the next they were on their knees as well, gasping for air that was gone from their lungs. The Elders erupted in panic, pushing and stumbling over each other as they headed for the door. pg.310

"I have noted that your brother is exceptionally agreeable and mild mannered for a Charah. Perhaps because of that you have forgotten what the wrath of a high-order mage feels like." Naime rose and took a moment to carefully shake her skirts and caftan into order. When she lifted her gaze again, light like pale winter sun lit her eyes, obliterating evidence of the iris and pupil. She drew a breath and released it. Her magic concussed outward and Makram stumbled sideways and Kinus backwards at the force of it. Power swirled around her in eddies and gusts, fragments of wind like opalescent pieces of silk caught in a whirlwind of magic of which she was the eye. She shone, pouring light like the beacon of reason and hope that she was though now all Makram could sense was fury. The Elders reacted by shuffling farther away from her, toward the door, toward the walls. "You will release me"—her voice held her power, lifted to fill the room with the sound of her anger—"or Sarkum will find itself devoid of a ruler." pg.311-312