WHEN THEY PUSHED OPEN THE heavy door to the library, Alizeh knew at once that he was inside. She could feel him somehow, as if she were magnetized to his presence. She moved with confidence through the unfamiliar space, its cavernous dimensions lit by warm pools of light.
“This way,” she whispered.
“Are you sure?” Huda whispered back. “Good grief, this room feels haunted at night.”
“Maybe that’s because you’re here,” Kamran said in an undertone. Huda gasped. “Maybe you –”
“Enough,” Hazan said sharply. “Keep your stupidity to yourselves this evening or I’ll have you both thrown in the dungeons.”
“You have no authority to do such a thing,” Huda protested. “You think Cyrus would deny me such a request?”
Huda looked affronted; Alizeh couldn’t help but smile.
In the end, the four of them had headed to the library together, for when Alizeh had explained, vaguely, that Cyrus was waiting for her, Hazan had been inexplicably angry; Kamran had expressly refused to leave her side; and Huda had said, “Should I bring my throwing stars?”
The imposing, soaring shelves towered over them as they went, the smell of old
books and aged leather filling her nose. It was a well-loved room, clearly a place meant for more than display, dotted throughout with worn chairs and rugs. As she pushed on, Alizeh discovered the heart of it: at the end was a discrete space anchored by a mammoth, unlit fireplace, around which were a collection of plush sofas and low tables lit by golden light from nearby lamps. The back wall, however, was a masterwork of glass: massive windows and doors looked out upon a heath crowned by a brilliant moon, the glow of which cast an ethereal spotlight upon a single figure.
Leaning against the mantel, was Cyrus.
Like a lit matchstick, his bright hair shone against the dark of his clothes; he radiated power and elegance even in repose, his gaze almost languid as he watched them enter. He looked at Alizeh first, but he stared longest at Kamran, the two men sharing a look that came very close to hatred, even as they exchanged silent nods of acknowledgment.
Alizeh had to force herself to stand back, to give Cyrus a wide berth. It was better for her when there was distance between them, when her mind could think beyond the
space he took up inside her. Even now she fought for self-possession. Heat had gathered low inside her cold body as it never had in her life, a frantic need building within her, quickening across her skin. She struggled not to stare at his mouth, which drew her eyes over and over; struggled to shove aside the memory of his words, still unprocessed.
Everything, he’d said.
I want everything.
She startled, suddenly, at the feel of a hand at her back, and looked up to find Kamran standing beside her once more. Twice now this had happened, which registered in her clouded mind as worrisome, for he seemed to think she welcomed these proprietary touches, despite the fact that there was no understanding between them.
She’d need to take him aside soon and make it clear that she’d yet to make a decision about his offer. In fact, she didn’t think she’d be able to give it more thought until she’d first dealt with the pressing issues before her.
“You’re late,” Cyrus said without preamble, drawing away from the fireplace as he did. He approached them as an apparition might, his movements slow and liquid. His eyes, she thought, were almost angry – except she blinked, and he appeared unflappably calm.
“Your Majesty,” said Hazan, turning to her. “Perhaps now you can tell us why we’re gathered here.”
Cyrus came to a halt. “You haven’t told them?”
“I didn’t want us to be overheard by the servants,” Alizeh explained, looking around at the others. She took a breath. “Very well, then. I’ve brought you here because we’ve decided to perform the blood oath tonight.”
Huda stifled a small scream.
“You son of a bitch,” Hazan said, stalking toward Cyrus as if he might kill him. “How dare you – she’s only just awoken – she’s hardly had a chance to recover, to spend time in her own head –”
“Hazan, please, it was my choice – I agreed –”
“She won’t be affected by the oath,” Cyrus said, his voice clipped. “I’m the one who will bear the burden of pain.”
Hazan stopped. “Have you ever witnessed, firsthand, the consequences of a blood oath?” He gestured to the room. “Or have you only read about it in your precious
books?”
Cyrus stared stonily at Hazan. “I’ve read about it widely. I’ve heard personal accounts from the Diviners – I’m perfectly capable –”
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes!” Hazan exploded. “You think this is a simple matter? You will be giving up a piece of your soul, of your free will –”
“I am well aware –”
Hazan turned once more to Alizeh, beseeching her. “Your Majesty, you must understand – the cost of such a magic is too great. Once this is done, you will all but own a piece of him. You’ll carry him with you as deadweight; he’ll be physically
incapable of being apart from you –”
“And she’ll have to kill him to put an end to it.” This, from Kamran, who’d drawn somehow closer to her. “I don’t see that as a bad thing, Hazan.”
“What do you mean,” Alizeh said, her thoughts racing madly, “that he’ll be physically incapable of being apart from me? I knew there was a tether, but I didn’t realize it manifested in such a literal way.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Hazan, who seemed relieved by her shock. “It’s a
merciless bond, used throughout history only by the most desperate creatures, with grim results for both parties involved –”
“He exaggerates,” Cyrus interjected. “In the beginning, yes, it will be difficult, which is why I’ve asked to do this as soon as possible –”
“Always!” Hazan cried. “It’s always difficult! It’s worst in the beginning, yes – at first, the pain of separation will be unendurable – and perhaps, in a matter of days, you’ll be able to stand a dozen feet apart from her without wanting to drive a dagger through your skull. In months, if you’re lucky, you might endure the distance of a wheat field – but you will never be able to part from her for long. Until your debt is paid you will never again have independence. It is the very nature of a blood oath to keep a debtor chained to their creditor, and I am appalled that you’d commit to such magic without knowing the facts.”
“I know the facts,” Cyrus said darkly. “I simply have no choice. My debt to her is my death. When it is done, I will be, too.”
“Cyrus,” she whispered. “Are you certain –”
“It’s the only way,” said Kamran. “We can’t trust him without the oath. You cannot marry him without the guarantee –”
“Then perhaps she shouldn’t marry him at all!” Hazan said furiously. He fought for composure, then turned to Alizeh as he said, “Is it truly so imperative that you wed him, Your Majesty? Can you not accept Kamran, instead, when he’s already offered for you –”
“How did you know that?” Alizeh glanced at Cyrus, whose body was rigid even as he stared silently at the floor. “I haven’t – I didn’t tell anyone –”
“Oh, my dear, we’ve known of his intentions for some time,” said Huda, putting an arm around her shoulder. “The prince has only been talking about it for weeks.”
Alizeh looked at Kamran, at the steady look in his eyes, and her mind went blank. “Forgive me,” she said to him. “But I – I haven’t made a decision with regard to – that is, I only know that if I don’t marry Cyrus, the devil will kill him anyway.” Her heart wrenched in her chest, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He is doomed to die one way or another.”
“Precisely,” said Kamran, unmoved. He turned to the others. “If he is to die regardless, why shouldn’t she walk away with a prize? I’ve already advised her to take the offer –”
“You advised her?” Cyrus said darkly, his eyes flashing with unchecked hatred. “You mean you advised her to marry me?” It was the first time Cyrus had addressed Kamran, his voice so heavy with loathing it radiated tension throughout the room.
“Yes,” said Kamran, whose own eyes were mocking. “I encouraged her not to lose an opportunity to reap the reward of killing you.”
“At least I have something to offer her. Meanwhile you dare to promise her a kingdom you’ve yet to inherit. Empty promises from an ousted prince who might never be king.”
Kamran stiffened.
Cyrus studied him, his voice soft and lethal when he said, “Did you think I wouldn’t find out what really happened when you left Ardunia? I don’t care what the papers say about your popularity among the masses. Your Diviners don’t think you worthy of the
throne.”
“What?” Alizeh said. “Is that true?”
Kamran stepped forward, looking murderous. “I didn’t realize we were sharing
secrets,” he said to Cyrus. “Perhaps you’d like to explain to everyone why I once found you collapsed on the grounds in the dead of night, every inch of you so covered in blood you could hardly open your eyes?”
Cyrus tensed, and Alizeh inhaled sharply.
“How many other enemies do you have?” Kamran was saying. “How many other revolting vices? Do you spend your nights gambling? In the arms of prostitutes? You’re so depraved you have no protection from the violence of thugs even as king –”
“That’s enough,” said Alizeh, experiencing a rare flash of anger. She, who knew exactly why such a thing had happened to Cyrus, could listen to no more of this slander. “You cast aspersions upon his character without possession of the facts –”
“His character?” Kamran was stunned. “What character? The man murdered his own father for a crown! He murdered my grandfather. Murdered our Diviners! I have reason to suspect he’s been sending spies into Ardunia for months – has he mentioned that? Has he offered any explanations for launching covert missions into our empire? For breaking the Nix accords by drawing magical boundaries between our lands? His every action is a manipulation! His every word is chosen in the pursuit of his own self- interest. Heaven knows what else he’s done in the course of his dissipated life!”
Alizeh absorbed these horrible facts, hating that she could not deny them, that
Cyrus refused to speak of his father, to explain his actions. She hadn’t known about the spies, and when she glanced at Cyrus for a reaction to this fresh accusation, she found him staring impassively at the wall. He made no move to refute the charge, and yet
these assertions felt at odds with all that she’d learned of him; he did not, in fact, strike her as the kind of person who acted only in his own self-interest. The tense moment inspired a memory as evidence; when she’d first arrived in Tulan, she’d pressed Cyrus for information about his deal with the devil and he’d said –
I must live long enough to accomplish something crucial. Beyond that, my beating heart is of no consequence. You have no idea what’s at stake. My life is the least of it.
The nosta had confirmed this as truth.
Alizeh couldn’t decide whether she was stupid or perceptive for thinking there had to be more to Cyrus, more to his actions. She’d discovered him to be too intelligent, too reasonable. He was reserved and thoughtful, and had betrayed a great deal about himself in the small, human moments they’d shared. Someone in possession of such careful self-control, she reasoned, would never lose his head long enough to commit
thoughtless violence. Indeed it now seemed bizarre to her that he’d entered into a deal with the devil, for Cyrus appeared to have no material desires, no interest in the profits of the world – and worse, he seemed to receive nothing but torment from Iblees. Where were the rewards of his bargain? It drove her crazy that she couldn’t understand.
“Nevertheless,” she said finally. “His torture was inflicted by the devil – I know this because I saw it happen myself –”
“We need not discuss this,” said Cyrus, flashing her an inscrutable look. “The opinion of a worthless royal means nothing to me.”
“You would truly defend him?” Kamran said, ignoring this as he turned to her. “It’s a great credit to your compassion that you would pity someone as corrupted as he, but I would implore you not to spare another thought for his foul soul. I don’t care if Iblees
roasts him over a spit every night. He put himself in this situation – he capitulated to the devil, he sold himself to darkness.” Kamran gestured widely. “These are the consequences. He will lose Tulan, which we should be happy to claim upon his death. I refuse to be sorry for capitalizing upon another man’s stupidity.”
“Well,” said Cyrus, taking a sharp breath. “As much as I enjoy listening to your plans to feast upon my corpse, I’ve grown tired of this conversation.”
Alizeh was shaking her head. “Cyrus, please – I don’t share his sentiments –” “And I don’t care to discuss it,” he said quietly, turning away. “It’s getting late, and
I’d rather return to the task at hand.”
“Yes,” she said, hesitating. “Of course –”
“Your Majesty,” said Hazan. “Must this gruesome deed be done tonight, of all nights, when you’ve only just returned to us? Could we not take more time to consider the other options available?”
Alizeh sighed heavily, closing her eyes a moment before turning to her friend. “What options, Hazan? What other options do I have? Already I’ve been missing for a month. Already there’s been an attempt on my life. Today we have seventy thousand Jinn gathered, but soon that number will double, and double again. What then?” She shook her head. “Am I to remain silent forever? Am I to haunt the halls of this palace, letting my people languish without leadership, without answers – without hope? What of the external pressures facing Tulan? What of the needs of Ardunia? We cannot remain here, in this in-between place forever. Clearly Kamran needs to return home to
address the turbulence he left behind; Huda and Deen have families waiting for them –” “Oh, please don’t rush things on our account,” Huda piped in. “I’ve absolutely no
desire to see my family, and Deen is rather going through something, actually, and
though he’s been vague about the details, he doesn’t seem in any hurry to –” “Yes, thank you, Huda,” Hazan said quietly.
Again, Alizeh sighed. “It kills me that I’m not yet ready to lead. That I have nothing to say, that I can offer only empty promises. I need a crown, Hazan, and I need it now. Cyrus and I have discussed it, and we will marry in two days’ time.”
“Two days?” Hazan paled, his eyes wide with shock. Even Kamran turned sharply to look at her.
“Yes,” she said steadily. “Two days. I want to return to Ardunia immediately after the wedding.”
“What?” said Cyrus, straightening. “You didn’t mention –”
“That means he’ll have to come with us,” said Huda. “Right? If the blood oath
makes it so he’s unable to be parted from her, he’ll be forced to come back to Ardunia with us, won’t he?”
“Yes,” Kamran said darkly.
“Your Majesty,” said Hazan, who was not yet convinced. “We can embark on a quest to the Arya mountains straightaway – you need not marry first. We can leave for Ardunia tomorrow –”
“No,” she said. “I must secure my crown before departing Tulan. I need to know who I am and where my home will be. I cannot leave my people without a show of faith; I need them to trust that I’ll return – that I’ll not abandon them. This is the way.”
Hazan stood before her, astonishment rendering him absolutely still, and Alizeh knew she’d won the fight when he responded only with an unsteady breath. Blindly Hazan retreated, sinking into the nearest chair.
“I understand,” he whispered. “I hate it, but I understand.”
“Excellent,” Cyrus said, the word charged with heat. “Are we finally done? Or are
there more debates to be had? Please let me know now, so I might schedule time to lose the rest of my mind.”
“No,” said Alizeh gently. “We’re done.”
He looked at her then, finally looked at her for more than a fraction of a second, and she was surprised to find in his gaze something that looked a great deal like fear. Her heart broke at the sight, and she moved instinctively toward him when he suddenly pivoted, then walked away. She watched in silent confusion as Cyrus went to the door along the back wall, pushing it open to let in the night air.
Alizeh stiffened, then shivered.
“What are you doing?” asked Hazan, who’d risen to his feet. “Will you not be performing the ceremony here?”
“No,” Cyrus said, his voice low and dark. “I don’t want any blood near my books.” And he stepped outside.
