ALIZEH RAN STRAIGHT THROUGH THE inferno without care, her diaphanous gown going up in flames, and which she beat down quickly with her bare hands. She looked at Kamran, her heart seizing in her chest, sparing what moments she had to see that he was alive, to make certain he wasn’t too badly injured.
He was only staring at her in wonder.
A broad strip of his right arm was bleeding profusely—had been burned straight through his clothes. The rest of the outfit was damaged beyond repair, singed more in some places than others, but he appeared otherwise okay, save a few nasty scrapes he’d collected in the match. Still, he seemed oblivious to his injuries, even to the gash across his forehead, the blood dripping slowly down his temple.
The crowd, which had previously gone silent with shock, suddenly began whispering, gasping aloud their heartache and disbelief.
Alizeh turned on the Tulanian king.
She charged up to him in a singed gown and sooty skin and yanked the sword from his frozen hand, tossing it to the floor, where it landed with a clatter. The young king was staring at her now like she was some unfathomable sea monster, come to swallow him whole.
“How dare you,” she cried. “You horrible cretin. You useless monster.
How could you—”
“How—how did you—” He was still staring at her, gaping. “How did you walk through the fire like that? Why are you not—burning?”
“You despicable, wretched man,” she said angrily. “You know who I am, but you don’t know what I am?”
“No.”
She slapped him, hard, across the face, the potent force of her strength sending him reeling. The southern king reared back, colliding with a column against which he both knocked his head and braced himself. It was a moment before he looked up again, and when he did, Alizeh saw that his mouth was full of blood, which he spit out onto the floor.
Then he laughed.
“Damn the devil to hell,” he said softly. “He didn’t tell me you were a Jinn.”
Alizeh startled. “Who?” “Our mutual friend.”
“Hazan?”
“Hazan?” The copper-headed king laughed at that, wiped a bit of blood from his mouth. “Hazan? Of course not Hazan.” To Kamran, he said, “Pay attention, King, for it seems even your friends have betrayed you.”
Alizeh swung around to meet Kamran’s eyes just in time to see the way he looked at her—the flash of shock, the pain of betrayal—before he shuttered closed, withdrew inward.
His eyes went almost inhumanly dark. She wanted to go to him, to explain—
Kamran exchanged a look with a guard, scores of which now swarmed the ballroom, and Hazan, soon revealed to be the sole person trying to flee the crush, was seized not moments later, his arms bound painfully behind his back. The silence of the room was momentarily deafening; Hazan’s protests piercing the quiet as he was dragged away.
Alizeh was gripped then by a violent terror.
With agonizing slowness, she felt a tapestry of truth form around her; disparate threads of understanding braiding together to illustrate an answer to a question she’d long misunderstood.
Of course not Hazan.
Hazan had never planned this fate for her. Hazan had been kind and trustworthy; he’d truly cared for her well-being. But this—this was all a cruel trick, was it not?
She’d been deceived by the devil himself.
Why?
“Iblees,” she said, her voice fraught with disbelief. “All this time, you have been speaking of the devil. Why? Why did he send you to fetch me? What interest does he have in my life?”
The Tulanian king frowned. “Is it not obvious? He wants you to rule.”
Alizeh heard Kamran’s sharp intake of breath, heard the rumblings of the crowd around them. This conversation was madness. She’d nearly forgotten they had an audience—that all of Ardunia would hear—
Again, the southern king laughed, but louder this time, looking suddenly disturbed. “A Jinn queen to rule the world. Oh, it’s so horribly seditious. The perfect revenge.”
Alizeh felt herself pale then, watched her hands begin to tremble. A fragile hypothesis began to take shape in her mind; something that shook her to her core:
Iblees wanted to use her.
He wanted to bring her to power and control her; no doubt to ensure the mass chaos and destruction of the Clay who wronged him; the beings he blamed for his downfall.
Alizeh began slowly backing away from the blue-eyed king. A strange madness had overtaken her, a fear beyond which she could not see. Without thinking, she glanced up at the clock.
Five minutes to midnight.
Alizeh bolted for the exit, fleeing the fiery circle for the second time unscathed; the remains of her gown going up in flames once more. She beat the fire from her dress even as she ran, even as she knew not where she was headed.
The Tulanian king called after her.
“Wait— Where are you going? We had a deal— Under no circumstances were you allowed to run away—”
“I must,” she said desperately. She knew it sounded crazed even as she said it, for there had never been escape from the devil, never a reprieve from his whispers. Still, she could not help the anguish that overcame her then. It made her irrational.
“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave— I need to find somewhere to hide, somewhere he won’t—”
Alizeh felt something catch her in the gut then. Something like a gust of wind; a wing. Her feet began kicking without warning, launching her body upward, into the air.
She screamed.
“Alizeh!” Kamran bellowed, rushing up to the edges of his fiery cage. “Alizeh—”
Panic filled her lungs as her body soared. “Make it stop,” she cried, her arms pinwheeling. “Put me down!”
She felt at once paralyzed and weightless; the movements of her body utterly beyond her control.
Would this dark magic float her up to the moon? Would it drown her in a lake? Impale her on a sword?
All she could do was scream.
She was nearing the rafters now, rising up to the ceiling. The people below were hard to distinguish, their voices inaudible—
And then, a crash.
A massive beast broke through the palace wall, its leathery body bright with iridescent scales, its wingspan as wide as the room. The crowd shrieked and hollered, dove for cover. Alizeh, meanwhile, could not look away.
She’d never seen a dragon before.
It swooped low and roared; its long, studded tail whipping along the wall, leaving gashes in the marble.
And then, like a shot, Alizeh was released.
She plummeted to the ground with terrifying speed, the sounds of her own screams filling her ears, drowning out all else. She hardly had time to process that she was about to die, that she would snap in half when she hit the floor—
The dragon dove and caught her, hard, on its back.
She fell forward with superlative force, nearly losing her seat before she caught the studded nape of the beast that took flight without delay. Alizeh was knocked back as it launched upward, her head spinning, heart hammering in her chest. It was all she could do to hold on and keep her wits about her. The dragon gave another roar before flapping its massive wings, propelling them out the destroyed palace wall and into the night sky.
For a long time, Alizeh did not move.
She felt paralyzed by fear and disbelief; her mind assaulted by a tumult of uncertainty. Slowly, sensation returned to her limbs, to the tips of her fingers. She soon felt the wind against her face, saw the night sky drape itself around her, a midnight sheet studded with stars.
By degrees, she began to relax.
The beast was heavy and solid, and seemed to know where it was going. She took deep lungfuls of air, trying to clear the dregs of her panic, to
convince herself that she would be safe for at least as long as she clung to this wild creature. She shifted, suddenly, at the feel of soft fibers grazing her skin through what was left of her thin gown, and looked down to examine it. She hadn’t realized she was in fact sitting on a small carpet, which—
Alizeh nearly screamed again.
The dragon had disappeared. It was still there—she felt the beast beneath her, could feel the leathery texture of its skin—but the creature had gone invisible in the sky, leaving her floating on a patterned rug.
It was deeply disorienting.
Still, she understood then why the creature had disappeared; without its bulk to blind her, she could see the world below, could see the world beyond.
Alizeh didn’t know where she was going, but for the moment, she forced herself not to panic. There was, after all, a strange peace in this, in the quiet that surrounded her.
As her nerves relaxed, her mind sharpened. Quickly, she yanked off her boots and chucked them into the night. It gave her great satisfaction to watch them disappear into the dark.
Relief.
A sudden thud shifted the weight of the rug, startling her upright. Alizeh spun around, her heart racing once again in her chest; and when she saw the face of her unwelcome companion, she thought she might fling herself into the sky with the boots.
“No,” she whispered.
“This is my dragon,” said the Tulanian king. “You are not allowed to steal my dragon.”
“I didn’t steal it, the creature took— Wait, how did you get here? Can you fly?”
He laughed at that. “Is the mighty empire of Ardunia really so poor in magic that these small tricks impress you?”
“Yes,” she said, blinking. Then, “What is your name?”
“Of all the non sequiturs. Why do you need to know my name?” “So that I may hate you more informally.”
“Ah. Well, in that case, you may call me Cyrus.”
“Cyrus,” she said. “You insufferable monster. Where on earth are we going?”
Her insults seemed to have no effect on him, for he was still smiling when he said, “Have you really not figured it out?”
“I’m entirely too agitated for these games. Please just tell me what horrible fate awaits me now.”
“Oh, the very worst of fates, I’m sorry to say. We are currently enroute to Tulan.”
The nosta burned hot against her skin, and Alizeh felt herself go rigid with fear. She was stunned, yes, and horrified, too, but to hear the king of an empire denigrate his own land thus—
“Is Tulan really so terrible a place?”
“Tulan?” His eyes widened in surprise. “Not at all. A single square inch of Tulan is more breathtaking than all of Ardunia, and I say that as a discernable fact, not as a subjective opinion.”
“But then”—she frowned—“why did you say that it would be the very worst of fates?”
“Ah. That.” Cyrus looked away then, searched the night sky. “Well. You remember how I said I owed our mutual friend a very large debt?”
“Yes.”
“And that helping you was the only repayment he would accept?” She swallowed. “Yes.”
“And do you remember how I told you that he wanted you to rule? To be a Jinn queen?”
Alizeh nodded.
“Well. You have no kingdom,” he said. “No land to lord over. No empire to lead.”
“No,” she said softly. “I don’t.”
“Well, then. You are coming to Tulan,” Cyrus said, taking a quick breath. “To marry me.”
Alizeh gave a sharp cry, and fell off the dragon.
