“MILLIONS,” HAZAN SAID AGAIN, HIMSELF thunderstruck.
Kamran processed this revelation as if from afar, both awed and horrified. His grandfather might not have been right about Alizeh – not precisely – but he’d not been altogether wrong, either.
Like a cold wind, he felt the rush of Zaal’s voice, words from the man’s final days coming to life inside his mind –
If you do not think there are others searching for her right now, you are not paying close enough attention. Pockets of unrest in the Jinn
communities continue to disturb our empire. There are many among them deluded enough to think the resurrection of an old world is the only way to move forward.
Kamran swallowed.
All this time, he’d thought of her royal title as symbolic; he never thought she’d be truly recognized as a queen. But now – now that thousands of people had stormed the castle to see her, and millions more might soon swear their allegiance to her –
He realized, with a shock, that he didn’t know Alizeh at all. He’d fallen for a mirage of a girl. A version of her that had never truly existed.
Sarra was stunned into speechlessness, and Kamran felt much the same. “How many millions?” Deen asked, blinking.
“I don’t know,” Hazan said quietly. “This is merely an estimate. There are very few empires that live in peace with my people. Many Jinn live and die undocumented, forced to live out their lives in prison camps. Others
continue to live in hiding. We are a people with no nation, expelled from our own land, the earth under our feet stolen by Clay kings. For so long
we’ve been waiting for the heir to our empire, the one who will protect and unify our people. I have no way of knowing for certain how many will
come” – he shook his head – “but you may trust that those who can, will. By foot, by caravan, by ship or dragon. If they have to drag themselves, inch by inch across the earth to get to her, they will.”
Sarra made a frantic sound, her skin now bloodless with fear. She was muttering half words and nonsense, something about how the city wasn’t meant to hold so many people at once, that there weren’t enough bathrooms, “and where will they sleep?”
Omid started crying.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he choked out. “Honest, I never would’ve killed her – I was just – I was so hungry I couldn’t think clear –”
Huda shifted her chair closer to the boy and pulled him against her, smoothing his hair and making shushing sounds as he wept. “It’s all right, dear,” she whispered. “She forgave you already, didn’t she?”
“She showed me mercy, miss” – he lifted his head, eyes bloodshot as he sniffled – “when I didn’t deserve –”
“Pull yourself together,” Deen hissed, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“That’s a bit harsh –”
Kamran watched this strange scene from a cold distance; he felt frozen in his seat, astonished by his own fear, his pulse racing as he was struck by another blow of memory.
His grandfather had tried to warn him.
If the girl were to claim her place as the queen of her people, it is possible, even with the brace of the Fire Accords, that an entire race would pledge their allegiance to her on the basis of an ancient loyalty alone… The Jinn of Ardunia would form an army; the remaining civilians would riot. An uprising would wreak havoc across the land. Peace and security would be demolished for months – years, even – in the pursuit of an impossible dream –
Hells, he’d been so naive.
When he first met Alizeh she’d been but a humble snoda, scrubbing
floors in his aunt’s grand house, taking beatings from a vile housekeeper. She’d been so vulnerable and small; Kamran had been unable to imagine her beyond the powerless servant girl she first appeared to be. He’d discovered, later – when she’d dispatched the assailants his own grandfather had sent to kill her – that she was perfectly able to defend herself. Still, she possessed no connections, no wealth, no obvious interest in recognition.
She lived in the shadows.
That someone in her position had said no to his power, his wealth, his crown – that she’d continued to refuse him even after they’d made a clear physical connection, the embers of which still burned within him –
It had made no sense.
There exists no bridge between our lives, she’d said. No path that connects our worlds.
He’d been a fool.
In a matter of days she’d found a kingdom to crown her, the people to support her. Already her ascent had inspired the demise of his grandfather, had devastated his life. She’d strengthened as he’d been shattered, and now she would shake the foundations of his empire, too.
What would happen to his kingdom – to his armies – if the Ardunian Jinn swore their allegiance to a foreign sovereign?
He dragged a hand down his mouth. They’d be torn apart.
All this ran through his mind in moments, and he was returned to the present by the sound of a terrible whimper. Sarra had begun to pace.
“Heaven help us,” she cried. “If they find out she’s been injured –” “Yes.” Hazan had sobered a great deal. “This is grim, indeed.” “And you say you don’t even know where she is? She’s injured and
gone? If she dies –”
“She won’t die,” Hazan said harshly.
“Cyrus sent her off on the back of a dragon,” said Kamran. “The king is the only one who knows where she went, and as he is currently indisposed, we have no way of knowing what he did with her.”
At that, Sarra regained a flicker of her edge, her anger. “So she did not fall off a cliff and disappear. My son sent the injured girl away.”
Kamran narrowed his eyes at her tone. “Indeed.”
“And yet you say you have no way of knowing what he did with her? Is your imagination truly so colorless?”
“I am not a mind reader, ma’am.”
“And you,” she said to Hazan. “What of you? Can you envisage no other explanation for his actions?”
Hazan stared at her with renewed concern. “You think he used dark magic on her? Or perhaps poisoned her?”
Sarra looked almost disappointed in Hazan then, shaking her head as she said, “Your every theory assumes as fact that he intends her harm.
You’ve done a poor character study of my son.”
“I disagree,” Hazan replied, his concern displaced by anger. “King Cyrus has proven nothing but violent, aggressive, murderous, and
manipulative. In a single night he slaughtered the king of Ardunia and an entire halo of Diviners, and this isn’t even mentioning the destruction he left in his wake, having half destroyed one of the oldest palaces in history by allowing a dragon to –”
“Yes, all right,” she said with a sigh. “I suppose you’re not wrong to
draw such conclusions. I confess, at first, I thought he meant to hurt the girl as well. But I no longer believe he’d cause her suffering. Not on purpose, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Kamran sharpened. “How can you be sure?”
Sarra opened her mouth to respond, then appeared to think better of it, saying only: “Have you never seen the way he looks at her?”
“No,” he said, his mood darkening. “In fact I have not.”
She offered a brittle smile. “Well. I suppose you’ll see for yourself soon enough.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sarra looked at Kamran then as if he were not the impending heir to the largest empire on earth but an idiot child. “I’d bet my life,” she said, turning her eyes to Hazan, “that he’s entrusted one of his blasted dragons to help her. If the girl were badly injured, there’s only one place he’d –”
“The Diviners,” Hazan said. “Of course.”
“Really?” Huda frowned. “You really think he was trying to help her?”
Omid rubbed at his tearstained cheeks. “I was wondering, miss, why he was hugging her so much. Seemed like an awful lot of hugging for people who don’t like each other.”
“He was hugging her?” Huda’s eyes went wide.
“He was holding her,” Deen corrected. “Probably to keep her from falling off the dragon. Though” – he hesitated – “I suppose if he did mean for her to die, he could’ve simply let her tumble into the ocean?”
Kamran felt himself growing angry, and he couldn’t articulate why. He didn’t realize that what he felt was a warped jealousy, his mind recoiling from the idea that he’d been the one to hurt her, that Cyrus might’ve been the one to save her. And it was with undiluted venom that he said, “If his intention was to help her, why send her off alone? Why not deliver her to
the Diviners himself?”
Omid made a face. “And why did he ask her to marry him if all he wanted was to kill her?”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Huda, “but my parents have been married nearly thirty years and Mother is all the time going on about how much she’d like to kill Father, and in fact I worry, sometimes, that he doesn’t seem to take her seriously –”
Kamran leaned forward, insisting: “It does not stand to reason. The king, too, was injured – had they gone to the Diviners, he might’ve received care for his own wounds. It makes more sense that he might’ve cursed her, binding her to the dragon before sending her off into the unknown, all so that we might never find her –”
“He’s not allowed to set foot in the temple,” said Sarra, her words dripping with condescension. “Cyrus is forbidden even from walking the grounds. Ever since he murdered my husband, the Diviners have refused him entrance.”
Kamran stiffened.
It was the casual way she stated the horrifying fact that cast a brief pall over the room, and it was the reminder they all needed: the truth of who King Cyrus really was, how blackened was his soul. Kamran couldn’t
believe Alizeh would consider marrying such a criminal. If she was so
desperate for a crown, why hadn’t she appealed to him instead? He’d all but offered for her – and she’d chosen to align herself with this animal?
Even now, even with his head and heart muddled beyond reason, Kamran experienced a painful thrill at the thought of appealing to her, convincing her to join forces with him. In fact, the more he learned of her influence, the more he realized that an understanding between them would forestall his fears of upheaval in the Ardunian empire; if a Jinn queen and Clay king could join peacefully, perhaps the people, too, could live in harmony.
The idea took root inside him.
His interest in her would no longer be labeled impractical or emotional; marrying her would instead prove the perfect hedge against rebellion. He felt certain even his grandfather would’ve been convinced, for it wouldn’t be a match born of base desire but a considered alliance made for the good of the people.
Something like relief began to expand in his chest.
Perhaps this was what the Diviners had meant for him to accomplish;
perhaps proving his worth as king was bound up in the search for his queen.
Perhaps the magic in his body had altered because he was not meant to be the sole ruler of Ardunia.
He felt a purifying clarity then, a feeling of ease cleansing weeks of tension. Kamran had been lost and confused, confounded by grief, by the machinations of Zahhak, the demands of the Diviners.
Now he understood.
His presence here, in this godforsaken empire, became suddenly tolerable. He would find a way to stay. He needed to speak with Alizeh at the first opportunity and make his intentions clear. After all, he’d never
made her any formal offer. Surely such a proposal would appeal to her now; surely she would see the advantages of such a union – and would be
sensible enough to leave this hellscape by his side, toward a future where they could both have exactly what they wanted.
“But – he’s the king,” said Huda, breaking the silence and his reverie. “The Diviners are obligated to serve the rightful sovereign.” She looked around. “Aren’t they?”
“They do as they please.”
Kamran felt a chill pierce the room, his instincts awakening in a blaze of scorn for that voice. That face.
Softly, Omid screamed.
King Cyrus stood in front of the closed door, his wretched, haggard, and bloodied appearance doing nothing to diminish the blue blaze of his eyes.
How he’d reanimated so quickly, Kamran couldn’t imagine; though he supposed it had something to do with the devil. Black magic likely ran through the beast’s veins. Perhaps he couldn’t be killed so long as he was allied with Iblees. Perhaps that was the bargain he’d made.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” said Cyrus quietly, “you’re wrong. Now leave my home before I rip you apart with my bare hands.”
