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Shahrzad whirled on him. “Not Ardeshir. You can take any horse from this stable, but not that one.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because you are not taking his horse!” Her composure was hanging by a thread.
Rahim put up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “What’s wrong with you, Shazi?” Concern marred his features.
“He’s not even here.” Tariq spoke quietly from the shadows. “The horse is not here. Nor is its master.”
“What?” Rahim turned to Tariq.
“Where is he, Shahrzad?” Tariq asked, striding toward her.
“On his way home, Tariq Imran al-Ziyad,” a male voice intoned from behind them.
Jalal.
When the captain of the guard emerged from the darkness, he aimed a malicious grin at Tariq.
“I would count yourself lucky,” Jalal continued. “Because if Khalid found you with Shahrzad, death would be the least of your worries.”
• • •
Tariq reached for his bow, intent on his next course of action.
And Shahrzad launched herself in his path, clutching both his wrists.
“No!” Her face was awash in terror.
Tariq’s pain compounded further. Now she was even defending the boy-king’s family. Defending them against him.
Captain al-Khoury’s scimitar was unsheathed at his side. He was alone. It would take a single arrow to rid them of his nuisance.
When the boy-king’s arrogant cousin strode closer, Shahrzad turned to face him, still holding one of Tariq’s wrists in a death grip.
“Jalal,” she said, “I can explain.”
“There’s no need.”
“I’m not—”
“I told you; there’s no need.” He spoke simply. “I trust you.”
Her grip on Tariq’s wrist tightened impossibly further.
“It’s Nasir al-Ziyad’s son I don’t trust.” Captain al-Khoury raised his weapon, its edge gleaming white.
“You can trust him.”
“No,” Tariq interrupted, “he can’t.”
Shahrzad glanced over her shoulder, her eyes laced with admonition.
“What are you doing here, Tariq Imran al-Ziyad?” Captain al-Khoury took a step forward, his sword at the ready.
“That should be obvious. I’m here for Shahrzad.”
Captain al-Khoury snorted. “Are you? And did you think you could just leave the city with the Calipha of Khorasan? With my cousin’s wife?”
“Shahrzad is not staying here. I am not leaving the girl I love in the arms of a monster.”
“That’s fu
“You must be joking,” Rahim said in a gravelly tone. “Do you honestly think she would choose a madman over Tariq?”
“Enough, Rahim,” Tariq cautioned.
“Ask her,” Captain al-Khoury said softly. “Ask her if she truly plans to leave Rey with you. Because I know something you are either too stupid or too blind to see.”
“And what is that?” Rahim demanded.
“Murderer, monster, madman . . . Khalid may very well be all of those things. But he’s also loved. By me and by my father. But, most of all, by Shazi. With her, he is as fiercely loved as he loves.”
Shahrzad’s body trembled in front of Tariq. Her hold on his wrist was flagging.
“Is he telling the truth?” Rahim asked, bristling at the captain of the guard’s familiarity.
She glanced once more over her shoulder, and her eyes shimmered with tears that threatened to course down her cheeks. “Tariq.”
No. He could not listen to her say it. Would never listen to her say such a thing.
He dropped the bow and drew her against him. “I know this isn’t you. I know something must have happened. But we can fix it. I can fix it. Come home with me. Every day we are apart is a day closer to death. A day wasted on what might have been. I can’t stomach it any longer. Come home.”
“But,” she whispered, “I am home.”
“Shazi!” Rahim’s face twisted in disbelief. “How can you say that?”
“I’m so sorry. I never, ever wanted to hurt either of you. It’s just that—”
“He killed Shiva!” Tariq exploded. “How can you want the boy who killed your best friend? How can you want a cold bastard who killed dozens of young girls and disappears on a lark while his city burns?”
“What did you say?” Shahrzad’s voice was deathly quiet. “The city is—burning?”
Tariq’s brow furrowed. “The lightning. It caught several buildings on fire.”
At this news, Shahrzad shoved Tariq aside and raced to the stable entrance. She hauled back the wooden gate.
And collapsed at the sight.
Half the city was consumed in flames. Smoke billowed into the sky, backlit by flashes of silver lightning. The scent of burning ash mingled with a cloud of rosebushes nearby.
Captain al-Khoury sheathed his sword and crouched beside Shahrzad.
Her look of abject suffering stopped Tariq short.
“Jalal. What have we done?” Her face was unfaltering in its agony.
“No, delam. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault.” Captain al-Khoury placed each of his hands on either side of her face.
“You have to—” Shahrzad released a shaky breath. “We have to stop this. Before anyone else dies.”
“I will do no such thing,” Captain al-Khoury replied.
“What have we done?” It was a pathetic, soul-searing entreaty.
Captain al-Khoury hoisted Shahrzad to her feet. “Nothing. You’ve done nothing.”
She shook her head, her features lost and bleak. “Khalid . . . will have to—”
“No. He would never.”
“But how can we live like this?” she cried. “I can’t. He can’t!”
Tariq could stand it no longer. “What are you talking about?”
“Tariq Imran al-Ziyad.” Captain al-Khoury continued studying Shahrzad while he spoke. “I have a request.”
“The answer is no.”
“Don’t you want to hear it first?”
Tariq glowered at him in silence.
Captain al-Khoury twisted his head to meet Tariq’s gaze. “Take Shahrzad out of Rey.”
“That was always my intention.”
Shahrzad’s eyes glistened. “Jalal—”
“Take her with you.” Captain al-Khoury gripped Shahrzad’s shoulders.
“No. I can’t leave.” She fought to set her quaking jaw. “I won’t leave. I’m not . . . afraid.”
Captain al-Khoury faced her. “Listen to me. For once. I beg you.”
Shahrzad began to protest, and a gust of hot air blew back at them, further dispersing the strange perfume of sweet roses and harsh smoke. She closed her eyes tight and pressed a hand to her chest.
“Tariq. Where is my father?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“Beyond the city,” he replied. “Waiting . . . atop a hill.”
Her eyes flew open, and she stared at Tariq with an eerie, newfound certainty.
“Take me to him.” Without waiting for a response, she brushed past Captain al-Khoury and walked into the stables to saddle a horse.
Tariq turned to watch as she disappeared into the darkness, her posture stiff and her stride perfunctory. He had only begun to process his confusion when Captain al-Khoury seized him by the arm.
Tariq knocked away the arrogant boy’s hand. “What—”
“Do you still love her?” He spoke in an urgent whisper.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Answer me, you fool. Do you?”
Tariq clenched his teeth, returning the captain of the Royal Guard’s fierce glare.
“Always.”
“Then make sure she never comes back.”
BURNING EMBERS
THE TWO RIDERS MET IN THE MIDDLE OF A SKY-darkened desert.
One atop a simple steed of grey, and the other astride a magnificent white stallion.
Behind each stood a cadre of armed soldiers.
The rider with the white stallion spoke first. “I am told we share a common enemy.” His voice was rich and patently false.