But Loulie couldn’t make the relic work. It was cold and dead in her hands. Despair washed over her as their enemies closed in. A few reinforcements were heading toward Mazen with drawn bows, while another group approached Omar.
Omar stepped closer. He was ten feet away. Eight. Seven. And then he suddenly stopped. His eyes grew wide with confusion. He looked down and saw that he was sinking.
Understanding dawned moments before her captor’s grip disappeared. Loulie shrank away as they collapsed beside her, their back so shredded she could see their spine. Above her loomed Rijah, transformed into a majestic bird with quills twelve paces long.
A legendary rukh.
And yet here it was, lowering itself to the ground beside her. She startled as Rijah extended a wing speckled with silver blood. She was even more surprised when Qadir slid down that wing. Before she could say anything, he grabbed her hands in his alarmingly transparent ones. “I have an idea,” he said in a parchment-thin voice that made her heart sink. “Do you trust me?”
Omar’s laughter sounded behind them. “Whatever plan you speak of, it will fail!” Loulie turned to see reinforcements helping him out of the sinking sand.
Qadir cut a glance at Rijah. On some silent cue, the bloodied bird rose into the air and flew toward Mazen. The archers beside the prince snapped into action, loosing their arrows as the ifrit soared overhead. Rijah swept the projectiles away with a beat of their wing, but the archers were relentless. They pummeled the great bird with arrows, providing cover for Omar and making it difficult for Rijah to land.
“Don’t you understand?” Omar’s voice was soft, mocking. “There is no escape. You are an enemy of the people now, merchant. If I do not find you, someone else will.” He grinned, eyes flashing. “You are doomed.”
The future—it was the concern Loulie had refused to consider. She no longer had the luxury of ignorance. Not with so many enemies pressing in, with Qadir reduced to smoke.
“Loulie.” Qadir pressed a palm to her cheek. “Do you trust me?”
“He’s right.” She could no longer hide the quaver in her voice. “There is no future for us.”
Qadir blinked his ruby-red eyes at her. “There is no future here.”
Loulie stared at him, not understanding.
“If you cannot hide in this world, then hide in another.”
His words washed over her in a great, icy wave. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.
“No,” she said softly. “The jinn world—”
“An escape.”
She stared at him. “This was your plan all along.”
Qadir gripped her hands. “Trust me.”
It was the reason he’d been so calm. Because he’d been concocting a backup plan. And he had not told her.
“I’ll find you again. But I need to make sure no one gives chase. I need to keep you safe.”
“I told you I would kick your ass if you kept something from me again.”
“You need to be alive to do that.” He glanced over her shoulder. Omar was recovering his balance on solid land. His reinforcements stood around him, weapons drawn, awaiting orders. Somewhere in the distance, fires raged. Aisha bint Louas was a blur of color, hiding behind an undead army. “Please,” Qadir said, voice breaking.
The harried rukh landed beside them again, Mazen on its back. It shuddered with exhaustion as it lowered a wing.
“I trust you,” Loulie said softly. “Promise not to die.”
Qadir leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. One last time, she felt his warmth envelop her. “I promise,” he murmured. And then he drew away. “Take care of them, Rijah. And… I’m sorry.”
The great bird bowed its head. “IT SHALL BE DONE.” Their bright eyes glinted with impatience as Loulie stepped onto their wing and settled on their back. She fixed her eyes on Omar as the bird rose into the air. Held the earring up for him to see, then tucked it into her pocket. She wasn’t running. She was simply retreating to live another day.
“Wait.” Mazen shifted. Loulie followed his gaze and saw Aisha bint Louas standing a short distance away from her undead army, looking at them. “We can’t just leave her here,” he whispered. “We have to save her.”
Aisha bint Louas stared at them a moment longer.
Then she turned and walked back toward her army.
Loulie blinked. “I don’t think she wants to be saved.”
Arrows cut through the air before the prince could protest again. Rijah swerved to avoid them, and she and Mazen both barely managed to stay on their back.
“HOLD ON,” the gigantic bird screeched.
Loulie had just enough time to grasp the rukh’s quills before it plummeted down one of the holes. The last thing she saw before the world disappeared was Qadir, facing the gathering army with his blade. And then there was darkness, and a terrible heat was chasing them down the void. Mazen clasped his hands over hers. Loulie gripped them back.
They fell and fell, the sand following them down, blocking the light and their way back. They fell for a long time. So long Loulie feared there was no end. But then—sand. Blessed, blessed sand. Ground beneath their feet. An end.
Or, perhaps, a beginning.
70
LOULIE
At the bottom of the hole lay a cave so cold it immediately leeched the heat from Loulie’s body. She was shuddering as she slid off the rukh, the tears that had been running down her cheeks freezing as soon as she fell to the ground. Mazen followed, his face smeared with blood.
He stared past Loulie at the hole, gaze blank.
“ARE YOU STUPID?” the great bird bellowed. “MOVE.”
On cue, there came a low groaning sound, and then the sand that had been chasing them down the hole rushed toward them in a torrent. Rijah swept them out of the way with a flap of their wing. Loulie fell against the cave wall and watched as the sand piled, the mound growing higher and higher until it was a column that went to and through the ceiling.
The bird loosed a sigh. “HUMAN FOOLS.” They began to shrink, their quills softening into skin, their body collapsing until it was human shaped. All of this happened in moments. Loulie was amazed when the ifrit cracked their now very human neck and groaned. They had shifted into the form of a man with high cheekbones, fierce eyebrows, and long brown hair. The injuries hidden beneath their feathers were now gory badges somewhat concealed by plain garments. Rijah saw her looking at the wounds and scowled.
“What? You look like shit too,” they said.
“I didn’t say anything,” she snapped back. But the fight had left her body. When she thought about Qadir fighting a horde of jinn…
“Are you coming, humans?” Rijah had walked on ahead and paused only to glance back at them. A blue flame slithered between their fingers like a snake. The jinn raised a brow. “I was commanded by my king to watch over you, but I do not intend to baby you.”
Loulie was preparing another retort when the weight of Rijah’s words sank in. “What do you mean, king?” The word was a whisper on her lips. “You’re all jinn kings. You’re all ifrit.”
Rijah looked at her like she was stupid. “What, did he not tell you?”
Secrets, secrets. So many secrets. She had thought Qadir had revealed everything to her when he confessed that he was an ifrit. But now she remembered the tale he’d told about the seven jinn kings. He had fooled her into thinking there were seven ifrit, with an eighth king to rule them. But the human story had always been about seven jinn.
Loulie did not realize her knees were wobbling until Mazen came to stand beside her. He set a hand on her shoulder to balance her. “He called himself the Inferno,” he said.
“A fitting name for a king whose magic is as old as the flame of creation, no?”
Stupid. She bit back a self-mocking laugh. Of course he would never say anything.
Qadir had told her before that he ran from his problems. That he had been fearful of her reaction to his confession of being an ifrit. This—what was this but an added layer? Another secret. She was already numb to them.