“You’re smiling,” Qadir said warily.
She finished packing up the last of the relics and hefted the bag of infinite space over her shoulder. “Aren’t you excited to hear the stories about Dhahab?”
Qadir snorted. “Hardly. You humans make up the most ridiculous tall tales.”
“What do you expect us to do? It’s not as if any of us have been there.” Loulie kept her eyes out for Rasul as they walked through the souk. She was curious about his merchandise. “And,” she added pointedly, “you won’t tell me anything about it.”
Qadir shrugged. “I am no storyteller.”
She rolled her eyes. “Kalam farigh. You don’t need to be a storyteller to tell me about your home.” Dhahab was another one of Qadir’s many secrets. He never went into any detail about it; it had taken him long enough to tell her he was from the great jinn city.
“You want to know more about Dhahab? It has sand and sun and jinn.”
Loulie smiled; she couldn’t help it. “Oh, I feel so enlightened.”
“As you should be.” Qadir looked dangerously close to a smile himself.
They turned down a bend in the pathway and came into the heart of the souk, where the most experienced merchants sold their goods. Loulie knew most of these people by name and had bartered with them before, offering magic for tools. This was where she had acquired Qadir’s shamshir, trading a relic—a glass filled with fire that sparked to life at a single touch—for the blade.
She eyed the smith’s shop in passing, noting the array of swords and knives hanging on the mounted wooden boards. The dagger Qadir had given her was not nearly as ornate as any of the weapons on that display, but she could not imagine replacing it. Her hand went to a hidden pocket in her robe, where she could feel the shape of the enchanted blade.
Small but lethal, she thought. And then she remembered her encounter with the shadow jinn and grimaced. The next time she was in a fight, she would make sure she did not lose.
The two of them had still not found Rasul as they approached the outskirts, but Loulie was unconcerned. There would be more opportunities to find him before they left for the desert. For tonight, she was done with the souk.
She was approaching the entrance when she heard the shouts. The same call, rising and rising in a panicked crescendo that made her vision darken with fear.
“Rat!” they cried. “Rat in the souk!”
Someone had revealed the location of the market to the sultan’s guard.
The alarm went up at once, crashing through the market like a tidal wave. From there, the pandemonium swelled. Loulie heard the hiss of metal and the fleeing footsteps of merchants and customers. They came in droves, pushing her in too many directions at once. Someone stepped on her foot—hard—and she nearly toppled. Qadir grabbed her before she hit the ground.
“We need to move.” His voice was soft but firm, an anchor in the chaos.
Loulie sharpened her fear into a plan. There were many entrances to the souk. If these were the sultan’s men, they had likely come from an entrance closer to the noble quarter. “We leave the way we came,” she said.
Qadir nodded. He took the lead so as to shield her against the surging crowds, which grew more frantic by the moment. Loulie spotted one of the sultan’s men amidst the chaos, struggling to capture a woman in dark blue robes. He’d just grabbed her arm when a man rushed him from behind and knocked him to the ground. “Get off my wife!”
The woman screamed as her husband grappled with the guard. And then—
The glimmer of a sword. A splash of crimson. The husband fell, gripping his injured arm. The guard regained his footing, holding a sword dripping with the man’s blood. He turned and caught her gaze. His eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Qadir rammed an elbow into his head and knocked him unconscious.
Loulie stumbled back. They’re looking for me. She knew it with certainty then. Knew it was the reason they had tried to capture the woman in blue.
“They have the area secured.” Qadir pointed, and Loulie followed his gesture to the entrance they had come from. Guards had already congregated, blocking the way out. “What’s your plan, Loulie?”
She pressed a fist to her forehead. Think. You’ve gotten out of scuffles with ghouls! With jinn! Think! But with jinn and ghouls, she could solve her problems with a blade. In this situation, there were repercussions for assault.
A call rose from the center of the souk, not far from where they stood. “Midnight Merchant, the sultan summons you!” The voice had the deep, booming quality of thunder. “Step forward, or we shall burn this place and everyone in it to the ground!”
Everyone was looking at her now. An older man lurched forward to grab her, but Qadir shoved him back before he could touch her. He looked at her expectantly, urgently. She knew that if she commanded him to find a way out, he would. He would burn a path if it was necessary. But then what? She could not run for long. This was the sultan’s city.
She squeezed her eyes shut. The people around her knew the dangers of the illegal market. She had no reason to give herself up for any of them. And yet…
I will not let anyone die for me.
“Loulie?” This close, Qadir’s eyes shimmered gold, as if a fire had ignited in them.
She tapped the knife hidden in her pocket. “Find me.”
Qadir hesitated. When he glanced at the bag on her shoulder, she shook her head and mouthed the word Insurance. She was not the Midnight Merchant without her relics, after all.
The two of them looked at each other for a long moment before the threat came again. Slowly, Qadir retreated into the crowds. Loulie took a deep breath and continued forward. The crowds parted without a command.
The sultan’s guards stood at the center of the souk in a half circle with Dahlia bint Adnan in the middle. Despite the fact that her shawl was in tatters and her long black hair was in disarray, she still looked every inch the proud tavernkeeper. She appeared just as surprised to see Loulie as Loulie was to see her.
For a few moments, the two stared at each other. Then, quietly, Dahlia pressed her lips together and stepped aside. Loulie approached the guards, hands raised.
“You wanted to see me?”
It was an effort to keep herself from fighting back as they pulled the bag of infinite space off her shoulder and shackled her hands behind her back. The raid leader, the man with the booming voice, watched the proceedings stoically.
Loulie glared at him. “So this is how the sultan treats those he summons?”
He laughed. “I can assure you he has nothing but the utmost respect for you, Midnight Merchant. If he did not, you and all your criminal friends would already be burned to cinders.” He turned and barked orders at his men. When the way was cleared, the guards led Loulie back through the crowds and up toward the moonlit world.
She cast one final look back at Dahlia. The tavernkeeper put a hand to her chest and bowed. Good luck, she mouthed. Loulie held tight to those words, useless as they were.
Blessedly, the souk aboveground was empty, the lanterns snuffed out, which meant there were barely any citizens around to witness her public humiliation. Every once in a while, shutters snapped open and people peered through their windows at her. When they did, Loulie made sure they saw her with her head held high. She was the only woman in a sea of men, and she did not intend to look frail or pathetic. Never mind that she felt frail and pathetic.