Her pulse jumped. “Don’t Loulie me. Lying by omission is still lying, Qadir.”
“I wanted to give you a purpose. Do you remember when we came to Madinne? Dahlia was having you deliver messages to earn your keep, but it wasn’t enough. You said the city was too small for you, that you wanted to go back into the desert.” He took a deep breath. “Before I met you, the compass was leading me to jinn so I could give them a place to exist after death. I knew what it felt like to be lost; I did not want others to suffer my fate, not even as relics. I thought you could help me keep their legacies alive while reaping the benefits.”
“You told me I would be a treasure hunter.” Loulie could feel the prickle of tears in her eyes; she rubbed furiously at them with her bandaged hand. “But these are more than lost treasures, Qadir. They’re priceless, living artifacts. And I’ve been affixing prices to them like they’re nothing but convenient tools.”
“It was wrong of me to keep that truth from you, I know. But think: the relics the compass leads us to belong to jinn like me—people who fled my world because they feared for their lives. There is no going back for them. Do you think it would have been better to leave them in the desert, abandoned and alone? At the very least, we can find them new homes, places with folk who understand and appreciate their magic.”
Loulie swallowed. Long ago, her father had given her a compass—a relic. He had not known the nature of its magic, only that it was valuable. He had thought it would guide her. And it had. Through it, Qadir had found her. But she was not so naive as to think all her customers would cherish relics this way.
“And who is to say those jinn would rather help humans than remain lost?”
Qadir smiled sadly. “No one knows what the dead want, Loulie. All we can do is honor them in the ways we understand. Where I come from, we cannot decide who our relics are passed on to, but we hope they will nonetheless guide the living. In your realm, I believe this is the form that remembrance takes. I do not believe what we are doing is wrong.”
Loulie knew Qadir was trying to win her over with reason, trying to soothe her frayed edges until she forgave him. He always did this—always backtracked after he made some mistake. And she always forgave him.
What if he lies to me again?
But—Qadir had saved her. When her tribe had perished and she alone was left to die, Qadir had appeared with his magic fire and rescued her. Layla Najima al-Nazari, he had said, it seems saving your life was my destiny. He had gestured to the compass she was holding—had shown her the red arrow pointing directly at her.
Qadir had done more than rescue her; he had given her life a purpose.
Her voice was thick with tears when she said, “You decided the course of my life without telling me the full truth. Had I not seen the ifrit’s magic tonight—had I not come to you with these concerns—would you have ever told me all of this?”
Qadir fixed his eyes—eyes smoky with desperation—on her and said, “Yes. When the time was right.”
“And when would the time ever be right?”
Qadir shook his head. “I know it was wrong of me to lie to you, Loulie, but you must understand: I am not accustomed to facing my mistakes. Always, I have run from them.”
She remembered words he’d spoken to her long ago: I was lost in your human desert and could not return home. That is why, when I tracked the compass to you, it saw fit to guide me down a different path. Your path. And when she had asked why he could not return, he’d simply said, Because I am no longer welcome there.
The last of her resistance snapped when he said, “I apologize. You deserved the full truth. I initially thought the compass had guided me to you because you were a way for me to fulfill my purpose.”
“And now?” She lowered the compass to her lap.
Qadir visibly relaxed. “You are not a tool; you are my charge.” He seemed to hesitate, then added, “If you disagree with this lifestyle, relinquish it.”
“Easy to offer me the alternative after it’s become my life.” She was the Midnight Merchant: seller of rare, magical items. Without the relics, she was nothing.
“I know it’s wrong. But it’s all I can offer. What we’re doing is not immoral, Loulie.”
“Says who?” She was suddenly tired. So very tired. “The compass? Do you let the jinn in here decide the morality of your actions too?”
“She is the most moral person I know,” Qadir said, unscathed. He held out a hand. Reluctantly, Loulie handed over the compass. But Qadir surprised her by gripping her hand. “The jinn in this compass was my savior. She freed me from a terrible fate and guided me through your desert so that I would not perish. I owe her everything, including my life.”
Loulie pulled her hand away with a glare. “You do not owe her my life.”
“Yes.” Qadir looked away, brow furrowed as he gazed at the stars. “Of course.”
An uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with questions and accusations. Loulie closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself. When she did, she was assaulted by memories that were not hers. She was shackled to a rock, preparing to die, thinking of Him. Qadir, she now realized.
“What happened in the diwan was only possible because you were dealing with an ifrit.” She opened her eyes and glanced at Qadir, who was speaking to the stars. “I told you before she can use death magic, which is what allowed her to show you the memories of the jinn in the compass. Only an ifrit would be powerful enough to interact with souls while confined in a relic.”
A breeze brushed up Loulie’s arms and made her shiver. She felt, very acutely, as if they were being watched. Qadir seemed to sense this as well. He reached into the bag of infinite space and pulled out the collar Omar had surrendered. The moment he held it in his hands, it flashed a muted silver and the feeling vanished. Loulie did not realize she had been holding her breath until she released it through cold lips.
“It is a good thing you found a way to steal this back. Doubtless, the ifrit would have possessed someone else if given the opportunity. With us, the relic can do no harm.”
“What did you do?”
“I bound its magic.”
“And you couldn’t have done this earlier, before…” Before Ahmed was forced to kill his comrades? She would never forget the agony in his eyes.
“No, even if I had been able to seal it, the relic needs to stay close to me. You saw how powerful the ifrit was. It will take great concentration to keep her contained.” Qadir patted the bag of infinite space. “From now on, this stays with me.”
Loulie stiffened. The bag was a lifeline to her business, and if Qadir had lied to her before, then maybe he had lied to her about other things. She’d opened her heart too much this day. “No,” she said sharply. “Find another way to carry the collar. I’m keeping the bag.”
She frowned at Qadir until he relented, pushing the bag back to her. “If you insist.”
“Forgive me for not trusting you after suffering your lies.”
Qadir’s expression fell. “Loulie, I’m—”
“Yes, I know. You’re sorry.” She hefted the bag over her shoulder. “I am returning to the wali’s manor. I told him I would be back, and…” She sighed. “I need some space to think, Qadir.”
She walked away without waiting for his response.
33
MAZEN
Mazen was listening for his shadow’s heartbeat when Aisha burst into his room like a storm cloud. He flinched back at the glare on her face. Though he’d mentally steeled himself for her rage, he was not prepared for the shame that suddenly overwhelmed him.
Yesterday, he’d been too mortified to admit to her that he’d forgotten the relic in Ahmed’s diwan. And after the battle, he’d been so alarmed by the sight of the black blood oozing from his skin that he’d fled to treat his wound in private. The doctors hadn’t batted a lash when he’d stolen some of their bandages—they’d been too busy dealing with potentially fatal injuries.