Junaid looked up sharply. “That is not a joke to be made in our line of work.”
She raised a brow. “And Samar calls me touchy.” She followed the thief to the door, eyeing the scant display of relics in passing. Weapons, jewelry, clothing—it was mystifying, how many shapes a relic could take.
“You could borrow one.” Junaid gestured to the display. “For your next fight.”
Aisha thought of the black blood staining the prince’s hand. She had never trusted jinn magic; now she trusted it even less.
“No.” She rested her hand on the hilt of one of her blades. “I don’t need them.”
Junaid shrugged his pointy shoulders. “Suit yourself.” He pushed open the door. Paused on the threshold. “I’ll look forward to toasting your loyalty when you return to Madinne.”
Aisha scoffed. “Loyalty isn’t loyalty if it’s contingent on a reward.”
Again, Junaid smiled the dead man’s grin. “Wise words, bint Louas. Wise words.”
She waited for his footsteps to fade down the hall before she followed him downstairs. The thief doubtless had his own exit—it would be impossible to slip that gigantic bag through such narrow cracks.
Aisha, on the other hand, felt unburdened. Their journey hadn’t been a smooth one so far, but they were making progress, and that was the important thing.
Just as Aisha did not mourn the past, she also did not overthink the future. Right now, there was only the present. And in the present, she was one step closer to being done with this hellish journey. But first—she needed a horse.
35
LOULIE
The morning after the fight in the diwan, Loulie woke with a heavy heart. Her dread only worsened when, after blinking sunlight out of her eyes, she found herself lying in one of the wali’s guest rooms, no Qadir in sight. At first, she was irritated at him for having disappeared. But then she remembered she had been the one to walk away.
She had confronted him. He had apologized. What else was there to do but accept his apology and move on? Qadir had saved her life, had given her the magic to protect herself. Their bond was stronger than this fight. And yet she still felt broken. Still felt hurt.
Loulie sighed as she turned to her preparations for the day. She bathed in one of the wali’s private bath chambers, donned her merchant robes and bag, outlined her eyes in kohl, and then set out to meet with Ahmed.
The guards led her into the courtyard, past the diwan, and up to a landscape of ponds and crisscrossing bridges. The wali stood on the longest bridge, a beautiful wooden construct with rails that curved and spiraled like eddies. The bridge hung above a pond: flowered cacti surrounded the water, and golden daisies and marigolds grew between the smooth stones edging their way out of the pond’s surface. Sissoo trees loomed above them, speckling the silver water with shards of sunlight.
Ahmed stared at all of this blankly. He turned only when the guards announced her presence. And then, as he always did, he forced a smile onto his face. It was the most halfhearted smile she’d ever seen on him, made even less convincing by the dark circles under his eyes. She noticed he was garbed entirely in white: the color of prayer.
“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite guest. How goes the morning, Midnight Merchant?”
“Mundane.” She despised the world for continuing on like normal, even though Ahmed’s life was falling apart.
Ahmed sighed. “Indeed.” He waved a hand at the guards. “You may leave us.” The command took the guards as far as the next bridge. Ahmed chuckled without humor at her confusion. “They are wary of me, and for good reason.” She realized it was the truth. The guards weren’t securing the area; they were securing Ahmed. She could feel their eyes from a distance.
Her stomach sank. “But why? What happened last night wasn’t your fault.”
She had been in his chambers last night when he explained what had happened. He had, without knowing why, been carrying the collar around while preparing for his meeting. He’d been in the jinn-made forest when it started speaking to him. Before he’d known what he was doing, he’d clasped it around his neck and become a prisoner in his own mind.
It was the stuff of nightmares. Loulie knew; she had nearly fallen under the same spell.
Ahmed smiled. A sad, stiff smile. “Unfortunately, it’s difficult to blame murder on a very formless, very dead jinn.”
Not if that jinn may be the legendary Queen of Dunes.
“Why not? Prince Mazen was possessed. He injured people too.” She approached him slowly, fingers trailing the wooden rails.
“Injury is not permanent. Death is.” His throat bobbed at the last words, and he paused to stare at their reflections as he composed himself. Loulie yearned to reach out and… pat his shoulder? Draw him into her arms? She didn’t know. The thought of trying to comfort him terrified her. She was good at fanning flames, not putting them out.
“I’m to visit Madinne in a few days’ time,” he said, breaking her from her thoughts. “I’ve already sent a letter to the sultan. I leave my fate in his hands.”
Loulie did touch him then—grabbing his sleeve and yanking him toward her so she could glare into his face. “You don’t mean that. You aren’t a criminal, Ahmed.”
Ahmed blinked at her, mouth agape. Loulie wanted to shake him until he murmured, “You said my name.” There was wonder in his eyes.
Given the circumstances, there was absolutely no reason for her to be blushing. But damned fool that she was, she was blushing anyway. “Yes, I did. But your name was not the point.”
Her fingers were still clenched when Ahmed pulled her hand from his sleeve. He loosened her fist and laced his fingers through hers. Loulie stiffened. They had held hands like this before, but Ahmed’s grip had never been so tight, his hold on her so desperate.
Normally, this was when she pulled away. Ahmed had always given her space when she became overwhelmed. He had never chased after her. He’d simply smiled and waited for her to return.
But the man holding her hand now was a shattered version of himself. The least she could do was be here for him. No, she wanted to be here for him. So this time, she did not pull away.
Ahmed smiled at her—that broken smile that made her heart sink—before turning his gaze to the water. “A criminal is charged by their actions, not their intentions.” When he saw Loulie’s reflection grimacing at him, he sighed and said, “I will tell the sultan what happened. Nothing more, nothing less. He is a just man; I trust his sentence.”
Just. It was the last word she would use to describe the sultan.
Loulie didn’t know how long they stood there, watching ripples spread and break on the surface of the water, before Ahmed broke the silence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. But the jinn…” His hand shook in her grip. “I couldn’t move. I…”
“I told you already. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I could have killed you.” His voice was whisper soft now. “I almost killed you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Loulie.” She startled when he turned toward her. There was an urgency in his eyes that had not been there before. “That relic—you don’t truly plan on taking it with you, do you? It will consume you.”
“No.” She hesitated, and then, because the situation seemed to call for it, she squeezed his hand and said, “I’m the Midnight Merchant. Relics don’t possess me; I possess them.” She had meant for the remark to lighten the mood, but Ahmed’s expression only dampened further at her words. “You remember my bodyguard? He has a means of neutralizing the relic; I trust him.”
“Your bodyguard…” Ahmed furrowed his brow. “He wasn’t there last night, was he?”