‘There will be a great deal of death here tomorrow.’
The voice slithered unexpectedly out of the darkness, making me turn around sharply. There was a man standing a few paces behind me. I could only see an outline of him against the light from the tents, but I could tell he was wearing one of the uniforms of Iliaz. One of ours, then. I relaxed.
I hadn’t realised how far I’d strayed until I looked back. I was halfway between my people and my enemy’s city, on the edge of straying outside the bounds of Delila’s illusion. Now I saw it laid out below me, colourful tents dotted across the sands, lit up by the campfires and oil lamps. From here it looked like thousands of lanterns littering the desert, screaming defiance against the encroaching night.
‘Did Rahim send you to fetch me back?’ I asked the soldier. There was no other reason he’d be this far out from camp as well.
The silhouetted man seemed unnaturally still. ‘No, he didn’t send me. No man commands me any more.’
It was a strange answer given in a strange accent. And it was strange that he had been able to sneak up on me, too. I drew back a cautious step, glancing behind him to see if I might be able to dodge around him, outrun him back to the tents. That was when I noticed he hadn’t left any footprints in the sand. And I let out a breath. Not strange, then. Just not human.
‘Zaahir,’ I greeted the Djinni.
‘Daughter of Bahadur.’ I still couldn’t see his face in the darkness. It was unsettling. ‘It seems you’ve discarded another chance to save your prince.’
‘I didn’t discard anything. I just gave it to someone else.’ If the Sin Maker’s gift was real, Shazad was now untouchable in battle. ‘Someone who needs it.’
He shook his head, like some mockery of a disappointed human expression he had seen and was doing a bad imitation of now. A sorrowful gesture without any real sorrow. ‘You wouldn’t kill a prince. You wouldn’t kiss a prince. What am I to do with you, daughter of Bahadur?’
‘I think you’ve done enough.’
He ignored me. ‘Luckily, I have one more gift for you.’
‘I don’t want any more of your gifts, Zaahir.’ I was tired. Too tired to argue with him, to try to outsmart him in whatever game he was playing with me this time.
‘Trust me, you want this one, daughter of Bahadur.’ He pulled a ring off his finger and offered it to me. I didn’t reach out for it. This tasted of a trick. I just wasn’t sure what the trick was yet. ‘Take it,’ Zaahir urged. ‘I made a promise that I am bound to keep: to give you what you want.’
‘And what is it that I want?’ I asked.
‘You want to live,’ Zaahir said simply. I felt the chasm of fear I’d been trying to look away from all these weeks open inside me anew. And even in the dark I could tell he was smirking. Because we both knew he was right. More than anything, that was what I wanted. He turned the ring so that it caught the light from the camp, drawing my eye. It was a bronze band with a single bauble mounted on it. But when I looked closer, I saw that it wasn’t a gemstone or a pearl. It looked like glass, and inside there was a shifting, colourless light. ‘You want to release Fereshteh’s soul and stay alive. Fereshteh’s endless fire has to go somewhere. But you don’t need to burn. It can be contained inside this ring. All you have to do, once you are near enough to the machine, is smash the glass on this ring. And all that immortal energy, it will not lash out and annihilate you like an insect in the path of a fire. The ring will draw the fire instead. Absorb it like water dashed across the sand. Instead of swelling up to drown you. And you, little Demdji, you can live.’
It still felt like a trick. I knew enough stories of the Djinn to know that if it seemed too good to be true, then it probably was. But it was too late to stop the jump of hope in my chest that came with his words. And as I stared at the ring, I could feel the hope seducing me.
I thought of being in Eremot with Zaahir. The way he had simply touched the Abdals and their light went out. It had been like watching their spark get sucked into a greater fire. I remembered how he had reached out a hand and Ashra’s Wall had shattered harmlessly. He had some power over Djinni fire that I didn’t understand.
And Zaahir was right. I didn’t want to die. It didn’t matter how far I’d come across the desert. A part of me would always be that selfish girl from Dustwalk bent on surviving.
My hand closed around the ring. And then suddenly, like a shadow disappearing into the night, Zaahir was gone.
And I was holding my salvation in my hand.
Chapter 36
It didn’t take me long to find Jin. He was on the edge of camp, where he’d pitched his tent, as far as he could get from Ahmed without giving himself over to the desert completely.
His eyes were closed, and a bottle of something dangled loosely in his fingers. He didn’t hear me, or if he did, he didn’t care. He didn’t even look up when I sank down next to him. His head tipped back against the side of his tent, eyes closed.
‘So, are you planning on finishing the whole bottle, or are you going to share?’
His eyes snapped open. A long silence stretched between us as I turned my head so that our gazes met. Until finally he handed me the booze. I took a swig and made a face. ‘You couldn’t find something better?’
‘Two weeks in Iliaz and you’re suddenly an expert on fine wine?’ His tone was light, but his eyes never left me, looking for answers to why I was here.
‘I’m just saying –’ I took another swig – ‘I know we’ve got something better than this around here.’
‘Yeah, well, the good liquor is being saved to drink to victory tomorrow.’ Jin prised the bottle out of my hands, taking a swig. I read a whole lot in that silence. That there wasn’t going to be a tomorrow for a whole lot of people. But we were all acting like this might not be our last night alive. And now that included me. ‘So, Blue-Eyed Bandit.’ He didn’t look at me when he spoke again. ‘Did you just come to torture me, or is there another reason you’re here?’
‘Why?’ I challenged, watching him carefully, my blood racing in my ears. I knew what I’d come for. I just didn’t know if I was ready to say it yet. ‘You don’t want me here?’
‘You already know what I want, Amani.’ Jin’s voice carving out my name was low and rough with feeling, and it shattered the last of my pretence, sinking a hook into my chest and pulling me towards him.