‘You’re the one who said it wouldn’t be a fair fight.’ Shazad got to her feet, sheathing the knife. The boy stumbled to his feet as well. I realised he was going to lunge for her again a second too late to shout a warning. But Shazad didn’t need one. She grabbed his hand as it closed on her shoulder, dropping to her knees, tipping him off balance as she went down. His own anger worked against him as he tumbled over her body and on to his back, slamming down hard again.
‘Besides, war isn’t fair.’ Shazad turned away, leaving him coughing in the dust. ‘But if you want to see a bit more of an even fight …’ She glanced around the circle, eyes finally landing on Jin. She summoned him forwards with a nod. He stepped into the makeshift arena with her, pulling off his shirt as he went. Across from me, among the line of new recruits, I saw one of the few girls who’d stood up to fight for Ahmed dash her eyes down to her feet, embarrassed, before looking back up quickly, eyebrows travelling up her forehead. Jin looked impressive enough with his shirt on, but without it, he was a wall of bare, lean muscles and tattoos against Shazad’s smaller frame. He rolled his shoulder, making his compass tattoo shift across his skin.
I stuck my fingers in my mouth, letting out a high whistle. Jin laughed, casting me a wink over his shoulder. I couldn’t remember the last time things had been so easy between all of us, the last time we’d been together like this. Not fighting for our lives, just living.
‘If they kill each other –’ Sam slid into the space Jin had left next to me – ‘does it mean you and I can finally stop these games and be together?’
Neither Shazad nor Jin moved straightaway, both eyeing each other at a safe distance. I’d seen them fight separately, but never one another. They’d trained Ahmed together, I remembered. Back before the Sultim trials, when he’d faced Kadir. They knew each other’s fighting styles. Neither one of them was going to strike in haste.
Shazad moved first, a straight lunge through Jin’s defences. He slammed an arm hard into hers, forearm deflecting as he aimed a blow for her side even as she twisted away from him. Breaking apart before they clashed together again. Before even catching her breath, Shazad aimed for Jin’s jaw, while he ducked out of the way, gaining a brief advantage as he dodged to her left before she dropped and rolled away from the blow that came her way.
They fought like a blur. She was quicker. He was stronger.
In the end, it happened so fast I almost missed it. Shazad snaked behind Jin, ducking under an arm as he swung, his knife suddenly out at his throat. Plucked from his belt without him ever noticing it was going.
Without thinking, my hand danced to Zaahir’s knife at my own side, the levity suddenly leaving me.
But Jin laughed as Shazad released him, tossing his blade back to him. ‘Anyone else?’ Shazad asked, spreading her arms wide. Nobody stepped forward. Whatever else it might take to train our new recruits, I didn’t think Shazad would have to worry about them following her lead.
‘Blue-Eyed Bandit,’ Samir called, eyes sparkling in the way of someone who didn’t really understand that fighting meant blood. Meant death, not adventure. ‘Are you going to fight her?’
‘Now that wouldn’t be a fair fight,’ Shazad said.
‘No,’ I agreed, and when Shazad turned around, she was staring down the barrel of my gun. I winked at my friend. ‘It wouldn’t.’
Shazad pulled something out of her pocket: an orange, harvested that morning from the chest buried in the mountain. She tossed it up in the air, a high arc. I tracked the thing with the barrel of my gun all the way to its highest point. And right before it began its descent, I fired.
The orange fell to the ground, a mess of pulp and shredded rind.
‘Now,’ Shazad said, turning back around to the recruits, ‘let’s start again. Who thinks that they can shoot like Amani?’
*
‘Will they be ready by the time we reach Izman?’ Ahmed asked that evening. Shazad had run everyone ragged before she finally released them to go to the prayers that Tamid was leading at sunset.
Tamid stood where, just a few days past, I’d seen my brother bless the gathered men and women. He led them in prayer for Noorsham’s soul, long may it defend us. And for the safety of those who had stood up to fight with Ahmed.
It was strange watching him; he seemed at home. Like standing in front of our people, our families, was where he had always been destined to be. I’d thought we were both too crooked to fit in this place. But he belonged here in a way I never had. Or never wanted to.
I belonged with the Rebellion.
Instead of going to prayers, the Rebellion gathered in a small tent propped up against one of the few remaining walls of what used to be Sazi. The last of the daylight filtered red through the tent casting a flame-like glow across our faces.
With all of us here, it was like a faraway echo of something familiar. Of our old camp and all the times we’d gathered like this to make a plan. Except now, everyone looked like shadows of themselves. Ahmed, Shazad and Delila were worn ragged. Smudged with pain and exhaustion, and something else, too: the first-hand knowledge of the suffering the Sultan was putting this country through. Of what one man could do to all of us from on high. Of what it would mean for those who lived if we lost this war, those we left behind under the rule of a man who had sent hordes of people to Eremot.
We were like a faded picture in a book that had lost a lot of its gilt.
‘Do you think we should take the new recruits with us?’ Ahmed asked.
‘I don’t think we can afford to turn away any extra able bodies,’ Shazad said.
‘Even if they’re extra bodies to feed and supply?’ I could hear the question Ahmed was really asking: Even if we might just be leading them to their deaths?
Our general cast a fleeting glance my way before she carried on quickly. ‘Assuming we can shut that machine down then this is a fight that’s going to be won on numbers.’
‘Hell, we might need them before we get into Iliaz. What with the new foreign friends Bilal has been making.’ It slipped out irritably, though I hadn’t meant it to. Rahim and Ahmed both looked at me blankly. They hadn’t been gone all that long, but a whole lot of Miraji had changed in that time. I’d been leading this rebellion, and now I had to give that power back to Ahmed. I’d thought it would be a relief. I guess I’d gotten a little used to the weight while he’d been gone. ‘Things have changed while you’ve been in Eremot. And you know, it might not kill you from time to time to talk to someone who knows about this desert.’ The words were coming out in a torrent now, my accent getting thicker as I went. ‘For one, I reckon I could’ve told you how the people here would react to us returning without Noorsham. We might’ve spared Delila needing to save all our necks. And another thing I can tell you is that Iliaz is crawling with Albish. They’re looking to make an alliance with the Gallan and move on Izman together. And the way I see it, if two of our enemies turn on us at once, we’re done for. Whether we can take that throne or not. We won’t hold it.’ Ahmed listened to me, pressing a knuckle against a spot at his hairline as I told them what they had missed. That to get to Izman we would have to get through Leyla’s inventions and our foreign enemies. That Iliaz was occupied. I pointed at Rahim. ‘Your Lord Bilal is helping, too, giving them passage through the mountains, and if we don’t get this right, we’re going to find ourselves facing more enemies than we can handle before we even see the city.’
‘My men are following orders,’ Rahim said defensively. ‘They’re not traitors to their country.’
‘We’re all traitors to our country,’ Jin pointed out. He was sitting with one knee propped up, his arm slung lazily over it, but his focus wasn’t to be mistaken. He didn’t trust Rahim. Not even if Ahmed and Delila were treating him as their brother. Not even if he was Jin’s brother, too. ‘We need them to be traitors for us. What happens if they’re not as loyal to you as you think they are?’