Spindle (A Thousand Nights #2)

“Wait until it’s fully dark,” I decided.

Saoud sat down beside me and glanced at the Little Rose. He had not spoken much to her, or to me really, for the whole day. I could tell that it was upsetting Arwa. Saoud and the Little Rose were both heroes to her, in vastly different ways, and to have them at odds made her quiet. I didn’t much like it either, but I understood. Saoud had no heritage with the Little Rose, no reason to fall naturally into her service. No reason to accept her undeniable burden.

“Why does she trust you?” he said to me, after a long silence. “She remembers Tariq, and vaguely remembers you, but that shouldn’t be enough. Explain it to me.”

I looked at the Little Rose. It was not my story to tell, though while we waited for the sun to set, there was at least time to tell some secrets.

“It’s the gift, Saoud,” Arwa said, either not seeing the tension or having no patience for it. I suspected the latter.

The Little Rose was sitting with her legs tucked under the hem of her dress. She stuck her feet out now, and even in the growing darkness, we could see they were nearly a ruin. Blisters lined her toes and the places where Arwa’s shoes pinched too tightly. Welts had formed across the backs of her heels, and her ankles were swollen. Soon she would have to walk on them again.

“Did you wonder, Saoud,” said the Little Rose, “how I lived in a small room for years and years, and yet kept up with you today? Did you wonder how I could follow Yashaa down the rope, when he is a strong boy and I am only a wisp of a girl?”

“Zahrah,” breathed Tariq, who had always believed. “Your poor feet.”

She glanced at him fondly, as though they had never been apart, and then looked back at Saoud.

“The phoenix’s gift was rebirth,” she said. “I tire and I sicken and I ache, and yet I go on. If I were a warrior, strong in body and trained to seek perfection, I would be nearly unstoppable. Alas, I am a girl who was kept in a tower, and my body is weak, except for the fact that it is nearly indestructible.”

“My lady, I am sorry,” Saoud said, his voice still twisted. “Forgive my ignorance.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Saoud,” she said. “Or at least, if there is, it is I who ought to ask your forgiveness. I know all of my weaknesses, and still I forced my company upon you. Indeed, I used my gifts to ensure it.”

“How then, princess?” he asked, lapsing into formal speech as she had done. That made me feel a little bit better. I didn’t know why I couldn’t help but treat her as my princess. She made me uncomfortable, stirring memories and feelings I hadn’t considered in more than half my lifetime. It made me feel very unbalanced to see Tariq and Arwa treat her almost like she was an old friend.

“The dragon’s gift is discernment,” said the Little Rose. “I believe with dragons, the ability is used to determine the value of things: gold, jewelry, the construction of houses and the like. For me, when I combine it with the unicorn’s gift—to see the truth—it lets me gauge the intentions of a person. I knew when I saw Yashaa that he would see me to safety, even though in his own heart he is not so sure of himself. He has many feelings, but in all ways he is honest. And that is why I knew to trust him.”

I prayed that it was too dark for them to see how hotly my face burned at her words. I had known since I was six years old that the gifts of the Little Rose were as real as my own nose and teeth, but to hear her explain them—to hear her explain me, and so bluntly—was nearly painful.

“And so you trust me?” Saoud said. “Because you trust Yashaa?”

“I trust you,” said the Little Rose, “because you love Yashaa.”

“Of course he does,” said Arwa. “He loves all of us.”

Saoud floundered for words for a moment, unused to being so freely talked about. Arwa smiled at him so sweetly that I nearly laughed at the absurdity of everything that had transpired since I climbed the tower, and when Saoud glared at me again, it was with no small measure of amusement.

“Will you be able to walk?” he asked the Little Rose. “Will the shoes even go back on?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” she said, and began the painful process, with Arwa’s help on the laces.

“So, discernment and stamina, and seeing the truth,” Saoud said. “What else?”

Tariq helped her to her feet. She took two steps, wincing, and then seemed to bear down on the pain, accepting it and steadying herself in its wake.

“Presumably I will be very good at growing things, should the need arise,” she said. “That is from the gnome. The sprite gave me a lightness of spirit, which I have always believed is what keeps me sane.”

“What about the piskey?” Saoud asked, and I knew that we had reached the heart of it.

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