“We know, Zahrah,” Tariq said. I was still amazed that he could use her name at all, let alone at a time like this; despite her attire and circumstance, everything about her gave her away as our princess. “We won’t let him.”
“How?” she said, letting Arwa take her back behind the screen, and then helping the shorter girl rehang the blanket.
“We’re going to run,” said Saoud. “Now, before he crosses the pass.”
“Where can we possibly go?” I asked, but in my heart I knew his answer. There was only one road for spinners, in the end.
“The desert,” Saoud said. “We’ll cross the northern part of Kharuf, and find our way into the desert. There are oases there that aren’t on the Silk Road, and that is where people will look for us. We will find a safe place, and we will stay there as we stay here.”
“How long will that hide us for?” the Little Rose asked.
“Long enough for us to come up with a way to break the curse,” I told her. “Or long enough to learn that we can’t.”
Saoud looked at me, not comprehending, and I explained about the gnome and the garden.
“How will we find the Storyteller Queen’s creatures if we leave the mountains?” asked Arwa, emerging from behind the screen with the trousers in her hands. The Little Rose was behind her, clad again in her dress.
“There is nothing certain in magic,” I told them, even though they knew it. “But there is hope there.”
“When must we leave?” The Little Rose loosened the laces on her left shoe, and retied the knot. I watched her carefully for any sign that the headache had returned. You could make a carpet out of knots, after all, so tying her shoes might count toward her curse.
“Tomorrow?” Saoud said it like a question, looking at Tariq.
“The day after,” he said. “And that’s if you spare Arwa to help me sew.”
“Tariq is right,” I said. “They can’t stay up all night sewing and then walk all day, even if it is downhill.”
“Fine,” Saoud said. “But I want you to show me the glade.”
The Little Rose watched as we made plans and worked on repairs. We did not resent her inaction, of course, but I found that she made me anxious, watching us as she did. If she found us wanting as protectors, she might leave us. Worse, she could turn us in. I was certain she wouldn’t, not after the days we had spent here, but I could understand that she might want to, even if it meant a return to her tower and prison of a marriage bargain.
“We should stop for now,” Saoud said, though there was still plenty to do. “We can work tomorrow, but sleep is important too.”
“I’ll take the watch,” I said. “I haven’t walked as much as you have in the past few days.”
“I’ll come with you,” Saoud said. “I can relieve you later, and there is room for two in the lookout.”
We bid good night to the others, and watched Tariq bank the fire to ensure that he would actually sleep. He could sew in the dark, I knew, but not well, and I was reasonably certain he would insist on his best work for the Little Rose, even if it was only alterations on a secondhand tunic. Then I followed Saoud up the slope, and we climbed into the tree to keep watch.
It was as dark as it ever got in the mountains. There was no moon, and the stars gave only enough light for the black peaks to shine in muted reflection of the light. This was the rest of the Storyteller Queen’s gift, of course; the creatures to protect us when they could, and the iron ore to weaken the demons and to give us weapons with which to fight them. I felt my own knife, the weight of it hanging from my belt, a comfort against the darkness, even though I knew that in a fight against a sword it would be next to useless. The Maker King’s son was rumored to be good with a sword.
“You cut her hair,” Saoud said, after a silence that was so long I thought he had fallen asleep.
“She asked,” I replied. “She said when it gets too long, she braids it. She shouldn’t, of course, so she asked me to cut it off.”
“We thought about getting henna for her,” Saoud said. “But Arwa said that disguising her hair would only make it more obvious, even if we did Arwa’s too. She’s better with just the veil.”
He was silent for another stretch, and I looked out at the stars.
“Do you really think we can break the curse?” he said. We’d had too few quiet moments, he and I. I knew what it meant, his asking now; he thought we might have a chance. Before, his silence had shown his doubt. Now he had hope, even as the rest of us did.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I want to. For my mother, and for her.”
“My father always told me that someday, you and your mother would return to your roots, and I would be reminded that I would never be one of you.” I couldn’t see Saoud’s face in the dark, which meant he couldn’t see mine. I wanted him to. I wanted him to see my expression when I spoke.
“But you are,” I said to him. “You always have been, I think. At least since we learned to fight together.”