“But do not worry, my love,” Maram continued. “We will take them to your father, and then we will have them executed at your command, so that all your subjects will know how much you love me.”
He knew. His vicious grin gave it all away. He knew that we had not kidnapped Zahrah, that she had come with us of her own accord. And he knew that she cared for us, though I could not imagine he knew why or how much. That didn’t matter to him. He had five creatures to torment, using our pain against each other, and when he was done he would get to keep her to torment further. Saoud couldn’t reach for me with the guards behind us, but he did lean into my shoulder as much as he dared. The weight of him, slight as it was, reminded me that I could still die here in the sand if I did something reckless.
On my other side, Arwa hadn’t so much as flinched at the prince’s declaration, and I was inordinately proud of her. Tariq was breathing slowly, measured air going in and out, like he was spinning and wanted to match his breathing to the rhythm of his work. I took a deep breath and tried to do the same thing, but I felt it slip away from me immediately.
“Get them on their feet,” the prince said.
“What about the girl?” said one of the guards.
Maram looked at Arwa for the first time, measuring her worth, as if one such as he could possibly fathom it.
“She has made her choice,” he said. “She can live with it, for the time she has left.”
He turned then and went back toward the encampment. They had not brought their horses with them, so we would all walk. The guards who stood with Zahrah led her behind their prince, while the rest of them turned their attention to us.
They did not bind us. There was no reason to. The desert had been a poor escape plan, as we had already learned, and there were many more of them than there were of us. Even if they needed to get a horse from their camp, they would still run us down soon enough if we made a break for it. Instead they searched us, taking knives and belts and going through our packs. None of these were returned, except for Arwa’s. The guard who looked through her things was the same guard who had carried her out of the cave. He removed nearly everything from her pack, and then made a face like he had accidentally touched a hot cooking pot before returning the bag to her. One of his comrades leaned over to question him, and I did not hear the murmured reply, but clearly all the guards who did were in agreement.
I looked at Arwa, whose face was a determined mask. She looked at me for a brief second and her eyes flashed with something like satisfaction, though I couldn’t guess the cause. Saoud looked relieved as well, and I wondered what in the world Arwa was carrying that she was so glad to keep while the men who had captured us were equally glad to let her. She pulled her veil over her face, as Zahrah had done, and I wished it was a bit windier so that the rest of us would have the excuse to do the same with our kafiyyahs. As it was, we were forced to march toward the camp with every defense taken from us.
The camp was a messy place, laid out with no regard for order or basic sanitation. We were taken to a small tent, and the four of us were shoved inside with little ceremony. I knew that there would be at least two guards posted outside, and that the thin walls of the tent would do nothing to cover the sound of our voices if we tried to speak to one another.
So we sat in silence and discomfort again, and waited for an end we did not know; though we knew it would be a while before we saw it. I thought of my mother, and wondered if she would ever learn what had become of me. She would have heard about Zahrah’s kidnapping, of course. She might have seen the prince ride past on his way to her rescue. I didn’t know if she would guess my part in it, if she would take the pieces—my leaving her, Zahrah’s disappearance, the executions—and spin them into the thread of the true tale. I wanted her to die at peace, if she could. As I almost certainly would not.
But that was not my thread to spin.
THE GUARD CAME FOR ARWA as soon as the sun rose the next morning. We hadn’t been given any blankets, so we had all slept in a pile together against the chill of the desert night. It had taken a long time to fall asleep, since we were spun so tight and stretching at the seams, and so we were groggy when the flap was opened. When we saw the guard’s intent, Saoud did finally fight him. It was over before I could join in, with Saoud bleeding from the mouth and nose, and Arwa gone anyway with not so much as a glance from the guard who carried her. When I tried to open the tent flap to see where they were taking her, I was pushed back with a staff to the belly. It was the first time anyone had ever hit me outside of the practice ring, and it was several minutes before I could breathe properly.