By the time I had recovered, Saoud’s nose had stopped bleeding. Tariq was sitting up, his face pale as he watched us, though he gave no other sign of distress. I was so proud of him, and of Arwa too, even though I wanted their freedom more than I wanted their strength.
“What can we do?” Tariq asked. It was the first time any of us had really spoken in hours, and it was a question I did not know the answer to.
“I think we must do our best to survive the trip back to the castle,” I said. “We can’t give the prince any reason to kill us between now and then.”
“So we can die in Kharuf, before the king and queen themselves?” Saoud asked.
“I don’t think Qasim and Rasima would allow it,” I said. “They will listen to Zahrah. They might even recognize us, or at least the resemblance to our parents. I don’t think they would really execute us.”
“The prince would,” Saoud pointed out. “What if he makes it a condition of his marriage? What if he calls Zahrah’s reputation into question and says the only way for her to clear it is for her to give the order? What if it is a choice between us and Kharuf?”
He hadn’t said anything I had not already thought of, but hearing it in words made it worse. He was right, of course. The Maker King’s son was as cruel as the rumors suggested, and it was clear he wanted us to die—not just for some perception of justice, but because it would hurt Zahrah and show her that she was in his control.
“It is the only hope we have,” Tariq said.
I was so tired of hope, but it had got us this far, and even though we were fools to trust it, Tariq was right. We fell silent again, aware that there were guards outside, and listened to the camp move around us. They must have been preparing to pack up and go back to Kharuf, but they were clearly no more orderly now than they had been when establishing camp in the first place. It was aggravating to be idle, even though there was nothing we could possibly do. My only consolation was that whatever they were doing to Arwa could not have been too painful, because we did not hear her scream.
After what felt like an eternity, Arwa was dumped through the tent flap. Saoud caught her around the waist and pulled her toward him, checking automatically for injuries to her head and hands.
“It’s all right, I’m all right,” she said, pushing him off. Still, she sat right next to him when he let her be.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You were right about the demon,” Arwa said. “It’s here, and it wants Zahrah very badly. Only, it was angry because she’s not good enough at making things. They made me sew with her, and they’re getting a loom for this afternoon. I told her that Yashaa was the only weaver, so they’d take him next.”
I was a decent enough weaver, though I lacked practice. I could put up a show of it, though, and presumably if they needed us to teach Zahrah how to do it, there was no one of their number that was particularly skilled. Selfishly, I was glad that I would get out of the tent, not to mention see her again.
“How is she?” Tariq asked.
“She’s fine,” Arwa said. “We couldn’t talk very much. The demon watched us while we worked. It was terrible, Yashaa. Its eyes were terrible, and it wouldn’t stop looking. Zahrah kept working, though, like it didn’t bother her at all. She’s so brave, Yashaa. She’s our princess.”
It was cold comfort, but it was better than nothing. We had nothing to eat for breakfast, and no lunch was brought either. After our long days on trail rations, we were used to light meals, or missing them altogether, but they hadn’t brought us any water, and that was going to be a more immediate problem. We had not drunk a lot yesterday while we were in hiding, and I knew that headaches and general malaise would only be the beginning if we didn’t get water soon.
“I’m sorry we lost the salt boxes,” Arwa said quietly. “Prince Maram threw them in a fire pit when the demon told him they were piskey-made.”
“I think he hates everything that is beautiful just because it’s not his,” Tariq said. “It must be a lonely way to live.”
“I don’t pity him for it,” Saoud said. “I pity everyone who has to live under his boot.”
“Soon that will be all of Kharuf as well,” I said.
“With luck,” Saoud said darkly, “we will still be alive to see it.”