The guard looked at Zahrah, who shook her head, and then to me. I nodded, and he took me to the foul and hastily dug pit that the prince’s men were using for their privy. When we returned, he dismissed the guards for their dinner and shoved me into the tent. He didn’t close the flap behind me, and we were grateful for the air. He sat down, a naked sword across his knees, so that he was half facing us, and half facing the camp. Then he unwrapped his kafiyyah, and I saw why he had disguised his voice.
“Father?” Saoud gasped, for here indeed sat the man who had taught us to fight with staves and survive in the forest. “What are you doing here?”
“I might ask the same of you, my son,” he said. “I left you all in safety.”
I thought of a thousand things at the same time. I had missed him so much when my mother sent him away, and I knew that my feelings paled beside Saoud’s. I wished he had stayed with us at the crossroad camp. I wished we had met him before now, when we might have been saved. Now, though we could not all be saved, maybe some of us could be. Maybe Arwa and Tariq and Saoud.
“My mother sent us to the Maker King’s court,” I said. “But we didn’t want to go, so we took our chances in Kharuf.”
“I imagine it is quite a tale,” he said, looking at Zahrah. “Except now it is quite a mess.”
“Father,” Saoud said. “We did our best.”
“I know you did, Saoud,” he said. “And there is something I must tell you. I ask you only to remember where you are—and that we will all be in great danger if you make a lot of noise.”
We all nodded, and he turned to look at us. His eyes were different, I noticed. That was why I hadn’t recognized him in the tent, when he’d obscured his voice. His face was the same, as was his speech now that he wasn’t muffling it, but his eyes were strange.
“Saoud, I swear to you that I am your father still,” he said. “But there is another that I share this body with, and he is the one who might be able to save us.”
“I don’t understand,” Saoud said. “What do you mean?”
“When the desert king was made good, the Storyteller Queen broke the demon out of him,” Saoud’s father said. “The demon was sent to the iron mountains with all of its kin, but it was made good too, by the power of the Storyteller Queen’s words.”
“No,” said Saoud. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true,” he said. “I met the demon in the mountains several years ago. It knew that there was mischief afoot between Kharuf and Qamih, that one of its own kin would bring us trouble, and it begged my help. It swore it would not risk me unnecessarily, and it swore it would do its best to protect you, and so I accepted its offer.”
“That’s when you started to teach us to fight,” Tariq said. “It was the demon.”
“Yes,” he said. “I wanted you to be ready, though I never imagined you would need to be ready for this. And the demon kept its word. Look at my eyes and remember how I used to be. That is because the demon rested and let me be unremarkable for as long as it could. But now we need it, and so I have given it permission to take more of my mind for its own.”
Saoud turned away and looked into the dark corner of the tent. I couldn’t imagine what he felt. The father he thought had left him behind had been in truth another creature altogether, and now he must have been second-guessing every conversation they’d had. I was past anger and confusion. Thanks to the demon I had faced today, I was numb to everything except the pain in my hand, and the cold determination to save Zahrah if I could…and the others if I could not.
“What can we do?” said Zahrah. She believed him, because she could see the truth with her gift. “Can you take me so that the other demon can’t?”
“No,” he said. “She has made you so that only she can have you. I am sorry. I would if I could.”
“Then what?” I said. “What can we do?”
“I cannot face the demon queen alone,” he said. “She has fed on the Maker Kings for years, and I have had only what was willingly given to me. She would crush me before my fighting her did any good.”
I remembered the demon’s stare and did not doubt him. I saw Arwa shudder and knew she had felt it too.
“But I can take care of the prince,” he said.
“What happens to my father if you do?” Saoud asked. “Maram is rumored to be a good fighter, and I know that you are better than he is, but he has an army.”
Saoud’s father made no answer, and Saoud looked away.
“How does that help us?” Arwa said. “If the prince dies, his men may fall into disarray, but there is still the demon, and we’ll have to face it without you.”
“The piskeys know we’re here,” Tariq said. “Or at least that we were headed in this direction. If they are watching, they might come to our aid.”
“It’s their task to do so,” Saoud’s father, or the demon in him, said. “And after I fight the Maker King’s son, the demon will have to reveal itself openly to pursue you. That will certainly get their attention.”
“So we run,” I said. “And we hope.”
I locked eyes with Saoud.
“It’ll have to be fast,” he said. “We’ll have to go without recovering our gear.”