At last, when the dust settled, the Queen and the Jinni stood on the mountaintop and looked down on the battlefield and the bodies spread like leaves across the desert. The Queen fell to her knees, wearied and wounded, and her sword dropped from her hand. Before her, the doorway to Ambadya burned with fires of every color.
“All I wanted,” said the Queen, “was peace between our peoples. But I see now that this is not possible, for my people are ruled by a dreamer, and the jinn are ruled by a monster. My only consolation is that thou art by my side, my Jinni. I would die in the company of a friend, and give thee my final breath. For I have one wish remaining, and it is for thy freedom, yea, even at the cost of mine own life.”
At this the Jinni shook her head, replying, “Nay, my queen. The time for wishing is passed. For here is the Shaitan, Lord of all Jinn and King of Ambadya.”
And even as she spoke, the fires in the doorway rose higher, and through them stepped Nardukha the Shaitan, terrible to behold.
“O impudent woman,” said the Shaitan, looking down at the Queen. “Wouldst thou dare make the Forbidden Wish?”
“I would,” she replied. “For I fear thee not.”
“Then thou art a fool.”
As the Queen’s heart turned to ashes, realizing her doom was upon her, the Shaitan turned to the Jinni and said, “Dost thou recall the first rule of thy kinsmen, Jinni?”
And the Jinni replied, “Love no human.”
“And hast thou kept this commandment?”
“Lord, I have.” And up she rose, as the Queen cried out in dismay.
“Are not we like sisters?” asked the Queen. “Of one heart and one spirit?”
And the Jinni replied, “Nay, for I am a creature of Ambadya, and thus is my nature deceitful and treacherous. My Lord has come at last, and I would do all that he commands.”
The Shaitan, looking on with approval, said to the Jinni, “This human girl is proud and foolish, thinking she could rule both men and jinn. I am well pleased with thee, my servant, who hast brought her to me. Slay the queen and prove thy loyalty to thy king.”
And the Jinni grinned, and in her eyes rose a fire. “With pleasure, my Lord.”
Then, with a wicked laugh, she struck down the good and noble Queen, the mightiest and wisest of all the Amulen monarchs, whose only mistake was that she had dared to love a Jinni.
—From the Song of the Fall of Roshana,
Last Queen of Neruby
by Parys zai Moura,
Watchmaiden and Scribe to Queen Roshana
Chapter Twenty-Seven
HAND IN HAND, Aladdin and I stand before the Shaitan. Beneath Nardukha’s primal gaze, all I want to do is cower and flee, but I focus instead on Aladdin’s pulse in my palm.
“Nardukha.” I lift my chin, meeting his black eyes.
The Shaitan is old, older even than the race of men. He was one of the first creatures ever formed by the gods, long ago when Ambadya was lush and beautiful. Looking in his gaze now, I find nothing remotely human. No emotion, no pity. He is more a force of nature than a living being, like a walking volcano. Rarely does he set foot in this world at all—and never do his visits result in anything other than catastrophe.
He looks down slowly, his eyes shifting from me to Aladdin. Then, with a sound like thunder, a black pillar of smoke envelops him. When it falls away, Nardukha stands not much taller than us, vaguely human in form. His skin is black and charred, cracking at the joints to reveal lava-red muscle beneath. His robes are smoke and silk, and instead of hair he has two curling horns protruding from his elongated skull.
He is a walking nightmare.
“The-Girl-Who-Gives-the-Stars-Away,” he murmurs. His voice is soft and beautiful, clear as a crystal and sweet as honey. I guard myself against the dangerous allure in that voice. “Curl-of-the-Tiger’s-Tail. What have you done?”
“I freed Zhian,” I say, drawing his attention back to me. “I kept my part of the deal. But you were never going to grant me freedom, were you? It was all a lie.”
“You were to be freed from your lamp, just like he promised,” Zhian cuts in, rising to face us. Fury rages in his eyes.
“And then what?” I snap, my gaze still locked on Nardukha’s. “Be killed?”
“Be joined to me,” says Zhian. “As you were always meant to be.”
I know what he means, the ceremony the jinn perform like some kind of perverted wedding. I would have been bound to Zhian in every way, unable to disobey his commands. It is similar to the bond Nardukha holds over all jinn, and the thought of being made slave to Zhian in this way is repulsive. Once more, another of Nardukha’s “deals” has turned out to be nothing but a trick. Last time, Ghedda paid the price of my foolish hopes. Now it will be Aladdin who suffers.
“I would rather be bound to my lamp than be bound to you,” I snarl.
Zhian opens his mouth to reply but falls silent at a look from the Shaitan. Nardukha circles me and Aladdin, his train of smoke coiling around us.
“My beautiful jinni,” he murmurs. His voice is wind on hot coals, sparking and sighing. “More powerful than any other, made of fire and water, of earth and air. Why have you defied me?”