Musa smiled broadly, his features smoothing in understanding. “You’re among friends here, my star. I can assure you of precious little in this world, but in this, I can rest my life: here, you are safe.”
“Forgive me, Musa-effendi,” she said, though her fingers did not move from her side. “But there are times I forget what being safe feels like.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “There is nothing to forgive.”
Shahrzad’s gaze flicked back to his silent sentries. “I hope I have not offended anyone. Or caused any undue trouble by coming here tonight.”
The girl’s head of spiraling curls tilted in Shahrzad’s direction, her eyes wide. Inquisitive. The boy yawned, his stick-straight hair mussed on one side, as though he’d just risen from a nap.
“You have caused no trouble. Parissa and Masrur are on guard duty this evening. As usual, Mas would rather be asleep, but Parissa’s curiosity has won out over all else. She is quite fascinated, as she’s heard a great deal about you.” Musa laughed, and it crinkled the dark skin around his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder at the boy and girl in question.
“I apologize for visiting in the middle of the night.” Shahrzad offered them a wary grin as she started up the steps, her hand finally falling from her dagger. Parissa held her tapers high, illuminating the path for Shahrzad, while Mas remained as drowsy as ever.
“We suspected you were on your way.” Musa’s smile turned knowing. “The stars told Parissa to expect a visitor late this evening, and she relayed the message to me earlier.”
Startled by this news, Shahrzad almost missed a step. “The stars?” Her eyes shot to the doe-eyed girl hovering on her left.
She can read the stars.
Shahrzad had heard of those who could do such a thing. But she’d never had occasion to meet someone with this rare ability.
Parissa was no longer looking at her. She was studying the carpet lashed to Shahrzad’s back, with a troublingly covetous gaze.
One that gave Shahrzad decided pause.
“Why don’t you join us inside for some tea, and I will answer all of your questions,” Musa said, his voice quiet and soothing, like a brook weaving between uneven stones.
Shahrzad tarried a beat, her foot coming to rest on the final step. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for tea. I must return before dawn breaks.”
Before my absence is discovered.
She swallowed, hoping to convey her need for discretion in nothing but a glance.
“I see.” The sharply attuned magus nodded, though his eyes narrowed in question. “Is there something—”
“I need your help, Musa-effendi.” She met him atop the staircase, squaring her shoulders without concern for pride or propriety. “For my father . . . and for Khalid.”
Unseemly though it was to begin with demands, Shahrzad knew it could not be helped. She did not have time for anything more than complete candor.
Neither did those she loved.
Thankfully, Musa did not press further. He took her hand without the slightest pause. “What is it you need, my star?”
At Shahrzad’s wordless behest, Musa relieved Parissa and Masrur of their posts and sent them to sleep. Mas gave her a grateful look, though Parissa appeared rather miffed. She eyed the magic carpet a final time before leaving, a trail of wax dribbling in her wake.
Musa listened to Shahrzad’s story while sitting on the stone steps of the Fire Temple, his face stark. Only twice did his expression soften. Once when Shahrzad mentioned her father’s book. Then again when he heard her speak of Khalid. The moment Shahrzad confessed how much she’d come to care for Leila’s son—the son who’d watched his beloved mother die at the hands of a cruel father—Shahrzad suspected she had much more than an ally in the otherworldly magus.
After Shahrzad finished her tale, Musa paused to ruminate on the dancing flames at the top of the marble column nearby.
“Did you know these things would come to pass?” Shahrzad asked when she could stomach the silence no longer. “Did Parissa read the stars and reveal my future?”
He shook his head, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. “That is not the way of it. Your future is not set in stone, my dearest star. A coin turns on itself a number of times before it lands.”
Shahrzad exhaled protractedly. “How I wish I believed that were true, Musa-effendi. But recent events have proven it is not. Khalid’s future appears to be set in stone. And with it, mine.”
Musa leaned forward, his elbows settling upon his knees. “So you’ve come here in hopes I might break this fearful curse?”
“Is it possible?” she whispered, gripping the fabric of her trowsers tightly.
“Alas”—he gazed at her sadly—“magic in our world can be a mysterious gift. One not so easily controlled, and not without great cost. I have no notion of the magic that was used to enact this evil, and even if I did, there are not many powerful enough to fend off a curse. The most I could do is offer some kind of talisman to ward away Khalid’s sleeplessness for a short time. But I am not powerful enough to counteract a curse, dearest one. The only way I know to break a curse is to fulfill it.”