As soon as he settled onto the carpet, Shahrzad coaxed it into the air without a word of warning.
A volley of expletives flew from Khalid’s mouth. They only became more foul as Shahrzad urged the carpet high above the city, in a twist of whistling wind. Laughing into the darkness, she spurred the magic carpet even faster, then rose to her knees. When Khalid tried to tug her back down—his eyes flashing—she sent a look of mocking scorn over one shoulder.
“Get down,” Khalid yelled over the wind, taking tight hold of her waist.
“Don’t be a bore!”
“You’ll fall.”
“No, I won’t.” She spread her arms wide.
“How do you know that?”
“I just do!”
“Get down,” he insisted, his jaw rigid. “Please!”
“Why?”
“Because you’re killing me, by degrees!”
Grumbling, Shahrzad eased back onto the carpet. Khalid pulled her into his chest, his breath fast against her neck.
A small part of her felt guilty.
The rest felt smug.
Serves him right. Perhaps the King of Kings won’t be so arrogant next time.
She grinned to herself. Khalid ceasing to be arrogant was just as unlikely as her ceasing to provoke him. It was simply too easy. And much too much fun.
“Are you finally starting to breathe in a normal fashion?” Shahrzad teased. “I must confess I find your behavior rather odd, considering you said only a child would be afraid to fly.”
“I wasn’t afraid.” Khalid wrapped a forearm of corded muscle around her.
She slanted a disbelieving look his way. “You just lied to me.”
“I wasn’t afraid,” he repeated. “I was terrified.”
When she laughed, Shahrzad was rewarded with one of his uncommonly effortless smiles. The kind that changed a face of shadows into one of light.
The kind that made her want to forget how small the magic carpet happened to be.
“You’re beautiful,” Shahrzad commented softly.
Khalid’s hand tightened around her waist. “Are you not stealing the words customarily reserved for a man?”
“You’re welcome to say other, less customary things.” Though her tone was airy, her pulse stuttered.
“Such as?”
“You’re a smart man. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“I already have.” The touch of Khalid’s lips trailing below her ear sent a swirl of desire through her.
It’s a shame we’re otherwise occupied at the moment.
Or else she would definitely act upon it.
They traveled over a stretch of desert near an expanse of mountains. Above them, a few lonely stars flickered, stitched across a dark fabric of night. Khalid soon grew accustomed to the rush of wind against his face, the tense set of his shoulders slackening. After a time, the air began to thicken with the scent of salt, and the sea glimmered along the horizon.
The carpet slowed as they neared the promontory before landing by the pool of water set against the cliff. Shahrzad secured the magic carpet to her back while Khalid unsheathed his shamshir, his movements like that of a prowling jungle cat.
Though she’d behaved in the same manner only a few nights ago, Shahrzad rolled her eyes. “That’s unnecessary. Not to mention insulting.”
“Forgive me for not feeling welcome wherever I go,” he muttered. “And for not taking any chances.”
With a shake of her head, Shahrzad reached for his free hand, threading her fingers through his.
“Shahrzad-jan?” Musa emerged from between the strange statues at the opposite side of the pool.
Again, Khalid did not miss a beat. Though he recognized the magus, he tugged Shahrzad closer and raised his shamshir.
Musa smiled at Khalid, his teeth like pearls set against ebony. “I did not think you would come.”
It took Khalid a moment to reply. “My wife can be very persuasive.” His sword remained vigilant.
The magus’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “It is good to see you. It has been so long.”
Khalid said nothing.
Musa strode closer. He appeared to be studying Khalid. Perhaps trying to see traces of the boy he’d known in the young man before him. “You look—”
“Like my father,” Khalid finished in a clipped tone. “Many have told me.”
“You do. But I see your mother in you. Most especially in your eyes.”
“You have no cause to flatter me. Lies do not become you.”
“I am not lying.” Musa rounded the pool. “Your eyes may be the same color as your father’s, but I can tell they see the world as Leila did. They see all. Your father”—he failed to forestall a grimace—“saw very little.”
Khalid’s eyes narrowed to slits. “My father saw enough.”
The meaning behind his rejoinder was evident.
A father who saw enough to destroy a small boy’s world.
“No.” Musa stopped before them, his colorful cloak swaying above the tan stone. “He saw what he wished to see. And he never gave anyone the chance to show him otherwise.”
There was obvious meaning to the magus’s words as well.
“I did not come here to be lectured by my mother’s tutor,” Khalid countered. “Nor did I come here to grant you the chance to win me over, Musa Zaragoza.”