If Irsa was old enough to help her—old enough to while away the hours with Rahim al-Din Walad—then she was old enough to know why Shahrzad needed their father’s book.
“You’re right. No matter how much I wish to deny it, you’re no longer a child. It’s time I told you the truth.” Shahrzad breathed deep and began.
This time, she left nothing out. In a voice so soft it could barely be heard, Shahrzad told her sister the story of the curse. Of everything the boy she loved had been forced to do to protect his people. Of all they now had to do to end a reign of terror perpetrated by a grief-stricken madman.
Irsa listened in wide-eyed shock.
When it came time to hear of the daunting task before them, Irsa leaned closer and cut her eyes in concentration.
“So I must take the book from Baba while he sleeps, then collect Khalid from Rey so that he may destroy the book and end the curse, along with this needless war,” Shahrzad finished, her shoulders falling forward from the burden of all she’d divulged.
Irsa remained silent for a time. “This is a tremendous risk. Especially with so many unfriendly eyes upon you,” she finally said. “And things might progress more smoothly if you had help. Why don’t you let me take the book from Baba while you travel to Rey?”
“No.” Shahrzad shook her head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“No,” Irsa insisted. “It isn’t. It makes sense for me to do it. He won’t suspect me of having any interest in the book. Let me give him the sleeping draught in his evening tea. I’ll wait for him to fall asleep, then meet you in the desert.”
“I couldn’t bear it if something were to happen to you.”
“What could happen to me?” Irsa frowned. “It’s not as though I’m fighting at the vanguard. I’m only transporting a book,” she said with unassuming brevity. “Why don’t we meet by the well, east of the encampment? It’s a short ride from here. I’ll borrow Aisha’s horse, then bring both the book and the key there, and in doing so save you the trouble and the time. You can leave for Rey once I’ve given Baba his tea.” Her voice had grown more fervent as she spoke, her words grounded in their surety.
Shahrzad chewed the inside of her cheek, still unwilling to relent, but warming to the idea.
It does make sense. And it would be nice to work together, for a change.
“Don’t worry, Shazi.” Irsa grinned good-naturedly. “I am merely waiting for Baba to fall asleep, then delivering a book to you. There’s no danger in this.”
Despite her wiser inclinations, Shahrzad smiled back.
Perhaps her sister was right.
They were taking charge of their destinies. Refusing to allow fate to dictate their futures. Perhaps the reason Shahrzad had been struggling so much of late was because she’d been fighting against a raging current. Perhaps she should swim alongside it, for a change.
“All right,” Shahrzad agreed. “Let’s do it.”
“Together.” Irsa smiled wider.
Shahrzad nodded. “Together.”
Tariq wasn’t sure what could have possessed him to follow Irsa al-Khayzuran tonight.
Of all the things he should have been doing, he should not have been secretly following Irsa. He should have been planning their next raid. Or at least forming the beginnings of a strategy with his uncle, despite his growing unease as to Reza bin-Latief’s objective.
Instead here he was with Rahim, trudging through the desert on horseback . . .
Trying to keep silent.
Indeed, they were fortunate Irsa was such a poor sneak. As well as a decidedly poor lookout. For any soldier worth his salt would have noticed them trailing at a distance.
Would have forgone this ridiculousness long ago.
But Tariq had been worried about Shahrzad for some time. These past few days, he’d tried to keep tabs on her whereabouts. Earlier this evening, Tariq had seen her steal into the desert, carrying a rolled bundle. Before he’d been able to break away from his soldiers and follow her, Shahrzad had disappeared without a trace.
Now Tariq was forced to do the next best thing and follow Irsa. For if anyone knew what Shahrzad was up to with this strange disappearance, it would be her younger sister.
Tariq was more than willing to resort to subterfuge if it meant learning the explanation behind Shahrzad’s recent behavior. More than willing to steal into the desert, in pursuit of a hooded figure beneath a moonlit sky.
And Rahim?
It was becoming abundantly clear Rahim would follow Irsa al-Khayzuran anywhere.
All Irsa had in her possession was a tiny parcel wrapped in a length of dark linen, pressed against her chest. She was not dressed for traveling. The light shahmina about her shoulders would not protect her from much.
Tariq found this strange because Irsa al-Khayzuran was usually quite sensible. Usually not a cause for concern. She never had been. Was not the type ever to be.
She was predictable. Pleasant. Agreeable.
Everything Shahrzad was not.
All the same, Tariq kept his recurve bow at the ready.