Or I’d only wanted to because I had dreamed of becoming sultanah, but that had changed. Now my desires were just as tied to the man as the title.
A smile flickered across her tired face. “Is my little sister blushing?” she teased.
At those words, my cheeks grew hotter.
Lalana blinked, her expression turning surprised.
“I didn’t expect it,” I said, my cheeks still flaming. “I didn’t… He’s not what I expected.”
Lalana squeezed my hand. “I told you you’d know when it happened.”
“I don’t even know when it happened,” I continued in a rush. “At first he was so… stubborn. He had all these ideas about traditions and how to rule a kingdom, and no interest in hearing what anyone else thought on the matter.”
“Sounds familiar,” Lalana said drily.
I shot a look at her, checking to make sure I wasn’t upsetting her further, but the tears had dried in my sister’s eyes and she was surveying me with interest now.
“He made me journey here in a palanquin,” I said mulishly. “He wouldn’t even let me write a letter. Or ride a horse.”
“Imagine!” Lalana dug her elbow affectionately into my side.
“He took some persuading, but after I stopped a band of thieves from ransacking the palace treasury, sourced an ancient map, helped him find a lost treasure, and saved his sister’s suitors, he eventually came around to my way of thinking…”
I stopped, realizing there was a big part of the story I hadn’t mentioned yet. I glanced down, to the amethyst ring sparkling on my finger. It hadn’t just been me who’d done all those things. I had Tarak to thank for a lot…
Lalana frowned as she caught sight of the guarded expression on my face. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
I peeled my arm from her shoulders and stood abruptly, walking forward to lean on the warm, stone wall around the edge of the roof terrace. The thick scent of bonfires and squeals of the crowd filled the air, the hot, excited city quite ignorant of the confessional between two princesses going on above them.
I drummed my fingers on the wall. Mother had always warned us never to make a deal with a spirit. And what had I done the moment I had met Tarak? My heart quickened as I recalled the words I’d read in Hidu, of how he’d betrayed his own kind… Learning about that wasn’t exactly going to persuade Lalana he could be trusted.
“Zadie?”
Still, the Tarak I’d grown to know seemed nothing like the djinni in the story. And Aliyah and Safiyya already knew about him anyway, so it wasn’t as if he were a total secret anymore.
Aside from anything else, after so long apart, I wanted to tell Lalana everything. After all that I had done for her, I could trust her to keep my secret, couldn’t I?
She joined me at the wall, shaking out her night-dark hair as she leaned back beside me. “Zadie… Whatever it is, you know you can tell me.”
“Look, it’s...” I hesitated. “Aliyah knows, but I haven’t told Kassim. Just trust me, okay?”
Lalana wrinkled her nose. “What–”
I rubbed the ring, and a thin pillar of purple smoke spiraled into the air before dissolving into the djinni, who appeared in his preferred male form. Only this time, he was dressed in the finery of a prince.
Keeping his violet eyes fixed on Lalana, Tarak swept a glittering silver cloak back behind his shoulders, revealing an embroidered shirt and waistcoat unbuttoned low enough to expose a triangle of bare, brown chest. A chest which, I noticed, had been carefully oiled.
I sneezed. Was it just me, or was the scent of frankincense stronger than usual?
“Tarak, that smell of frankincense… Is that your perfume?”
I’d always assumed it was the smoke…
The djinni ignored me as he bowed low to Lalana, his eyes never leaving hers. “Your sister told me you were beautiful to behold, but she never said you had a voice sweeter than a nightingale’s, skin more delicate than sand glittering in the sunlight, and eyes more dazzling than the first star that brightens the night skies.”
Lalana’s wide eyes grew even wider, pink tinging her cheeks so that she took on a pretty flush. She let out a surprised laugh and swiveled to look at me. “Zadie, is this your spirit?”
“Forgive me, princess!” Tarak straightened and moved instantly to Lalana’s side, taking hold of her hand. His expression reminded me of his falcon form, preparing to strike. “I should have introduced myself. Please, call me Tarak. All-powerful djinni, at your service.”
I tapped one foot on the floor, crossing my arms over my chest. “Tarak, Lalana would like some space, please. And aren’t you supposed to be at my service?”
Tarak shot me a reproachful look. “You are, of course, the master of the ring…for now.”
I glared back at him, then turned to my sister. “I put on Tarak’s ring by accident and we ended up making a deal.”
Lalana let out a gasp. “Oh, Zadie, a deal? Mother will kill you!”
“Mother doesn’t know,” I snapped, “and she’s not going to find out, is she?”
Lalana’s dark eyes turned liquid, filled with hurt, and I immediately felt guilty. Why am I snapping at her? Spirits, she just lost her husband…
“Sorry,” I said gruffly. “Anyway, the deal’s over. I helped Tarak find out why he was trapped in the ring in the first place.”
“It’s okay.” Her face softened. “Did he grant you any wishes in return?”
“Seven.” I glanced back down at the glittering amethyst jewel on my finger. “But I only have one left.”
Lalana drifted back over to the low couch, sinking daintily down onto the plush cushions. Tarak instantly joined her, pouring her another cup of tea.
“You aren’t what I expected of a spirit at all,” she said in wonder as his eyes crinkled genially.
I rolled my eyes at Tarak’s uncharacteristic politeness, joining Lalana on the couch and helping myself to the cup of tea Tarak had just poured. He shot me a filthy look and poured another for Lalana before shifting closer on her other side.
“Lalana, not that I’m not glad to see you, but why did you risk coming here?” I asked at last, glaring at Tarak as he shuffled closer still.
She sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to do, Zadie. I can’t go back home to Satra. Not after what I did. The only person left in the world I care about is you. And, well… You always know what to do.” She twisted the ends of her hair around her fingers. “If anyone can help me, you can.”
My heart swelled, even as my mind began anxiously turning over our options. She was right, of course. She couldn’t go back to Satra. Our parents had told everyone she was dead. But Lalana was so beautiful, how could we ever hope to keep attention away from her here in Kisrabah? Even if we did have the help of Aliyah and her thieves. And a djinni.
I glared at Tarak, who had taken Lalana’s hand again and was nodding understandingly.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Aliyah’s clipped tone made me jump, the thief queen materializing out of nowhere, as if she’d heard me thinking about her.
“Did you want to talk about the vizier?” I asked, suddenly remembering the reason I was supposed to be meeting Aliyah in the first place. “Have you found something?”
“No, I’ve not made much progress investigating her. My sources are still on it.” She paused, then shot me a wicked grin. “But I have had an amazing idea.”
“About what?” I asked suspiciously.
“You want a way for your sister to stay here, safe and unrecognized, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, luckily for us, she’s arrived at the perfect time for us to disguise her.” Aliyah extended an arm toward the city below us.
My brow furrowed. “The storytelling festival? How will that–”
“C’mon, Z.” Grabbing my arm, Aliyah urged me to my feet, then impatiently gestured for Lalana to do the same. “We’ve got work to do. And I know just the person to help us.”
&nbs
p; Chapter Three
In the marketplace, every head turned to stare at Lalana.
Although we were accompanied by a thief and a djinni, it was easy to imagine we were back in Satra, the two of us arm in arm, guards trailing at a respectful distance behind us.
And just like in Satra, next to Lalana, I became invisible once again.
Beside her, everything else fell into shadow. Even among the dazzling incendiary displays, the snake charmers, the musicians performing on street corners, my sister stood out. We’d dressed her in the dark, plain clothes of Aliyah’s thieves. But even the shapeless, shadowy clothes couldn’t hide her huge eyes, just as the sadness on her face couldn’t disguise the fullness of her mouth, her glowing, golden skin.
After so long feeling everyone’s eyes glued to me, the princess betrothed to their sultan, I had to admit, it stung a little.
But I was probably just exhausted. My conversation with Lalana had felt brief, but there had been so much to tell each other, and so much we still didn’t know about what the other had been doing all this time. Even just the fact that my sister was back beside me was overwhelming.
I squeezed her arm, reassuring myself she hadn’t disappeared again.
“Here,” Aliyah announced, stopping outside a tall building fronted with a huge door of pale, splintered wood.
I craned my neck back, looking doubtfully at the sign above the door. The Gilded Lily. Something about it reminded me uncomfortably of Mustafa’s shopfront.
Aliyah yanked on a bell hanging outside. It pealed loudly, causing a few eyes to turn in our direction before sticking on Lalana. I shot the thief queen an unhappy look.
“What?” she said blithely. “The proprietor of The Gilded Lily is the best costume designer in the city.”
I blinked. A costume designer? That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when Aliyah had suggested disguising my sister. What, were we going to dress her up as a camel and hope no one noticed?
“I’m sure the princess would look impeccable in anything,” Tarak commented loudly from behind us.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Clearly the djinni was no more immune to my sister’s beauty than anyone else. But his stream of compliments was getting old really, really quickly.
One more and he’s back in the ring.
“A costume?” Lalana turned to Aliyah. “What do we want with a costume?”
Before the thief queen could answer, the door swung open, a cloud of heavy perfume pouring out of the building. The smell of oud always reminded me of my mother, and my shoulders immediately tensed.
“Ali!” A tall, handsome woman with waves of dark hair and an immaculately made-up face spread her arms in greeting, wafting yet more of the strong perfume in our direction. “What a delight to see you. And you brought friends.” She turned to the rest of us, her eyes flicking over the group and coming to land, of course, on Lalana. “What a charming young woman…”
She moved closer, floating gracefully toward us. Up close, she was older than I’d first thought, her makeup cleverly distracting from the fine lines around her eyes, the creases at the side of her mouth.
Oblivious to me, she took Lalana’s chin in her hand, tilting her face up. I wrinkled my nose as another waft of perfume filled my nostrils.
“Really, such lovely features, and what perfect posture. Are you a dancer?”
Lalana flushed. “No.”
“She’s wonderful,” I said truthfully. “More graceful than any professional I’ve ever seen.”
“Really…” The woman bent closer, parting Lalana’s lips with her fingers and examining her teeth.
My sister hurried back in alarm, and I shot Aliyah a dark look.
“That’s a noble from Khiridesh you’re treating like a prize stallion, Yerusha,” the thief queen drawled. “So you haven’t got much of a chance of persuading her to join your troupe, I’m afraid.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Although, actually…”
“No,” I interjected quickly. “No actually. Let’s stick with Plan A, Ali.” Whatever Plan A is.
Yerusha just raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Pity.” She turned to look at the rest of us more thoughtfully. “So, what does a noble from Khiridesh want with my services?”
Aliyah gave a broad smile. “Perhaps we could discuss this inside…”
Yerusha stepped back and gestured for us to head indoors. Lalana dithered, so I grasped her hand and led her into the building.
Inside, a dim light filtered through the room from covered lamps, the air hazy with incense. I sneezed again. More oud. Huge, plush cushions on the floor surrounded low tables, and several slender, scantily clad girls, sitting around and smoking hookah, turned dark eyes in our direction.
“Through here,” Aliyah called as she brushed past, waggling her fingers in greeting to the other girls. Their expression relaxed, and they returned to their conversation, ignoring us once more.
Still clasping Lalana’s hand tightly in mine, I followed the thief queen through a door and into a large room off to the right.
As she’d promised, costumes filled the room. Billowing pants hung along one wall, skirts and dresses along another, and sheer scarves rippled in the draft from the open door. Jewelry dripped from stands on a table in the middle of the room, and on the farthest wall, a huge, dusty mirror reflected everything back at us.
“Told you this was the best place for us.” Aliyah dug an elbow into my side at my stunned silence.
I pursed my lips. “I still don’t even know what we’re doing here.”
“Ah!” Aliyah clapped her hands together as Yerusha and Tarak followed us in. “I should explain.” She turned to Lalana, pulling her forward. “Yerusha, this beautiful young thing is going to compete to be named the palace storyteller.”
My jaw dropped. What? I knew the storytelling festival ended with a competition to become Astaran’s new official storyteller, but why would Lalana want to compete?
Yerusha tilted her head to one side, surveying Lalana critically. “You think she’s talented enough?”
“She’s talented enough to do anything,” I snapped, in spite of myself.
“Such a pity she’s not interested in joining my troupe...”
“Come on, Yerusha,” Aliyah said cozily, shooting me a meaningful look. “Your dancers are the best in the city, but if our young friend here wins the competition, she’ll be given accommodation in the palace.”
My mood lifted as understanding dawned.
“First, we just need her to win the competition,” Aliyah said, giving me a wink. “And to do that, she needs to be dressed appropriately. I know no one will recognize her when you’re done with her.”
I stared at the thief queen. It was brilliant. Kassim had never actually met Lalana, no one in Astaran had.
Aliyah gave me a catlike smile before turning back to Yerusha. “So, what can you do with her? Cost is no issue. Is it, Z?”
I shook my head, still too stunned by Aliyah’s plan to respond.
“Excellent!” Yerusha began prowling around the shop, her arm darting out to select items off the rack, too fast for me to notice what she’d selected. “Now, the stories are all in celebration of the spirits, of course, so most people will dress in line with that theme. You know, animal costumes, shimmering, floating materials that suggest smoke and fire…” She snatched another item off the rack.
“So is it better that my sis– Uh, friend here, do the same, or should she–” I broke off as I spotted a familiar red outfit strung with bells hanging to one side.
Speechless with outrage, I moved closer, fingering the vibrant material in disbelief as I remembered the card game I had played against Bahar.
Aliyah looked over as the tiny bells chimed loudly, a wicked grin spreading over her face when she realized what I held in my hand.
“Ugh, Zadie. I’m not wearing that.” Lalana dragged me away from the dancer’s costume.
“Too right,” Tarak said, waggling his eyebrows a
t me. “You’d look like a common dancer.”
Gritting my teeth, I spun back to Aliyah. “What does this competition involve anyway?”
The thief queen settled cross-legged on one of the cushions. “Well, the main thing is that she has to be able to tell a good story, obviously. But the point is that it’s a festival of the arts. These Astarian sultans like to think of themselves as great patrons of the arts, you know.”
I nodded. I did know. Even when the princes courting Safiyya had come to the palace, they’d been required to show off some artistic talent.
“So you really need to demonstrate your talents in as many of the arts as possible. But that shouldn’t be a problem, right? I’ve heard your friend is incomparably accomplished…” Aliyah looked questioningly at Lalana, who blushed and nodded. “So, Z says you can dance. Can you sing?”
Lalana nodded.
“What about musical instruments? Do you play?”
“No problem,” I said confidently. “She’s very gifted on the lute.”
“Zadie…” Lalana’s voice sounded panicked. She shook her head at me.
I frowned. “What are you talking about? You play beautifully.”
“I did.” Color spread across my sister’s cheeks. “The thing is… Look.” Not meeting my eyes, she held up her left hand.
I gasped, pain searing across my chest, as Aliyah sat bolt upright on her pillow.
Every finger on Lalana’s hand was broken, the tips splaying out at odd angles.
How did I not notice that before?
I moved to her side, tears stinging my eyes. “What happened?”
There was a long pause. “I… It was an accident. It was crushed.”
Aliyah’s eyebrows shot up. “That is not what a crushed hand looks like, princess. Those fingers have been broken deliberately…one by one.”
There was an awkward silence. I tried to get Lalana to look at me, but she stared stubbornly down at the floor, moving her hand behind her back. Perhaps she just doesn’t want to talk about it in front of everyone…
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