Only a narrowing of her eyes indicated the vizier’s fury.
A real smile crossed my face at her expression, but I turned it on the sultan instead. “That’s very generous, Iram. I’d be delighted.”
I walked alongside the sultan, although he kept a respectful distance between the two of us. He had shown me the grand library first, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether that was the vizier’s doing. After all, she had known about my every request in Astaran.
How much does Iram know about me already?
We roamed the palace corridors, in and out of throne rooms, studies, and prayer rooms. I learned that the sultan’s chambers overlooked the city, flooded with light from huge windows, while the servants inhabited the ones backing against the mountain. Those, he didn’t show me.
Perhaps that’s where the lamps are hidden.
From a room with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, Iram pointed out and named peaks in the Ossur Mountains to the south, smiling as he indicated which ones he had climbed himself. He also named places in the city of Jafaryn at the foot of the palace, although in the rough Phoenitian tongue, I struggled to repeat them.
I nodded politely anyway. Following him from room to room, I tried hard to remember the layout in case I needed to find my way around later. The décor throughout the rest of the palace was much the same as I had seen already, and although fascinating, it was the sultan himself who held my attention.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye, my gaze frequently straying to the mountain tattoo on his cheek. He was quieter than I’d expected based on his actions in Kisrabah. More…muted. I had to keep reminding myself he was more than he seemed. That this was the man responsible for the raids on Yadina, for the assassin who had come for me, for the army we had fought in Hidu.
The man who crashed my wedding and stole me away.
He cleared his throat, making me jump. “Now, this is an area I think you’ll find most interesting…” He pushed open another engraved silver door. “This is the palace gallery.”
A long, thin room stretched out before us, lined with statues of humans, all bearing an uncanny resemblance to Iram.
“My ancestors,” he confirmed. “I want to introduce you to one of them…” His pace quickened, until he halted in front of one, an unreadable expression on his face.
I stopped beside him and studied the marble statue. The figure’s expression was earnest, his chin held high.
“This is my great-grandfather, Sultan Zahid the Dreamer, the second of his name, friend of the Order of Smoke, conqueror of Mount Adsurra.”
“Sounds impressive,” I muttered, catching myself before I rolled my eyes. “Do you have such a title?” I added politely, trying to make it sound as if I were interested.
He studied me. “I am called Iram the Generous, first of my name.” He paused, then continued slowly, “chosen of the Order of Smoke, and liberator of Phoenitia. The Sultan who will Bring Down the Mountains.”
The sultan who will what now?
I stared at him, a thousand and one questions on the tip of my tongue.
“I intended to explain,” he said finally, shrugging with a small smile. “Your question just made things easier.”
His gaze returned to the statue. “You probably know of Sultan Zahid’s father, Sultan Ozul. He is the man considered to be Astaran’s greatest enemy in history.” His eyes flicked back to me for a moment. “Hepzibah tells me you came to know much of our two kingdoms’ shared history once you joined the Astarian kingdom…”
I pursed my lips. I didn’t know that I would call being at war a shared history, but I gave a slight nod.
“Sultan Ozul fought Kassim’s ancestor, Sultan Munir, for control of the spirits, before they were hidden in the Cave of Wonders and we were forced to retreat beyond the mountains…” He turned to me, his expression caught between torture and excitement. “You have to understand, Zadie. Because of something as simple as geography, the treatment of my people over the centuries…” He shook his head. “The Ossur Mountains have long been a barrier between us and the rest of the twelve kingdoms. While the rest of you band together and form alliances, we are left to rot. And Astaran…” A shadow crossed his face. “Astaran has always had an unnatural advantage. A royal family should not know sorcery. There is a natural balance of power that exists between a royal family and their sorcerers.”
“Astaran’s rulers are no longer sorcerers,” I defended instinctively. “Magical blood might still run in their line, but they don’t use it.” I lifted my chin. “They don’t need to. Their people respect them without being forced to.”
“My people aren’t forced to respect me,” Iram snapped. He stopped and raked a hand through his hair. “Sorry.”
I frowned. Why is he apologizing?
He reached a hand out to the statue before us. “Sultan Zahid… When we were forced back above the mountains, he was still a child. His father, Ozul, was adamant he learn sorcery, like the rulers of Astaran…except he could not. Sorcery doesn’t run in our blood like it does in theirs. But he did uncover a prophecy that the child of his children’s children would bring down the mountains and free the people of Phoenitia from their mountainous prison. This Chosen One would be the salvation of Phoenita, bending the spirits to his will.” He moved his hand to the mountain tattoo on his cheek before fixing me with a firm gaze. “And I mean to do just that, Zadie.”
I took a step back at the wild look in his eyes.
He followed. “Did you know that just over a hundred years ago, a plague swept through Phoenitia? Thousands died. In Astaran, they grow night-blooming star jasmine, which is used in the antidote. My people requested aid. Astaran ignored us.”
I swallowed and stepped back again. Safiyya had shown me the star jasmine growing in the gardens when I’d first come to Kisrabah. But I had never heard of this plague. “Kassim wouldn’t–”
“Over cold winters, the azhdaha – winged serpents – travel down from their homes in the mountains, but instead of deer, they dine on my people. Do such things matter to the kingdoms beneath the mountains? Have you ever even heard of the azhdaha? Of the huge beasts that spew fire from their mouths?”
My mouth dried. I had not.
“Long before Sultan Ozul ever tried to use the spirits to bolster our armies, we tried to make peace with the other kingdoms. To establish trade routes across the mountains, which would keep our people from starving. Our offers were rejected. We were told those paths were too dangerous.” He stopped, his hand drifting to his chin. “Even more recently, Phoenitia was the only kingdom not to receive an invitation to the royal wedding between Sultan Kassim of Astaran and Princess Scheherazade of Khiridesh.”
A flush spread over my cheeks. “Your armies have been attacking the hill towns. You sent them after us in Hidu. You sent an assassin after me.”
“We punish the hill towns who refuse us aid against the azhdaha. My men came to retrieve the treasure Kassim’s ancestors stole from us. And the assassin… That was not my doing.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“Zadie,” the sultan urged, taking a step closer, “Hezpibah tells me you are…unconventional. That you have tried to encourage the Sultan of Astaran to be more enlightened. I think you might understand what I’m trying to do.” His eyes glittered, a faint flush warming his pale skin. “If I can use the spirits to bring down the mountains, we can unite the twelve kingdoms, establish a better rule. I’ve told you I’m known for my generosity. I could bring that to all the kingdoms.”
I bit my lip. It was clear the sultan truly believed what he was telling me, but why? Why tell any of this to me?
“It’s time for the twelve kingdoms to be brought together. The mountains must fall.”
Using spirits to bring down the mountains was impossible. Even with all the ones trapped in the lamps he had stolen from Astaran, spirits were…tricky. I’d been raised to be wary of their deceptions by my mother. And I’d experienced it firs
t-hand with Tarak, as well as all the other spirits I had encountered. I doubted the lamp spirits would be any more willing to help Iram.
“That’s why I need you, Zadie.” My head jerked up. “Our wishes so far have been…misinterpreted. I have the sorcerers at the Order of Smoke attempting to use the spirits, but they have suffered several fatalities as a result of loopholes the spirits have found. But somehow, you got one of the most powerful spirits from their realm to obey you...”
Iram looked at me fervently. “Zadie, I need your help to control the spirits in the lamps.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I put a gloved hand to the silver spoon next to my bowl and took a small mouthful of the sweetened, spiced milk.
At the sultan’s request, I’d agreed to join him for dinner. He hadn’t mentioned the lamps or the spirits again, but that didn’t make me feel any better. If I agreed to help him, and told him what I knew about Tarak and our relationship, I might secure my chance of getting out of here. But now that I knew what Iram intended to use the spirits for, I didn’t know if my own desire to escape was important anymore…
To my embarrassment, no one else had joined us at dinner. We sat at either end of a long, ornate table of pale wood, gleaming silver candlesticks and delicate white roses almost completely obscuring the sultan from my view. Perhaps because of the distance between us, he had made little effort to engage me in conversation, beyond the occasional enquiry regarding whether I liked the food. Instead, he was absorbed in a book, and I was left to my thoughts. Perhaps he rarely ate with others. I had never been to such a silent dinner before.
I took another spoonful of the milk pudding, finding softened dates at the bottom of the bowl. They tasted sickly sweet on my tongue, but after a day refusing to eat, I was famished.
Licking the last drops from my spoon, I set it in my bowl, and a servant immediately appeared at my side. He spoke in Phoenitian, and my cheeks heated in embarrassment as I stared blankly back at him.
“He wants to know whether you have finished or if you would like more.” Iram’s voice drifted down the table.
“Uh… I’m finished. Thank you.”
The sultan said something in Phoenitian, and the servant cleared my plate.
“Did you enjoy your food, Zadie? I asked the kitchen to prepare some of our traditional delicacies for you to try.”
I paused. The food had been sumptuous – a meat I’d never tried before, which Iram had told me was called venison, the meat of the mountain deer, stewed in sweet berries and served with bitter, green leaves, thin slices of pale cheese, fruit bursting with juice, and piles of dark brown flatbreads. But I missed the food of my home, the light, fragrant dishes we ate in the south. Huge fires crackled around the dining room, but it was a different kind of heat from the desert.
The sultan frowned. “You didn’t enjoy it?”
“It was delicious.” I reached for a goblet of rich, red wine and took a large mouthful as guilt stabbed in my chest.
I’m eating with Kassim’s greatest enemy.
“I’m pleased to hear it...”
I waited, hearing unfinished words, dreading that the sultan would ask me again about how to control the spirits.
“Perhaps you might honor me with a dance, princess? Having shown you our finest rooms in the palace and the rarest foods we have to offer, I would like to share some of our kingdom’s music with you.”
I wet my lips. If I wanted to figure out where the spirits were hidden, I could hardly just return to my room.
“I’d like that,” I lied, my stomach clenching.
The sultan smiled and got to his feet. I remained sitting stiffly in my chair as he closed the distance between us and extended a hand. I stared at it for a moment, comparing his pale, smooth fingers to my memories of Kassim’s dark, calloused palms. I allowed him to help me to my feet.
When I had arrived in Kisrabah, I learned it was Astarian tradition for a new bride-to-be to dance with the sultan on her arrival at the palace, and it felt uncomfortably similar to preparing to dance with Iram now. My fingers tingled under the unfamiliar feel of his hand as he led me through to the adjoining room. My heart fluttered at the thought of joining him for a dance. I knew Kassim would hate the thought of me in Iram’s arms.
In spite of the sinking feeling in my chest, I gasped at the ballroom, a room the sultan hadn’t shown me yet. In here, the statues were all cut glass. Thousands of candles lined every surface, filling the room with light despite the dark marble floors and pillars, the flames reflected a thousand and one times over. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling, where huge chandeliers sparkled beneath a vast, domed mirror.
Iram smiled proudly as I craned my neck to take in every corner. “This is one of the finest rooms in the palace.”
It felt wrong to be the only two in here, for the room not to be filled with guests. “It’s dazzling,” I said truthfully.
It seemed I was wrong about us being alone, though, because a halting, raw music slowly stirred to life at our arrival, a cluster of half-concealed musicians in the corner playing string instruments and filling the vast space with sound. The sultan shifted to stand beside me, his arm slipping around my waist. His scent was sharp, like anise and winter berries.
“We’ll take this slowly,” he promised. “In this dance, couples stand side by side, circling the floor. The footwork might seem complicated, but if you get lost, just walk beside me and don’t worry about matching my steps.”
The skin on my side tightened at the press of Iram’s fingers, even through my thick dress. Knowing he flattered me only because he wanted my help controlling the spirits didn’t make me feel any less uncomfortable. His scent washed over me, and I found myself sick with longing for Kassim to be standing beside me instead.
But as the music grew louder, I had no choice but to fall into step.
True to his word, we moved slowly. I concentrated on watching the sultan’s silver-buckled boots, following his slow steps forward, to the side, and back again, gradually picking up the pattern that moved us around the room. As long as I stared at his feet and ignored our reflections, I could pretend I was alone.
“You learn quickly,” he murmured.
I flinched away from him as his breath moved my hair. “Only because you set such a slow pace. I assure you, I’m no dancer.”
The sultan’s light laugh sounded in my ear. “In any case, I can see it’s going to be my pleasure getting to know you better while I await your answer to my plea, Zadie.”
I remained silent. Should I offer to help him in the hope he would take me to the spirits? I could tell him about the deal I made with Tarak. But once he got what he needed to know, would all this talk of generosity be over?
We moved around the beautiful glass room. Suddenly, Iram swung me around, dropping me almost to the floor before catching me in one arm. My heart thundered as I looked up at his serious gray eyes.
“I’m prepared to wait for your help, Zadie,” he said softly. “I just can’t wait too long.”
My mouth set into a thin line. For now, at least, we were at a stalemate. I had information Iram wanted about controlling the spirits, and he had information about where they were. I needed more time to think.
My eyes flicked to the mirrored ceiling above the sultan’s head. Just for a moment, I could’ve sworn I’d seen a familiar haze of violet smoke.
My heart skipped a beat.
Is it possible..? I drew in a slow breath, hardly daring to believe what I’d seen.
Could Tarak be bound to the mirror?
If the Phoenites had somehow bound Tarak to an object when Lalana had freed him… Maybe he wasn’t acting of his own free will. A giddy feeling washed over me. Maybe he hadn’t betrayed us after all.
I dragged my eyes back to the sultan’s, trying not to let the dizzy hope show on my face. “Please, Iram. Give me some time to think about this.”
My eyes flicked back to the mirrored ceiling once more. If Tarak w
asn’t working willingly with the enemy, it would change everything…
My heart lifted and I pressed my lips together, trying to contain the excitement brimming in my chest.
I can’t jump to conclusions. I couldn’t be sure I’d seen anything. It might just have been my imagination.
Iram pulled me swiftly to my feet, stepping back and giving a little bow as the last note of the music echoed in the room. He offered me a smile. “I told you. I don’t expect you to give me an answer immediately, princess. I understand I’m asking a lot from you. That it might take time for you to come to understand that everything you’ve been told about Phoenitia is wrong.”
He’s Astaran’s enemy. Every word that comes from his lips is a lie.
“Thank you for indulging me with that dance, Zadie. I look forward to showing you more of the finest things Phoenitia has to offer tomorrow.”
Still holding me delicately by the hand, Iram led me back to the door to the dining room, the glittering glass of each carved statue flashing as we passed them. “I know your last, ah, visit to our balcony gardens ended badly, but I would like to show them to you under different circumstances.”
I’d stopped listening, but Iram barely seemed to notice as he continued talking.
As we stepped into the dining room, I tried to resist the urge to twist back around and look for any sign of Tarak, but I couldn’t help it. I had to see if the djinni really was trapped in there.
“Wait. Please. I just want to take another moment to look at this stunning room…” I pulled away from Iram and turned back to the doorway of the ballroom.
Giving an exaggerated sigh, I leaned my head against the doorframe so the sultan couldn’t see exactly where I was looking, trying to make it seem as if I just couldn’t bear to look away from the ballroom. My gaze shot up to the domed mirror on the ceiling, searching for any trace of the purple smoke I thought I’d seen.
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