Princess of Smoke (2020 Reissue)

by Helena Rookwood

  A muscle feathered along the vizier’s jawline, her breathing growing heavier as she weighed my words against what she had seen of me while in Astaran.

  I returned my gaze to Iram. “You can ask any person in Khiridesh or Astaran what I want most in the world, and they’ll tell you it’s to be sultanah. To have the power to make a difference.” I swallowed. “Based on our conversations, I think that’s what you want, too. To make a difference. Not just in Phoenitia, but across the twelve kingdoms. And that, Iram, is why I want to help you now.”

  The sultan’s serious face quirked into a cold smile. “Help me find this book, Zadie, and I’ll make you more than just Sultanah of Astaran.” His eyes glowed silver in the moonlight. “Rule by my side and you can have any kingdom you desire.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The palanquin swayed as we made our way out of the palace and into the city of Jafaryn, which spread like skirts around the foot of the palace. With their long, slender legs, the black-and-gray horses were very different to the fine horses we had in Khiridesh or Astaran. I wished we could be riding them instead of being stuck inside the palanquin.

  I gazed out of the window as we passed beneath a huge, black marble gate and into the city. The buildings were all black marble spires, similar enough to the palace that only the gate indicated where the palace ended and the city began.

  “I’m excited for you to see Jafaryn, Zadie.” Iram smiled, his eyes crinkling. “I think Phoenitia will surprise you further when you see more of it.”

  I forced myself to smile back at the sultan opposite me, although the promises I had made to Iram yesterday still tasted bitter in my mouth. It doesn’t matter whether he knows you love Kassim.

  And yet, somehow, it did.

  “This is the Jewelry Quarter,” he said as we passed between more buildings. “The wealthiest and most powerful men and women in the city live here. There are some fine shops, too.” His cheeks took on a little color. “If we have time later, perhaps you might like to take a look? I’d be glad to show you the Phoenitian fashions.”

  “That’s very generous,” I said noncommittally, leaning out of the window. As we drew farther away from the palace, the streets grew wider – huge, circular courtyards connected by winding roads – and black wood began to replace the marble, spires giving way to dusty, red roofs.

  “The wood is treated with a stain that protects it from the weather,” Iram explained. His face turned grim. “It would be preferable to have all our buildings made of stone when the azhdaha travel down in the winter, but we are making slow progress with the building program I’ve instructed.”

  “Building program?” I asked, my interest piqued in spite of myself.

  Iram gave a tight smile. “The azhdaha fire can’t touch stone. If we are to receive no help from the south, we must defend ourselves somehow. So each year, a new section of the city is rebuilt. My people are very resistant to change, they’ve built their homes with wood for hundreds of years, but it’s safer to build them from stone.”

  And safer still not to send them into a pointless war. But I said nothing as I smiled. I needed him to take me on this outing, so I could learn more about the Book of Names.

  “Your people should be grateful to you. It’s not every ruler who…” My voice trailed off as my gaze caught on a commotion in a courtyard. A woman’s scream split the air.

  I twisted frantically to the sultan. “What’s going on?”

  Iram’s face was grim. “I apologize, princess. You shouldn’t have to see this.”

  “See what?” I pressed.

  When he remained silent, I turned back around and leaned out of the window. “Stop!” I shouted to the procession before the palanquin, but of course, they couldn’t understand me.

  I threw open the door to the palanquin and tumbled out, banging my knees painfully against the cold ground.

  “Zadie!” the sultan cried out in alarm.

  Ignoring him, I forced myself to stand and began striding in the direction of the courtyard.

  Shouts drifted up behind me as I quickened my pace. Another scream echoed through the streets, and I shivered. I wished I had my elij, or any kind of blade, even if I couldn’t use it properly anymore. But even unarmed, I would not let anybody be hurt in the street.

  “Zadie!” Iram’s voice sounded behind me, followed by the pounding of heavy boots over hard stone. “Zadie.” He grasped my elbow, a look of total bafflement on his face.

  “Can’t you hear that woman screaming?” I snapped, forgetting that I was supposed to be charming him. “Weren’t you just telling me how important it is to keep your people safe?”

  “Yes, but–”

  I gave a frustrated snarl and pulled out of his grip, hurrying over the flagstones, looking wildly around for any sign of the woman in danger. When I saw what was happening, I froze on the spot.

  The woman wasn’t being hurt by people on the streets of the city. She was being trussed up by guards, bound tightly with rope and dragged toward a tall, wooden spike in the middle of the circular courtyard.

  A public flogging.

  “Zadie.” Iram appeared at my side again.

  “What’s going on?” My voice was high, my heart thundering in my chest.

  “She’s a spirit sympathizer,” Iram said in a tight voice.

  “What does that mean?”

  Others gathered in the courtyard turned in our direction, pointing, jaws dropping as they realized their sultan stood among them.

  Iram gripped my arm, lowering his voice. “It means she believes the spirits should be free to do as they please. It means she doesn’t believe in the dominance of my royal line and the sorcerers at the Order of Smoke over the spirit world.”

  I looked around the courtyard, taking in the statues on plinths, the carvings in the side of the gleaming, marble walls. The illustrations showed fire turning to smoke, human figures rising dominant over the mythical creatures carved into the walls.

  My gaze finally came to rest back on the woman tied to the stake, on the dry grasses being piled around her, the guard standing ominously close by, a flaming torch flickering hungrily in his hand.

  My stomach churned. “You can’t… You’re not…”

  The sultan turned me firmly around and marched me back toward the palanquin. All the power drained from my limbs at the realization of what they planned to do with her.

  “Zadie,” Iram said patiently, “you say you want to be sultanah. Well, with power comes responsibility. My kingdom is powerful because of the order here. Anyone who fights against that order must be made an example of. And it works, Zadie. Do you know how many uprisings there have been throughout Phoenitia’s history? None.” His hand tightened on my arm. “Most people are very happy here. It’s unfortunate you had to see such a rare, sad part of our city.”

  The screams started up behind me, the chatter of an excited crowd. Nausea rose in my stomach and I bent over, convinced I was going to vomit right there in the street. Although we walked farther and farther from the courtyard, I was sure I could hear the snap and crackle of the fire, feel the flames licking at my ankles, blistering my skin…

  The sultan kept walking stiffly, supporting me with one arm and barking instructions to his guards, who hurried forward to scoop me up and bundle me back into the palanquin.

  I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “You’re freezing!” The sultan tenderly placed two thick, woolen blankets over my knees, a third around my shoulders. “I expect the mountains do take some getting used to after the desert.”

  I stared numbly at my lap, the fire still flickering before my eyes.

  My plan to charm this strange sultan, to convince him to trust me so I could steal the Book of Names from under his nose, suddenly seemed like the worst idea I’d ever come up with.

  The gray and red streets passed by in a blur. I didn’t trust myself to speak to Iram again, so I simply smiled weakly as he pointed out other areas of interest in the city �
� the library, some public gardens, a huge fountain.

  All I could see were the spirits being crushed beneath the hand of man, carved into the city walls, represented as statues in the garden, even holding up the huge bowl the fountain flowed into.

  All I could hear was the screaming of the woman who believed the spirits might deserve something better than the city’s architecture told her they did.

  “Ah! Here we are.” The sultan straightened in the seat opposite me as the palanquin turned onto a tree-lined stone road leading up to a huge fortress, then slowed to a halt outside. He shot me a concerned smile. “Hopefully once we’re out of the palanquin you might start to feel better, Zadie. I’d forgotten Hepzibah said they made you feel quite unwell.”

  I did my best to return his smile, praying he thought travel sickness was all that affected me. “Thank you, Iram,” I managed.

  He stepped out of the palanquin first and offered me a hand. I descended on shaky legs, and his frown deepened. “You should have said something, Zadie. Would you prefer to ride one of the horses on the way back?”

  I shook my head slowly. At least inside the palanquin, I could stare at my lap and pretend there weren’t women being burned on the streets. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m sure some rest here will help…”

  I turned my head up to the huge fortress. Like the palace, it had been constructed of a shining marble. Unlike the other buildings we had seen, however, not a single carving marked the wall. It shone like a dark crown, its circular walls interspersed with tall towers that reached to the pale skies above us.

  All around us grew green plants to rival even the gardens Safiyya had shown me in Astaran.

  Iram smiled thinly. “Welcome to the Order of Smoke, the oldest enclave of sorcerers in the twelve kingdoms.”

  I bit down hard on my lip. This is the place where the lamps are being kept. I can find out useful information here. “And how many sorcerers live here?”

  Iram looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure… At least a hundred. Sister Suna will be able to tell you an exact number. We should have time to talk with her while they seek out information on the Book of Names. Now, are you sure you’re feeling better?”

  I wasn’t. My hands continued to tremble, my heart fluttering like a date palm. “Much better, thank you.”

  “Good.” Iram patted my shoulder awkwardly and turned back to the building. “And just in time! Here are the people who can tell us everything we could ever want to know about the spirits.”

  A tall, pale woman in a thick, white fur cloak and emerald robes approached us, flanked by other men and women in robes of black, who were trailed by servants carrying huge bowls containing green flames to keep their masters warm. When the woman drew closer, I saw that even her eyes were a startling green.

  Does that have something to do with her sorcery?

  “Sultan Iram.” She bowed to the sultan, then turned to me with a serene expression. “And Princess Scheherazade. Welcome to the Order of Smoke. My name is Suna, Head of the Order.”

  But my gaze drifted to the man behind her, dressed in plain servant’s garb. Unlike the sultan and the sorcerers, this man had dark skin and hair, his eyes brown like mine, his nose proud and protruding.

  My breath caught. This servant was from the desert.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Head of the Order led us along a flagstone path beneath a towering, black arch, the servants clustering around us so we also benefited from the flickering green flames. Ahead of us, pale light streamed in from where a vast courtyard opened up in the middle of the fortress, smoke drifting up from great fires, more men and women in black robes looking curiously in our direction. Some of them wore bands of green silk around their arms. I guessed that must be the color of the sorcerers.

  I probably should have been frightened in the midst of those who shared the vizier’s power. But I couldn’t keep my gaze from drifting back to the servant just ahead of me, the man whose dark skin, hair, and eyes sang to me of the desert. Of home.

  “Are you enjoying your time in Jafaryn, princess?” Suna asked.

  “Hmm? Oh… Yes. It’s great, thank you.” I wasn’t really listening, my attention still on the man from the desert.

  How did he end up here? Where is he from?

  Iram tutted. “Unfortunately, we encountered a spirit sympathizer on our way here. It…upset the princess.”

  The procession stopped at his words, and my skin tingled as dozens of questioning eyes turned toward me.

  “It… We don’t have such punishments where I come from.” And I pray we never do.

  I flushed under Suna’s piercing gaze, but made myself meet her brilliant green eyes. At first glance, she didn’t look much older than me. But her face held a kind of perfection that made her look almost unreal, ageless.

  “You are interested in Hanan,” she said in a cool, crisp voice.

  A Khirideshi name. I realized she was talking about the servant I’d been staring at. “W-who?”

  She snapped her fingers, and the man from the desert stepped forward, bowing low. “You recognized him as one of your former subjects. How? I don’t detect any sorcery in your blood.”

  I stared at the weathered, brown face, the dark, frightened eyes of the servant bowing low before me. I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. “I didn’t recognize him… But I thought he looked more like a man of the desert than anyone I’ve seen in Phoenitia.”

  Suna regarded me a moment longer, then seemed to decide this answer satisfied her. She continued walking into the courtyard, and the rest of the procession moved with her. “We have servants here from all over the twelve kingdoms. In exchange for their services to the Order, they are well looked after.” Her penetrating gaze slid sideways to me again. “You will be well looked after, too, princess, for assisting the Chosen One in his great work.”

  The Chosen One? I glanced at Iram. With a name like that, no wonder he thinks he’s going to bring down the mountains.

  As we crossed the courtyard, the servants rushed forward to open two huge, glass doors set into the gleaming marble. Inside, a fire roared within a fireplace carved in a similar fashion to the ones I’d seen in the rest of the city, showing spirits being trampled by men. Tall bookcases of pale wood stood starkly against the black marble walls.

  Suna walked over to sit in a low chair by the fire, made comfortable with embroidered yellow cushions, then gestured for me and the sultan to take the seats opposite her. I sat down gingerly.

  The Khirideshi servant brought over a silver teapot and poured three steaming cups of a tea heavy with spices and sweetened milk. I tried to catch his eye, longing to see my home there, but he avoided looking at me.

  “Now, tell me, Sultan.” Suna clasped her hands together, her face growing grave. “How is Sister Hepzibah? We have been surprised not to see her since she returned to Jafaryn.”

  “What?” For a moment, the sultan’s calm exterior flickered, irritation crossing his face. “She hasn’t been to congratulate you on your appointment as Head of the Order?”

  Suna bowed her head, as if saddened, but I caught the satisfied look on her face. “Don’t be too harsh on her, Your Imperial Majesty. Our sister must be disappointed to have missed out on the opportunity herself while she was away in Astaran. But she will come to see that the work she did in the name of the prophecy was more valuable than any title.”

  “My apologies, Sister Suna,” Iram said in a cold voice, his jaw set. “On my return, I will see to it that Sister Hepzibah visits.” He cleared his throat, cricking his neck to either side to loosen the tension in his shoulders. “I’m afraid there have been other oversights on her part, too, however.”

  “Oh?” Again, delight briefly flickered across Suna’s face before she persuaded an expression of concern onto her perfect features. She leaned forward, resting her hands on her skirts.

  The sultan turned to me and smiled warmly. “Fortunately, Princess Zadie has been able to assist me where Hep
zibah failed. It’s why we’re here today, actually.”

  Suna turned once more to face me, her brows lowered, her lips thin. “You are truly committed to the cause of the Chosen One then.”

  It wasn’t exactly a question, but I felt compelled to answer. “Sultan Iram has generously shown me a side of Phoenitia not known in the south. And… And it seems he and I have mutual goals.”

  Suna’s eyebrows shot up, but she said nothing for a moment. When she spoke again, she lowered her voice. “And what is this vital information you have shared with His Imperial Majesty, which even Sister Hepzibah has missed?”

  Before I could reply, Iram spoke eagerly. “Tell me, Sister Suna, what do you know of the Book of Names?”

  “The Book of Names? It was destroyed generations ago, by Astaran.” She shot me a disgruntled look.

  The sultan nodded. “So we believed. But the princess tells me that’s not the case.” He turned to me with a wide smile. “Zadie tells me with this Book of Names, I can control the spirits who have been so…defiant.”

  The sister’s pretty nose wrinkled. “Of course, if you had the book it would be possible...” She cast another unhappy look in my direction. “And you’re sure the princess is not...mistaken?”

  I forced myself to smile again. “The ring-spirit reminded me that I’d read about it at the Cave of Wonders. I’m certain the book was never destroyed.”

  The sultan leaned forward. “I hope the Order might house some old research, some papers or books from Astaran, which might contain information on the book. Of course, we would never have looked through the Astarian literature for such information before…”

  The sister sat frozen for a moment, then turned to one of the men in black robes behind her. “Brother Tufan, please go to the archives and ask the scholars to look through any Astarian literature for references to the Book of Names.” Twisting back around to face us, she reached out for her cup of tea and took a very small sip. “If we have any useful information here, it will be easy enough to find it. Our scholars are excellent. If there’s any mention of the book’s location, they’ll find it.”