by Emma Hamm
It looked as though he’d seen a ghost.
“Tahira?” Raheem whispered, and his hand started to shake on Nadir’s shoulder. “It’s not possible.”
In return, the Qatal appeared to be more shaken than he ever thought possible from the strange woman. She was an immovable block of confidence and strength. Yet, her own cheeks were pale and her jaw quaked the moment she set eyes on Raheem.
“Husband?” she whispered. “You’re alive?”
Husband? Nadir looked over at his friend and remembered all the stories he’d told of his wife. How she’d changed into the most beautiful of birds in Bymere. Nadir had always thought she was some kind of peacock or perhaps a bird of paradise. He hadn’t ever thought Raheem had meant a hunting hawk.
It made so much more sense now. Raheem had claimed she was so strong, capable of more than any other woman in Bymere. Nadir had always thought that was her beauty and her abilities to welcome people into their home. Why hadn’t he ever realized Raheem wouldn’t have wanted that in a wife?
Of course Raheem would end up with someone how could fight as well as he. Or perhaps, this was the woman who had taught his personal guard how to fight so well.
Raheem released his hold on Nadir’s shoulder and stumbled forward. “You’re alive?” he repeated. “How is that possible? They told me you were dead.”
“They said the same of you.”
“I watched you die,” he murmured, reaching out a hand for her to take. “I saw it from far away. Watched them shoot you from the air and watched you fall. I couldn’t catch you in time. The village… they burned everything. I couldn’t find you.”
A tear slid down her cheek. “Not me,” she whispered. “I wasn’t there that day. I was with the Alqatara… Raheem.”
Then they were in each other’s arms, and he couldn’t watch the way the largest man he’d ever known cried the moment he touched his wife. It felt too personal. Too much for him to handle when he was already feeling as though he might shatter.
A hand slid into his and tugged him toward the door. “Come on,” Sigrid whispered. “Let’s give them a little time. The army is back. We need to speak with the advisors and the man who has replaced you.”
He didn’t want to go. Though it made him feel thoroughly uncomfortable to be intruding on this soft moment between them, he also wanted to remind himself that there was more to this world than just war. He wanted to see the moment families were reunited, because that meant there was something worth fighting for.
Another hand slid into his. This one as dark as the other was pale. Camilla tugged him as well, then the two women from Wildewyn pulled him away from his own private quarters and back toward his responsibilities.
Camilla whispered, “Come, Sultan. There is work still to be done.”
He cast one more glance over his shoulder before forcing himself into the hall. The strange creature remained with the couple, watching with wide eyes from a corner where she’d wedged herself.
“Should we—” he gestured to his wife’s new pet.
Sigrid shook her head. “In her own way, Eivor will know how to help them. She’s strange, I’ll give you that, but she seems to know how to fix people better than I know how to kill them.”
He’d have to ask her about the strange woman with skulls at her waist later on. He wanted to hear this story, to understand how his wife always managed to collect the oddities of this world. But for now, there was work to be done. As Camilla had said, the responsibilities of life called him.
Nadir squared his shoulders and looked at Solomon, the man who was a mirrored reflection of himself. Without thinking, he blurted out, “You’re my brother, aren’t you?”
The other man nodded. “Half.”
He didn’t know what to think of that. His entire life was shaped by mourning one brother, and the mere idea that there was another tilted his world on its axis.
Nadir nodded. “Our mother is dead.”
“I knew she would die while I was gone.” Solomon’s eyes turned sad and the scar on his face puckered. “It’s a shame I wasn’t there to say goodbye, but I assume you took care of that for me.”
“Perhaps we’re even now.”
“Even?” Solomon repeated. “You didn’t owe me anything.”
“You sat on my throne while I went through a ritual of death and watched our mother die. I think I had the easier half of the bargain.” He stared down the golden halls and reminded himself Solomon hadn’t been born into this life. His brother didn’t know the courtly intrigue, the way the world wanted to kill him, and how his closest advisors were his greatest enemies. “Now, where are my advisors?”
“Meeting in the great hall.”
“Why were we not called?”
“We?” Solomon arched a dark brow and strode toward the great hall. “Are we interchangeable now, brother?”
“If I need someone to stand in for a blade or an arrow, perhaps.”
Nadir threw the mantle of Sultan around himself. His shoulders straightened, his mind cleared, and his hands curled into fists as he prepared himself for a battle of wits. This would not be easy. They didn’t want him to be anything more than a puppet but he found himself tired of these games.
If they wanted someone to bow at their feet, they would need to find another sultan. But the royal blood which flowed in his veins was the last of a great line.
They would find it very difficult to replace him.
Sigrid strode beside him, her booted feet striking the stone like drums. She’d refused to take off the clothing of her people, and he had to admit feeling a certain level of appreciation for that.
The first time she’d been here, she hadn’t tried to fit in either. She insisted on wearing clothing from her own people, never bowing to Bymerian traditions.
Nadir had always thought it arrogance or a level of homesickness he couldn’t understand. Now, he realized she wore her nationality with a badge of pride. It didn’t matter where she went, she would not bow to another country trying to change her.
It took bravery to do that when everyone around her said there was something wrong with what she was doing. He wished he had that kind of bravery inside him.
The four of them strode into the great hall. The pools of water on either end were still perfectly still. Cerulean glass with large koi fish splashing sunset colors in smudges as they moved. The red curtains hanging from the ceiling dipped into the water as if nothing had changed. But it had.
The advisors all sat in their respective seats, arguing with each other until they saw the four people enter.
He stared at each face as he strode toward them. Nadir's clothing was understated, still the same garments which had been given to him in Falldell. White shirt, simple brown pants that billowed around his legs, and wrapped boots that stretched up to his ankles.
They wouldn’t mistake him for someone else. That would be far too foolish for anyone to do.
Each person was more familiar to him now than his own family’s faces. They’d guided him through life in the wrong direction, and perhaps they now knew he was going to seek retribution for what they had done to him.
Abdul sat at the forefront with Saafiya at his side. His first wife was supposed to remain in her prison, the rooms which he’d given her filled with everything she’d ever need and enough lady’s maids to keep her busy.
And yet, here she sat. Freed even though he’d never given anyone permission to release her.
He pointed directly at her and calmly asked, “Brother, did you release this woman from her imprisonment?”
“I believe she released herself, Sultan.”
“That’s a problem then.”
“I agree.” Solomon crossed his arms over his chest. “But I’m not sure what you’re going to do with her.”
“What I should have done a long time ago.”
Abdul stood from his chair, shaking with rage. “What is the meaning of this? Which one of you is… Explain yourselves!”
“I will not. It appears as though you have deceived the entire country with your antics, and I for one will not stand by while you play foolish games. Enough with this, Nadir. You are not fit to be sultan and this clearly proves it.”
Nadir stepped forward. It didn’t escape his notice that he now stood where his own people had stood for years begging him to help them. He had sat in that empty throne, staring down at them and never once tried to see what it looked like through their eyes.
Abdul was so far above him. He looked like an angered god staring down in judgement. This wasn’t the way his people should feel when they were asking their sultan for help. They shouldn’t fear he was going to smite them, or that he would leap from the throne and tear out their throats.
The empty throne stared back at him. This was his place, and his father’s place before him. He should have done something great in his life already. Should have filled the history books with all the things his bloodline was capable of, but he hadn’t. Instead, all he’d done was wallow in grandeur while his people begged for help. Staring up at him like he was a god.
And he’d promised to become one.
The thought hardened in his mind. He’d promised the Alqatara he would be a god to end all gods. His people would follow him, because he was a terrifying creature who would defend them or destroy them.
Now was the time to take that step forward. To avenge the soul of his mother and father, of his brother who had died, of the woman who had birthed them.
To give all the souls who had died under his name a reason for their death.
Nadir stared up at Abdul and Saafiya, their eyes casting judgement they had no right to give. He looked at his oldest advisor, the man who had trained him as a child, and quietly asked, “Were you ever going to set me free?”
“Free?” Abdul repeated. “What are you talking about? You were Sultan of Bymere. No one had captured you, or forced you to do anything you didn’t want.”
They had, but he’d let the words remain. “Were you ever going to release your hold on me?”
“What hold?”
Nadir shook his head. “Enough lies, Abdul. You whispered in my ears all the things you knew would force me to become a weapon of your own making. You used me. Changed me into someone that relied on you and you alone. So I will ask you one more time. Were you ever going to free me from your chains? To allow me to think for myself and become the sultan I should have been?”
Abdul floundered for a few moments. His jaw dropped open in surprise and his eyes widened in fear before he managed to clamp down on the emotions. He strengthened his stance, hands curled into fists at his side, and replied, “No.”
“You have nothing else to say?”
“There’s nothing else to tell you. You’ve already figured it out, haven’t you? The boy king who needed someone to guide him. I did what any good man would have done for the country. I took you under my wing. I helped you see the world as it truly is. Can you blame me for that?”
“I can.”
Again, Abdul’s jaw opened. He worked at words, moving his lips until they finally came out. “Then you need to see reason again. This country has become better for our help. You casting us aside will only send Bymere back into the chaos it once was.”
“You mean the peace my father built? The kindness my brother instilled in the people?”
“I mean the poverty!” Abdul spat. “The Beastkin who ran wild in the streets and hunted our men and women! The creatures in the night that terrified women and children in their sleep. You don’t remember the world the way it was when your father and your brother were making changes that no one else wanted. I am doing what is right for this country.”
Nadir put his foot on the first step. “You’re doing what you think is right. That is not your decision, but mine.”
“The council has already decided you are not fit to run this country.”
“You all decided that a long time ago,” he replied, ascending the stairs further. “You did not ever give me a chance. You put thoughts in my head. You whispered accusations and lies that made me choose to do things I never wanted to do.”
“We helped this country.”
Nadir stepped in front of the throne he’d sat in so many times. The golden edges gleamed in the sunlight that poured from the open glass ceiling. He touched a hand to the ornate carvings, remembering his father doing the same thing.
This country deserves someone better than him. Perhaps that was why he would make a good sultan in the end. He would never feel worthy of this throne, or the people it symbolized.
Saafiya reached out her hand for him. The nails were perfectly clipped half-moons, so pretty it still made him shake. Those caramel fingertips had touched every part of him. Including his heart, at one point.
“Husband,” she whispered, her voice a melody he remembered from his childhood. “Don’t do this. Trust us, we want to help.”
“Help?” he repeated. “You don’t want to help. You want to control. There’s a difference I don’t think you have ever understood.”
Abdul pointed at Solomon this time, raising his voice with another accusation. “And who is this? Are you not going to explain the man who looks exactly like you?”
“Would you believe me if I said that was Hakim?”
The startled expression on all his advisors faces gave him the answer he was looking for. They would believe it. They stared back at Solomon with grave eyes and guilt he recognized all too well.
Nadir had worn that expression for years. When he thought it was his fault that his brother had died. If he had just stepped in front of the blade. If he had been a better brother, a better soldier, even though he was only a child at the time.
He sank into the throne and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You killed him. Didn’t you?”
Abdul choked. “I would never attack one of the royal line.”
“You didn’t have to attack anyone. You paid someone to take that blade. All they had to do was scratch him. Poison such as that is impossible to survive.”
“I did no such thing.”
Nadir stared down at Abdul’s hands. He didn’t have to look at them, he could smell his fear. His eyes heated in anger.
“You killed my brother.”
“I say again, boy. I did no such thing.”
Nadir’s hands turned into claws. The scent of fear, guilt, and anger filled the air around him. It wasn’t coming just from Abdul and Saafiya. Everyone in the room was filled with the emotions, so thick it was a curtain around them. Sealing them inside the great hall with the memories of what they had done.
“All of you did,” he said. The great hall was so quiet he heard the drops of water as one of the koi fish shifted in the pools. “You ordered him killed for what reason?”
Always the brave one. Always the foolish one, Saafiya replied, “To save our country from an unfit sultan.”
An admission of guilt. The only one he needed.
Nadir’s shoulders curved in. He sank lower over his knees and looked up, down the hall at Sigrid who stared back at him. She was a pillar of justice, sparkling like a diamond in the darkness.
“Go,” he told her. “Take him with you.”
“Nadir—”
“I don’t want you to see.”
Her gaze softened, then she nodded and slipped a hand through Solomon’s arm. They strode out of the great hall. True to her nature, he heard Sigrid bar the door behind them.
Nadir finally looked at his advisors then. His forked tongue slipped between his lips and tasted their fear in the air.
“Son,” Abdul said, leaving his seat to place it between them. “You don’t want to do this.”
“But I do,” he replied, his words lisping as the dragon took over. “Your reign has ended. So begins the true reign of the God King.”
The change rippled through him and the screams ec
hoed in his head. Nadir didn’t leave the great hall until the cerulean pools had turned red with their blood.
29
Sigrid
“We have to return,” Sigrid said. She tucked her hands firmly under her arms, trying hard to hide their shaking. “There’s nothing we can do if we remain here.”
Camilla stepped forward from her place outside the library. “That’s not true. The army has already returned. The Earthen folk won’t follow the Bymerians here. They have no interest in desert fighting.”
They’d all remained here—Solomon, Camilla, and herself—waiting for Nadir to exit the great hall while wanting to remain out of his way. The screams had echoed for a while and then… silence.
Sigrid had moved them all down the hall much further the moment she noticed blood leaking beneath the doors. The humans didn’t need to see that. It would only make them more afraid, and Nadir wouldn’t want that. They were his trusted friends and family. They were in no danger from him.
“I don’t understand,” Sigrid said with a frustrated growl. “You want to return home. Why are you fighting me on this?”
“I don’t think it’s prudent to return when everyone thinks you’re dead. How many times have you said you wanted to return here? So stay here, Sigrid. Stay with him and help him make this country better. Keep the armies here, and leave the Beastkin to their own devices.”
She wished she could. She wanted to leave all those creatures and let them figure out their lives on their own. It wasn’t a bad future for them. They wanted freedom, and if she stayed with them, then she would only try to put them in a cage again.
Was this the right path? Sigrid had always thought she’d feel it in her gut if she was making the right choice. But every option right now felt as though it were going to make her sick. She wanted everyone to be happy and safe.
Perhaps that was too much to ask.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Sigrid turned, thinking it was Nadir, only to be disappointed when she saw Raheem striding toward them with his wife.