Gifting Fire

by Alina Boyden

  It took my mind a moment to assemble the pieces of my memory, to recall yesterday’s horrible events. Kadiro. I was in Kadiro, trapped within the walls of Ahmed Shah’s new palace, and the voice I heard outside my chambers, thick with sarcasm, was Karim’s. “Calm down, Sikander, I’m sure my wife-to-be will be thrilled to see me.”

  I sat up, a thin silk sheet sliding off my body into my lap just as Karim came striding into the room. Sikander walked close beside him, one hand on the hilt of his talwar.

  “Sleep well, your highness?” Karim asked, his lips following the upward curve of his mustache as he smirked at me, his eyes taking in the thin white kameez I wore, making me acutely aware of how sheer the fabric was. My cheeks burned, and I pulled the silken sheet in front of myself, though I knew I must have looked ridiculous.

  “So modest?” It was a taunt, but the husky note in his voice betrayed him. He liked it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, remembering that I needed to play the role of the beaten and submissive girl if I was going to keep him from guessing my plans. I bowed my head. “Was I supposed to be up earlier, your highness?”

  “My father and mother would like for you and your sisters to breakfast with us in the garden,” Karim explained. “I’ve come to collect you.”

  “I’ll need a few moments to get dressed, your highness,” I told him, not letting the silk sheet drop. I knew how little good it would do me if Karim wanted to touch me, but I couldn’t help myself; it was the only defense from his roving eyes that I had, and it helped to keep my revulsion from overwhelming me.

  Karim stepped closer, and were it not for my years of training as a courtesan, I’d have flinched. As it was, I kept perfectly still, my breathing a bit shallow, but not noticeably so. I didn’t gasp or shy away or cringe. I sat there, eyes downcast, not moving a muscle, waiting to see what he would do, every fiber of my being praying that he wouldn’t touch me.

  Karim sat on my bedside, just inches away from me, and I didn’t know if he was testing me, or if he was just unaware of how viscerally horrified I was to be sitting so close to him, with no weapons, and no one to protect me other than Sikander. But he hadn’t stopped Karim the first time, and he hadn’t kept him out of my room this time. I’d thought maybe after the things I’d said to him yesterday that he would have been at least willing to keep Karim at arm’s length, but I supposed I’d just been imagining his regret.

  “Do you remember when you came to the palace in Rajkot with Arjun?” Karim asked.

  My mind drifted back to that night, not so long ago. I’d been wrapped in Arjun’s arms then, and Karim had been staring at me with hungry eyes, offering money for a night with me. And I’d refused him. I’d had the power then to refuse him. How bitterly ironic it was that after everything I’d been through, after everything I’d worked for, I didn’t have that power now.

  “I remember,” I whispered, wondering if he was bringing it up now only to gloat.

  “I behaved foolishly that night,” he said, the apologetic tone in his voice taking me completely by surprise. “I didn’t understand your worth then. But I do now. That’s why I made this marriage alliance, that is why I will honor you as my first wife, even though you cannot bear me any children.”

  He’d phrased it as if it were an act of kindness on his part, as if an ordinary marriage was far too good for a barren hijra like me. But I said nothing, because I didn’t have it in me to thank him, not after everything he’d done, and I knew that showing the anger I was feeling would just make everything so much worse. So I sat there in silence, head bowed, waiting for him to finish saying whatever it was that he wanted to say.

  “You may not have chosen me,” he allowed, “but you’re a smart girl. I know that eventually you will realize that this is best for you, and best for your sisters. Someday soon, I will be the sultan of Nizam and Mahisagar, and you will be my sultana, and with your mind and my sword, we will soon find ourselves rulers of all Daryastan.”

  I didn’t miss the meaning of his words. Ruling all of Daryastan meant conquering Virajendra, but Registan too. It meant conquering Bikampur. It meant killing Arjun. If he thought for one second that I would fight against Arjun for him, then he had lost his mind.

  “And while my dream is that one day we will work together in harmony, until you come to your senses and I can be sure that I can trust you, I will keep a very close eye on you,” he warned, at last showing me the real reason for his visit. He reached forward and brushed back my hair with his fingers, and though I found his touch repulsive, it was gentle. “But I’m not going to hurt you, so there’s no need for all of this fear.”

  I frowned, wondering what he meant by that, realizing only upon reflection that my entire body was as rigid as a marble statue, that I had scarcely drawn breath since he had entered the room, that my heart was hammering hard enough in my chest that he must have seen my pulse in the veins in my neck. My cheeks burned. I’d thought I was doing a better job of hiding my emotions than I had been.

  “I’m sorry, your highness,” I said.

  “For what?” Karim asked. “Trying to have me killed yesterday, or being afraid of me now?”

  “They’re connected, are they not, your highness?” I replied.

  He chuckled at that. I was scanning his face frantically, trying to work out what emotion was lurking behind those dark eyes of his. He was smiling at me, and he seemed amused, but it was so hard to tell sometimes with men like Karim. I’d had quite a few clients like him, clients whose moods could change in a flash, and who took special pleasure in hurting the girls who offended them.

  “I don’t hold it against you,” he said, which I believed not at all. “You’re headstrong, and you’re usually able to win these little contests. But I’m not Arjun, and I’m not your father. I’m not going to lose. The sooner you accept that and make your peace with it, the happier we will both be, my darling.”

  He leaned forward then and kissed me on the cheek, and Sikander lifted not a finger to stop him. I didn’t know if I was grateful for that or not, if stopping him from kissing me would make my life harder or easier. I just knew that I hated it, and I didn’t want it, and I was powerless to stop it on my own.

  “I’ll leave you to get dressed. My father and mother are eager to see you this morning.” Karim stood up, bowed to me like a courtier, and breezed from the room.

  I let out a sound that was half sigh and half whimper the instant he was gone. I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my face in them, my whole body shaking with fear and disgust. So this was what I had to look forward to every morning from now on? God, if not for the hope I had in my plans, I’d have killed myself from despair.

  “I’m sorry, your highness.”

  I glanced up at Sikander, whose mouth was a hard line, his brow knitted with worry. I hadn’t expected him to apologize to me. He never had before.

  “For what?” I asked.

  His jaw tensed, and so did his fists, but he wasn’t angry with me, I didn’t think. If I’d had to guess, I’d have said he was angry with himself.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stop him from entering your chambers or touching you, your highness, but I thought it would make things worse,” he said.

  “You were probably right,” I replied, though that didn’t make me feel any better. But if Karim was going to make it a habit to roam this part of the palace, then whether or not he touched me was the least of my worries. Sikander couldn’t stop my husband-to-be from kissing me. But he could stop Karim from doing other things.

  “I want your men posted outside my sister Lakshmi’s door from now on,” I told him, noting the way his eyes widened with alarm. “She has caught Karim’s eye, and she is eleven years old—the same age I was when Karim attacked me.”

  Sikander’s face flushed crimson with rage. Had he not remembered how old I had been? Or perhaps he had never conceived of me as being as
small and helpless and naive as Lakshmi. He stood there, frozen in place, staring at me, his mouth half-open, his hand gripping the hilt of his talwar so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. So the regret wasn’t false. That was something.

  “Sikander, whatever strife there has been between us, I want your word that you won’t let him hurt my little sister,” I said.

  “You have it, your highness,” he replied. “I will have men posted outside her door day and night, and I will not permit any man to enter her chambers for any reason. I swear it.”

  “Thank you,” I told him, and I meant it. It was a huge relief to know that Karim would have to fight his way into Lakshmi’s bedchamber if he wanted to hurt her. I didn’t think he would do that; it would create too much trouble, even in a household where he had all the power. No, rapists like him thrived in environments where their behavior went unchallenged, where people made excuses for them and swept their misdeeds under the rug.

  “Your highness.” Sikander bowed stiffly, and left the room. I heard him issuing new orders in the hallway, though his words were too muffled to make out.

  With Lakshmi’s security taken care of, at least insofar as I was able, I decided it was time to get out of bed and get dressed, lest Karim return in a fouler temper. I threw aside my silk sheet and stood up, stretching out my arms and legs, just as Hina and two of her celas came striding into the room, already fully dressed in ajrak skirts and long blouses, carrying wooden boxes of clothes and jewels like proper handmaidens.

  “It was never my intention for you to serve me in your own home, Hina,” I said, my cheeks heating as I realized that I was occupying her favorite bedchamber, and she had arrived to wait on me hand and foot.

  “I knew what I was volunteering for, your highness,” Hina replied. “And anyway, I wouldn’t trade places with you for all the gems in your father’s palace.” Her eyes drifted back toward the corridor, back to where Karim had been, and I caught her implication at once.

  I shuddered involuntarily as I remembered Karim’s kiss on my cheek. God, I wanted to take the longest bath in the world. I wanted to scrub my skin until it bled to get the feeling of him off of it, but I didn’t have time for that. I had to face Karim and his parents at breakfast.

  “We’ll need an excuse to fly our zahhaks today, your highness,” Hina informed me in a low voice as she and her celas began dressing me in my thunder zahhak–inspired peshwaz, with its matching jewelry. “If you are to be our messenger, I want to point out the havelis of the most trustworthy emirs of Kadiro. They will have zahhaks, and will be willing to use them to carry our messages.”

  I nodded, as that made perfect sense. I would need to get a sense of the city’s layout if I was going to sneak through it at night, make contact with one of the emirs, send the messages, and get back to the palace safely. It was ridiculous, that I could so easily secure my own freedom by simply disappearing as I had that night four years ago in Nizam, but that my sisters, and my zahhak, and my place in the world held me back from doing it. So, I could slip away from the palace at night, but I would have to return before morning, lest everyone I loved suffer in my stead.

  “There’s something you should see, your highness,” Hina said as her celas put the finishing touches on my makeup and my jewelry.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  She motioned to the patio, and I followed her out, our presence startling the fish zahhaks from their perches. They let out shrill cries and beat the air back with their indigo wings, looking for all the world like miniature river zahhaks as they raced away from the palace, skimming the water with their belly scales. But as my eyes followed their movements, they caught sight of the fish zahhaks’ much larger cousins.

  A pair of fire zahhaks were flying several hundred feet above us, making a lazy circuit of the lagoon. Their yellow underparts made them vanish into the rising sun, only to reappear a few moments later as a splash of fiery color against the blue backdrop of the morning sky. As they banked into their turn, I got a better look at the crimson, flame-orange, and even purplish hues of their neck and back scales, my eyes squinting to try to make out a familiar pattern. Were they Registani animals? Was it Arjun and Arvind? My heart soared at the possibility, though I knew it would cause me nothing but trouble if they had arrived here alone, without an army or an aerial armada to support them.

  “Do you recognize them?” I asked Hina.

  She shook her head. “I was thinking that you might. Are they your friends?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured, studying them carefully, watching the way they flew. They were too far away to really make out properly, but more and more I didn’t think they were any zahhaks I knew. “I don’t think that’s Padmini. I told Arjun to stay away until I sent for him. He wouldn’t just show up here, not without a very good reason.”

  “Then maybe Mahisagar has fire zahhaks now,” Hina muttered, her face darkening.

  I shook my head. “Where would they find them?”

  “I don’t know, your highness,” she replied. “I only know what my eyes are showing me.”

  As if to prove her right, a pair of acid zahhaks swooped down and joined the fire zahhaks in a single formation for a short time, the riders chatting with one another cheerfully, before they broke apart, orbiting Kadiro’s harbor in opposite directions. They were definitely patrolling together. However unlikely it may have been, Karim had gotten his hands on fire zahhaks.

  I sighed, wondering just how many animals they had now. With twelve acid zahhaks, and at least two fire zahhaks, their numbers stood at fourteen. If I could convince Sikander to fight alongside me, which was no certain thing, then I’d have just six zahhaks with which to oppose Karim, maybe as many as twelve or fourteen if Arjun was very successful at recruiting his fellow Registani princes to his side. But fighting a battle with even odds wasn’t the cleverest of strategies, and I thought everyone would balk at the prospect. Zahhaks were rare and expensive and represented every kingdom’s wealth and prestige and power. To wager all that on a hijra was asking too much. I needed some way of tipping the balance of power in my favor, or there would be no battle, regardless of how many messages I sent.

  Haider and Tamara might be able to help me, but I didn’t know how many zahhaks they would bring, or if I would be inviting disaster by asking for Safavian and Khevsurian assistance here. What if they just decided to take Zindh for themselves? I didn’t think Haider or Tamara would do that to me, not when we’d been such close friends as children, but Shah Ismail was a different matter. He was a man cut from the same cloth as my father. If he saw an opportunity to grow his empire, he wouldn’t care who it hurt.

  “Razia, are you ready yet?” Karim called from just outside my chambers.

  “I am, your highness,” I replied, forcing myself to smile as I said those words, because I knew that would help to disguise the dread in my voice. I glanced over at Hina, who gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, her hazel eyes betraying a sentiment that I could only describe as “better you than me.”

  I hurried from my chambers, joining Karim in the hallway. He looked me over and nodded his approval, which annoyed me a little, as I certainly hadn’t asked for it, but I knew better than to make a scene. I was going to have to accept these patronizing gestures from him for the time being. I had learned patience as a courtesan, and though I’d been spoiled by Arjun ever since I’d met him, I hadn’t forgotten what it was like to put my desires aside in the moment in order to gain what I wanted long-term. That was the game I had to play with Karim, and it meant not antagonizing him or giving him any signs that I despised him. I didn’t have to look happy to see him, not yet—that would have made him suspicious—but I couldn’t look completely miserable either.

  I settled on a cautious smile, as if I was hoping that I would meet his approval but was still worried and frightened nonetheless. It seemed to be the right note to strike, because
it was met at once by a smirk on Karim’s part.

  “You look very beautiful this morning,” he informed me as we walked toward the sandstone stairwell that led down to the gardens.

  “Thank you, your highness,” I replied, bowing my head demurely.

  I was fortunate that the gardens were relatively close by, so I didn’t have to make any more small talk with Karim before arriving at the pavilion where Ahmed Shah was taking his breakfast at the head of a large rectangular cloth. He was sitting cross-legged on a silk cushion, flanked by his wife, with spaces open beside them for Karim and myself. My sisters were already seated in their own places, along with a man I didn’t recognize. He looked vaguely like Karim, though he was somewhat darker skinned and stockier of build, and he wore a beard that was fuller, less carefully trimmed.

  “Good morning, dear,” Asma said as I sat with Karim on our cushions beside hers.

  “Good morning, mother-in-law,” I replied, keeping my eyes properly downcast, my hands folded neatly in my lap. I knew that she was watching my every move carefully, and I didn’t want to give her the least cause for complaint. I wasn’t sure how much power Asma held here, but I knew that the primary wife could often be the tyrant of the zenana in any royal family. She would have more cause to interact with me than any of the men. She would see more of my behavior than they would, and one word from her could curtail my freedoms in an instant.

  “You look like a proper Nizami princess,” she observed, taking in my thunder zahhak jewelry, and my clothes, which shared those animals’ coloration. “We’ll have to have new clothes made for you now that you are to be wed to my Karim. I think it’s only fitting for a new bride to wear the clothing of her husband’s people, don’t you?”