by Alina Boyden
“Yes, I had it made just this week.” Asma preened.
“I thought so,” I said. “Your tailor has cut it so perfectly. It’s so much more slimming than your other ones.”
Asma’s maidservants gaped at me in mute horror as the old woman’s cheeks darkened with embarrassment. The hate I saw in her eyes made the whole thing worth it, and I was sure I returned it tenfold.
“Razia,” Hina said, coming to stand beside me, “you didn’t get a chance to finish the story you were telling me earlier. How many men was it you killed in the assault on Shikarpur?”
“With my zahhak or with my katars?” I asked, not taking my eyes off Asma’s face. Her eyebrows shot up. Had she forgotten that?
“I only count men I kill with my own hands,” Hina replied, giving Asma a death stare of her own.
“Just the one, then,” I confessed. “But I did put my katar right through his neck, in one side and out the other.” I let my eyes flicker from Asma’s face to the hollow of her throat and back up, one side of my mouth quirking upward in a lopsided grin.
“Is everything all right in here?”
I looked up as Karim stepped into the room. He was noticing the way that Asma and her handmaidens had more or less squared off against myself and Hina.
“Everything is fine, your highness,” I said, before Asma could muster any words at all. “I was just admiring your mother’s new blouse. It’s very becoming. She has a very fine tailor.” I turned my eyes from Asma to Karim, and pretended to stare and grin. “As do you, your highness.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he came to greet me as he always did in the morning, taking my upper arms in his hands, rubbing them through the silk fabric of my blouse. “And you’ve decided to be a Zindhi today?”
“Well, I am the subahdar, your highness,” I reminded him, my voice slightly mocking, like I knew better than to really believe I was in charge here.
“You are,” he agreed, in much the same tone. What a delightful joke.
“Do you suppose there will be any pomegranates at breakfast this morning, your highness?” I asked, leading Karim from the room, totally ignoring his mother—and the best part was that he didn’t seem to notice, because he was too busy staring at my chest.
“Are they your favorite?” he asked.
“This time of year,” I allowed, “though I prefer the mangoes from Nizam. My servants used to keep great bowls of them in my bedchambers, and the air would be filled with their sweet aroma day and night.”
He smiled, and I could see him filing that tidbit away in the back of his mind for next year. It would make a lovely gift for the next time he beat me so badly that I needed stitches. Well, I didn’t intend for Karim to survive until the next mango season. I should have felt more conflicted, holding the arm of a man I intended to murder, but I didn’t, not really. He was a threat to me and a threat to Lakshmi, he was a rapist, he had killed Hina’s brother, and he was holding me prisoner. Whatever little baubles he gave me could erase none of those facts.
We strolled together along the walkway that ringed the palace’s innermost garden, the roof over our heads keeping the worst of the sun’s heat at bay, though the evening breezes had stalled overnight, leaving the air still and sticky, like it was most mornings. That was probably why Sultan Ahmed had four servants with fans beating the air for him as he sat on his cushioned dais in the garden’s central baradari. My sisters were there already, waiting for me, and Sakshi’s smile told me that she had dealt with Lakshmi’s climbing shoes, just as I’d asked. Sikander stood behind them, acting the part of the proper guardian.
Sultan Ahmed narrowed his eyes at me as we approached, but only for a brief moment, before directing his attention to his son. “Is your mother not coming?”
“Mother? She’s right—” Karim turned and looked for his mother, only spotting her a moment later, far behind us. I saw the color come to his cheeks as he realized he’d just left her behind, and I allowed myself a small smile. If I couldn’t take pleasure in the little things, then what was the point in living?
Karim stood there shamefaced until his mother had caught up, and he said, “Sorry, Mother, I thought you were right behind us.”
“Oh, is that my place?” Asma asked, arching an eyebrow, her expression absolutely savage.
“No, of course not, Mother,” Karim replied, while she took her place beside her husband.
“It’s all right, dear,” Asma told him, smiling sweetly. “You’re a young man, and young men are wont to be distracted.” She emphasized that last word while looking pointedly at me.
“She is very distracting,” Karim agreed, rubbing my back gently, right between my shoulder blades.
I felt his hand starting to drift lower, toward the handles of my katars, and I pulled away, taking his arm in both hands, grinning. “Well, forgive me, your highness, it was never my intention to distract! Let us sit, so that your mother and father need wait no longer for their breakfast.”
Karim was still smiling, evidently not having taken my sudden movement for an insult. I supposed my big smile and my girlish exclamation had sufficed to dispel any suspicions he might have had as to my feelings about having his hands on my body. How I had managed to suppress so many shudders over the last few weeks was a mystery even to me.
We had started to sink to our respective cushions when a trumpet blast made the both of us freeze and turn our eyes skyward, searching for the source of the sound. I looked west by instinct, and spotted the onrushing acid zahhak first, pointing at it. “Your highness, look!”
Karim stared after my finger, stopping on the zahhak a second later. Ahmed was standing and searching for it too as the trumpet blasts continued to ring out. It was an alarm call of some kind, though I hadn’t been privy to the trumpet calls of Mahisagar, as they were a closely guarded secret lest their enemies use them against them. Whatever the call, it changed the mood immediately. Karim and Ahmed looked at one another with worry, and I noted from Asma’s narrowed eyes that she understood the call too.
“Your highness, is that an alarm call?” I asked.
“Something’s wrong,” Karim said, rubbing my shoulders absentmindedly as he watched the rider’s approach. Squinting, he stared at the zahhak’s feathers, at the pattern of scales on its belly. “Father, I think that’s Faris’s animal.”
“If it is, then it can only mean one thing,” Ahmed replied. “Safavia has attacked Ahura.”
CHAPTER 21
My heart was in my throat as the emerald, turquoise, and sapphire wing feathers of the acid zahhak fluttered over our heads, the rider making a tight turn to bleed off speed before settling down on the paving stones of one of the garden’s wide paths. Haider had answered my call. He’d attacked Ahura. That must have meant that Tamara had agreed to do her part too. And Arjun would be coming. Tonight. God, I hadn’t let myself think of it, but tonight we would be reunited at long last, and I would be free.
It was all I could do to struggle to look confused and concerned rather than triumphant as the messenger climbed down from his zahhak to approach the sultan. Already I could see the signs of exhaustion on his face, the sweat soaking his hair, and his wrinkled clothes. He’d been flying all night, there was no question of that. Haider must have attacked at dusk. It was so hard not to smile as I imagined Safavian thunder zahhaks sweeping out of the graying twilight sky, raining lightning on my enemies. I’d never realized just how sweet revenge could feel.
“Forgive me, your majesty,” the messenger said as Asma rushed to cover herself with her dupatta, like anybody really wanted to get a better look at her. She glared at me, hissing, “Daughter-in-law, you will show a little modesty!”
I rolled my eyes, but wrapped my dupatta around my head and let it fall across my face, because it helped to hide my expression, and I was having a very hard time not grinning in triumph.
The messenger
cleared his throat again and bowed to Ahmed. “Your majesty, Ahura was attacked last night by thunder zahhaks. We don’t know how many, but a number of men were killed, and some fires were set. The fortifications are holding, but if this is a prelude to a Safavian invasion, we won’t last long without assistance.”
“Did you see what kingdom these thunder zahhaks came from?” Ahmed asked.
The man shook his head. “No, your majesty, it was too dark to see the riders, and one thunder zahhak looks much like another. We think they must be Safavians, as the Tarkivans wouldn’t risk venturing out so far when rumors say they’re embroiled in their own civil war. And the Nizamis are the only other thunder zahhak riders, but they are our allies, are they not?” His eyes flickered over to me as he asked the question.
“We are,” I declared, before anyone could suggest otherwise.
“So far as we know,” Asma muttered.
“If my father wanted to break our alliance, he would not attack Ahura, he would attack Kadiro,” I replied.
“Enough,” said Ahmed, motioning for both of us to shut up. “I don’t need women’s prattle distracting me at a time like this. It is the Safavians; we’ve expected their attack for some time. And now we must meet it.”
He looked to Karim’s cousin Rais, and asked, “Is your father ready to join us in Ahura as promised?”
“He will be, Uncle,” Rais replied. “I can fly straight to Jesera and we can be in Ahura by tomorrow morning at the latest.”
“Good, then go with God, boy,” Ahmed told him.
“Yes, Uncle.” Rais was grinning as he got to his feet. He walked over to Karim and the two clasped arms before hugging and pounding each other on the back. “Tomorrow we’ll show Shah Ismail what our family is made of, cousin.”
“Tomorrow,” Karim agreed.
I frowned. I hadn’t expected for Jesera to be prepared to join Ahmed Shah in battle. That meant we might be facing an aerial assault of not only a dozen acid zahhaks, but potentially a large number of fire zahhaks besides. I wondered how many Jesera might bring to the battle. If it was more than Arjun brought from Registan, then we would likely be outnumbered, unless Haider had brought a fair number of thunder zahhaks from Safavia. I supposed I would soon find out the answer.
Once Rais was gone, Ahmed said to Karim, “We’ll leave immediately for Ahura with all of our zahhak riders. We can’t risk leaving a single man behind.”
“You should leave at least two to serve as messengers, my husband, just to be safe,” Asma suggested.
“If we’re going to make a show of force, we need as many men as possible, dear,” Ahmed answered.
“Shall I have Sultana saddled, then, your majesty?” I asked him, bowing my head politely. I didn’t want to go, because that would ruin my plans, but not offering seemed foolish, especially when I knew there wasn’t a chance that he would actually bring me along. He didn’t trust me, and he would know of my connection to Haider. That would be enough to see me left here to command the attack on Kadiro I had arranged.
“No, you’re staying here,” Karim said without a moment’s hesitation, which meant that they must have discussed this eventuality and settled on their answer already.
I pretended to be confused all the same. “But, your highness, if Safavia is attacking, you’ll need more than a dozen zahhaks to defend Ahura. I have five thunder zahhaks, plus Lakshmi’s acid zahhak, at my command. That is no small force.”
“And if you could be trusted to use it in our defense, you would be coming, girl,” said Ahmed, “but you cannot.”
I stared at Karim through the thin fabric of my dupatta. “You don’t think you can trust me, even now, after all of this? Why? Because of a pair of shoes?”
“It has nothing to do with the shoes, Razia,” Karim said, putting his hands on my shoulders gently. “But if Safavia is attacking us, who would likely be leading that attack?”
I frowned, as if suddenly coming to the same realization they already had. “Haider . . .”
“We know of your affection for him, and his for you, girl,” Ahmed declared. “So, you will remain here, where you cannot add your numbers to his.”
“I have not seen Haider in seven years,” I protested.
“All the same, you will remain here,” Karim told me. “My father and I have already discussed this. And it will give you a chance to prove your loyalty to this alliance. We know Sikander and his men will fight for Nizam’s interests, so we will leave Kadiro in your hands, just in case the Safavians choose to attack here as well.”
“You’re leaving me in charge of Kadiro?” I asked, surprised by that, and certain that I’d misheard him.
“We’re leaving you here under my wife’s guardianship,” Ahmed corrected, and I felt my stomach twist. I hadn’t been expecting that. “If necessary, you will use your zahhaks to defend Kadiro.”
“Do you really expect me to permit this girl to ride zahhaks while you are away in Ahura, my husband?” Asma demanded.
“If it is necessary for the defense of the city, yes,” said Ahmed, and he held up a hand to forestall his wife’s indignant protests. “But we will ensure that she does not get any ideas into her head.” He looked at me, and the malicious smile creasing his lips made my blood run cold. “As you have said, we need more zahhaks, and I must leave two here to serve as messengers at my wife’s request, but your sister Lakshmi flies an acid zahhak. We will take her with us to help in Ahura’s defense and to make up for the messengers left behind.”
I felt like someone had suddenly pulled the earth out from under my feet. Lakshmi in Ahura? No, I couldn’t let that happen. If they took her, and got word that I’d rebelled in Kadiro, they would butcher her! And I couldn’t call off the attacks. The messages had already been sent, the men were already on the way, and with Asma in charge here in the palace, I’d never be able to get new messages out to call off the assault. It was going forward tonight whether I liked it or not.
“She is a child!” I exclaimed, turning to Karim, my desperation plain in my eyes. “Your highness, she’s so young. Please, she’s all I have!” I clung to his arm, and for once none of it was a carefully calculated act.
“Which is why she will ensure your cooperation,” said Ahmed, and the bastard looked like he was enjoying himself.
My mind was spinning frantically to come up with a solution to this. God, if they took Lakshmi, then she was as good as dead. And even if I found some way to get her back before Ahmed found out about the attack, or if I found some way to call off the attack, then I’d still have to worry about Karim being alone with her, at night, in a faraway fortress. What might he do to her? I’d seen the way he looked at her. I couldn’t forget that I’d been the same age when he had raped me. And there would be nobody there to protect her, no one at all. They would laugh and let it happen; I was sure of it.
“No.” I shook my head. “You are not taking her.”
“You think you have the authority to give me orders here?” Ahmed asked, and it was impossible to miss the hard edge to his voice, the tone that warned of more punishments to come.
I was shocked when Sikander stepped forward and said, “Princess Lakshmi is her highness’s younger sister, and thus is a princess of Nizam.”
“And you think your sultan would agree with that logic?” Ahmed scoffed. “No, he barely views that creature”—he gestured to me—“as a relation. I am certain that he would not shed a tear over the fate of some hijra child.”
I looked to Karim. “Say something. Please.”
“I’ll keep her safe, Razia,” he said, and I felt fresh hatred welling up within me. He was going to let his father use Lakshmi as a hostage?
“You can’t promise that,” I retorted. “If there’s a battle, anything can happen in the air. You know it as well as I do.”
“There’s not going to be a battle,” he assured me, his han
ds rubbing my arms gently to try to calm me down. “It’s just a show of force. Once Safavia sees the numbers we can bring to the fight, they will back down. Ahura isn’t worth it.”
I wondered how many zahhaks that was, but I knew better than to ask, and anyway, it did nothing to quell my fears about what was going to happen to Lakshmi, because the real threat wasn’t from Safavia, it was from me. When my forces attacked Kadiro, her life would be forfeit.
“Is there nothing I can say to make you reconsider, your highness?” I asked, and I was surprised when tears burst from the corners of my eyes, but I couldn’t help it. I was panic-stricken at the thought of Lakshmi in Ahura in the hands of my enemies while my attack went forward here. There would be no saving her at all.
“Don’t be swayed by false tears, my son,” Asma warned. “She just doesn’t like being brought to heel.”
“Shut up, you spiteful old hag!” I exclaimed. I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth, but I couldn’t help myself. This was Lakshmi’s life that was at stake.
“There, you see, Karim?” Asma asked. “She shows her true colors.”
“My true colors?” I growled. “You have not given me a chance here, though I have tried my best to abide by every rule.” I turned to Karim. “Your highness, I have been treated most unfairly in my time here, but I have accepted it. I will not accept this. I will not let you put my baby sister in danger for no reason except your parents’ hatred of me!”
“Guards,” Ahmed called, and a dozen men answered him, marching to surround the baradari on all sides.
“Father, that’s not necessary, I can handle this,” Karim told him.
“Then handle it, boy,” Ahmed replied.
Karim planted his hands on my shoulders. “Razia, I will keep Lakshmi safe. You need to calm down, and accept that this is the way things are. After the threat from Safavia is defeated, and we have returned, we can talk about the way you are treated here. But this wild behavior of yours is doing you no favors.”