Gifting Fire

by Alina Boyden

  “I’m here, girl!” I exclaimed, and I rushed forward and unfastened the stout lock, freeing her at last. She practically trampled me in her eagerness, pressing her whole head up against me, driving me back against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of me.

  “I’m okay,” I told her, stroking her scales. “We’re okay.”

  “We are,” Sakshi agreed as she led a somewhat less worried Ragini out of her pen by the reins. She grabbed her saddle from the wall and got to work securing it. That was a smart move. When had Sakshi become the levelheaded one in a crisis? I grabbed my own saddle and tossed it over Sultana’s back, securing it quickly and scrambling aboard. With my thunder zahhak beneath me, I could handle anything.

  I urged her forward, and she raced out of the stables into a courtyard that was suddenly silent. White smoke hung low in the air, drifting on the wind. Bodies were everywhere, some torn apart by cannons, others by zahhaks, others full of arrows. Hina and her celas were gathered together with Sanghar Soomro and his men, facing a dozen river zahhaks. I recognized Sunil Kalani sitting on the animal in the center, the one closest to Hina. He was bowing in the saddle, saying something, but he broke off as I approached on Sultana’s back.

  He looked me up and down, and while he didn’t exactly seem pleased to see me, he did seem impressed by what I’d achieved. “I was just telling her majesty that Kadiro is once again in the hands of the Zindhi people. Our army commands the town, and our allies from Registan seem to have taken the fortresses.”

  I didn’t miss his phrasing, claiming that Kadiro belonged to Zindh and not to Nizam, but I wasn’t going to debate it tonight. There was still too much left to do. Lakshmi still had to be rescued, and if we waited too long, it would be daylight before we could get to Ahura. But I couldn’t just go rushing off blindly either, not when so much still needed doing here. And anyway, Sunil had given me an idea for how I might save my little sister.

  “Is the palace secure?” I asked.

  “My men are making it so,” Sunil replied.

  “As are mine, your highness,” Sanghar added, favoring me with my title where Sunil hadn’t.

  “She’s not our princess,” Sunil grumbled.

  Sanghar shrugged. “Maybe she is and maybe she isn’t, my friend, but after everything I’ve seen tonight, one thing I do know is that she’s not someone we want to anger.”

  Hina grinned. “I’ll say.” She shook her head at me. “You’re a madwoman, you know that?”

  “Lakshmi is still in danger,” I reminded her.

  That wiped the smile from her face. She’d spent weeks with Lakshmi, and so had Nuri, the young cela who was standing with the others, holding a musket that was too big for her, but which she’d plainly spent the whole night shooting nonetheless. I was glad to see she wasn’t hurt.

  “We’ll get her back, Razia,” Hina said. “I swear it.”

  “I think I know how we might do it, but I’ll need your girls, and I’ll need as many zahhaks as I can muster. Arjun should be here as soon as the fortresses are secure. Then I’ll know how many fire zahhaks we have. And I saw Tamara’s ice zahhaks in the sky—they knocked down the messengers—but I have no idea where she is.”

  “You’ll have every Zindhi flier in Kadiro, if that’s what you need, your highness,” Hina assured me.

  “It may come to that,” I allowed, because I wasn’t sure how else I was going to get Lakshmi back.

  “We’ll get our zahhaks, then.” Hina nodded to her celas, and the sixteen of them hurried to the stables to mount up, leaving me with Sunil and Sanghar and their soldiers. I didn’t have the slightest idea where my Nizami guardsmen were now, though I supposed I could probably get a couple of Zindhis to handle the thunder zahhaks in an emergency.

  Sultana twisted her neck skyward, and I followed her emerald eye with my own, straining to see what she’d spotted. Shadows coming toward us from the sky, their white-speckled undersides leaving me in no doubt as to their identity. Evidently, Sultana wasn’t in any doubt either, because she set off at a gallop toward the far end of the courtyard where the ice zahhaks were alighting on one of the paved paths, running off their momentum with their rear legs before settling onto their wing claws.

  One of the ice zahhaks turned her massive blue beak in our direction, her glacial eyes a perfect match with those of her rider. She leapt right at us, and it would have been terribly intimidating, what with her crest of white and black feathers, and the thick black ruff at the base of her neck for warmth, resembling the mane of a lion, but I knew better than to be frightened of Natia, and so did Sultana.

  “Shall we dismount before they kill us both?” Natia’s rider asked as our zahhaks danced around each other like a pair of overeager puppies.

  “That would probably be for the best,” I agreed, unable to contain a smile in spite of everything. My heart was fluttering almost harder than it had been when I’d been fighting. That had been life or death, but I found that the pain that relationships brought was equal to the sting of any sword. I hadn’t seen Princess Tamara in seven years. I wondered what she would think of me now, knowing that I’d spent most of that time as a courtesan.

  I slid from the saddle, landing hard on the paving stones, drawing myself up to my full height, and taking a deep breath. Just half a dozen paces away, Tamara had done the same thing. She was as dashing as I remembered her. I’d idolized her growing up, and it wasn’t hard to see why. She wore her gold-trimmed green peshwaz like she was born to it, with a golden undergown that billowed out like the skirt of a lehenga, giving her a grace and a beauty that told the whole world she was a princess. But the khanjali thrust through the golden sash around her waist was proof that she was a warrior too, as were the flying goggles that now rested on her oversized fur hat, which must have been impossibly hot here in Zindh but was proof that she’d flown without pause, down from the mountains of Khevsuria, all the way here.

  She was paler than I remembered, a real Firangi, though I’d gotten so used to living in Safavia that it seemed starker now after so long away. The same was true of her red hair, a brilliant copper color, not like the subtle mahoganies I saw so often in Daryastan. Her icy blue eyes were drinking in every detail of me too, and I supposed that was only fair. I’d changed more in the last seven years than she had. Of course, I wasn’t exactly dressed like a princess in my sweat-soaked shalwar kameez, my face and hands blackened with gunpowder.

  Tamara strode forward, crossing the distance separating us so quickly that it took me a little by surprise. I didn’t know what she was doing, not until she wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly to her. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined you would be. It’s no wonder you’re having to use cannons to fight off your suitors.”

  I hugged her back, overjoyed that she didn’t hate me for being what I was. “I thought you would come if I asked, but I wasn’t sure . . .”

  “Of course we came,” she replied, her fingers tensing against my back. “Safavia isn’t close, but it’s not the other side of the world. We heard everything through Shah Ismail’s network of spies, and Haider and I spoke of trying to find some way to help you. Then your letters arrived, and we jumped at the chance.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “If you hadn’t come . . .”

  “You’d have found some other way to free yourself, I suspect,” she said, patting my cheek. “But we did come. And we’re here for whatever you need.”

  “Haider too?” I asked, glancing around, not seeing any sign of him.

  “He’s on his way. I expect he’ll arrive shortly.” She gestured back to the other Khevsurian woman riding an ice zahhak. “Do you remember my bodyguard, Ketevani?”

  “Yes, of course.” I nodded to the older woman, a bit embarrassed at having shown so much emotion. I was supposed to be a provincial ruler, not a child. “Thank you for your assistance. As soon as matters with Ma
hisagar are settled, I’ll see to it that you are suitably rewarded for your efforts.”

  The Khevsurian woman wrinkled her pale nose and gave a toss of her head. “Child,” she said, in Court Safavian, “I protected you when you were no taller than a newly hatched zahhak. You think I need rewards now?”

  “You deserve them, Ketevani,” I told her, remembering how much nicer she’d been to me than Sikander, though I supposed even that old man had now shown he could come around eventually. “For then and for today.”

  “Well, let’s worry about that once Karim and his father are dead,” Tamara suggested, with such fervor in her voice that I arched an eyebrow in her direction. “It wasn’t just your letter, Razia. We heard about it soon after it happened. It was court gossip. Haider was furious, wanted to fly out to Nizam then and there, but it was impossible, of course. His father wasn’t going to let him meddle with the crown prince of Nizam. But now we have a chance to set things right, and that’s what we’re here to do.” She bit her lip. “We never should have let you leave Tavrezh.”

  “That wasn’t your decision,” I reminded her. God knew I hadn’t wanted to leave either.

  “All the same, we’re here now.” She put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “And you’re going to roast in that hat,” Sakshi warned, having ridden over on Ragini’s back. Her Court Safavian was a bit rusty, as she’d only really used it during our poetry recital lessons, but I thought it was passable for a girl who had been born on a farm.

  “And who might this be?” Tamara asked.

  “Sakshi is my elder sister,” I told her. “From the dera in Bikampur. She’s saved my life more than once, and she’s the finest musician you’ll ever meet.”

  Tamara offered Sakshi the smile that had won me over so thoroughly in my time in the Safavian court in Tavrezh. “If she’s your little sister too, then we must be family.”

  “In that case, welcome to our home, sister,” Sakshi replied. “I’d offer you tea and snacks, but our youngest sister is being held hostage in Ahura, and it will be up to us to rescue her.”

  Tamara’s eyes widened, and she looked to me for confirmation. “This is true?”

  “It is,” I said.

  She sighed and shook her head. “Razia, there’s a lot of zahhaks in Ahura. Haider said there were at least twenty, maybe more.”

  I frowned. Twenty was more than I’d expected, but it changed nothing. I had to get Lakshmi back. I opened my mouth to say as much, but just then I caught sight of eight zahhaks fluttering to the ground about fifty paces away—six fire and two thunder. I recognized the two zahhaks in the lead at once. The thunder zahhak was Roshanak, which meant that the tall, broad-shouldered prince riding in her saddle was Haider. But the fire zahhak beside her was Padmini. I’d have known that proud face anywhere.

  I ran to them, heedless of how tired I already was, how shattered my body felt from the falls and the fighting. The only thing that mattered was that Arjun was here.

  CHAPTER 26

  Arjun was just sliding down from the saddle when I hit him like a cannonball, knocking him back a pace as I threw my arms against his neck and pressed my body close to his.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, my prince!” I gasped out, but those were the only words I could think to say, because the emotions I was feeling were like a pure physical need that defied the usual descriptors. To say that I’d missed him would have elided the disgust at Karim’s caresses, the despair I’d felt each night wondering if I’d ever see Arjun again. But now he was here. Whatever else happened, I wouldn’t lose him too.

  Arjun’s strong arms wrapped me up so tightly that they pulled my feet free of the ground. He pressed his forehead against mine so hard it hurt. “I’m here,” he whispered, as if to assure himself of that fact as much as me. “I’m here. And I’m never leaving you again.” He let go of my body to take my cheeks in his hands, tilting my face up so that we were staring right into each other’s eyes. “I promise.”

  He leaned in and kissed me then, our lips meeting with an urgent pressure in spite of the hundreds of people gathered around us. A few of the men chuckled, but their laughter reminded me that Arjun didn’t know what was coming next.

  I pulled away suddenly, and the wounded look that brought to his face tugged on my heartstrings. I placed my hand on his cheek, taking comfort from its warmth, from the roughness of his whiskers scratching my palm. “My prince, this isn’t over yet. Karim has Lakshmi in Ahura.”

  I expected to see shock or worry flicker across his face, but instead his eyes narrowed into an expression of hot rage. “Then we go to Ahura, and we get her back.”

  His determination lit a fire in my heart. This was what I’d been missing these last few weeks—a man who was truly my partner in all things, who shared my loves and my fears, my joys and my sorrows—and most importantly, my battles.

  “Getting into Ahura isn’t going to be easy,” a man’s voice warned, from just a pace or two to my right.

  My eyes had only been for Arjun, but now I looked and saw a grown man who had, until that moment, still been a lanky boy in my mind’s eye. Hard muscle had filled out arms and legs that had once been all pointy knees and elbows. His jaw had grown strong and square, and his smooth cheeks were now covered in thick copper whiskers, the color a vibrant red that bordered on orange, like an old maulvi who used henna to dye his hair and beard. Prince Haider of Safavia had his father’s sharp, dark eyes, and much of that man’s strength and bearing. If I hadn’t known that he’d come all this way for me, I’d have been worried that he’d changed in his mind and his heart as much as in his body.

  “Your highness,” I said, keenly aware that I must have looked like some beggar girl off the streets in my frayed and soiled shalwar kameez, with my dirty face and sweat-stained hair, “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for coming to me in my time of need.”

  Haider crushed me against the hard cobalt scales of his zahhak armor, the embrace momentarily startling me into silence. “I’d never have left my little sister with a man like Karim.”

  “Then you know why I must go to Ahura,” I replied. “Lakshmi is eleven. She’s the same age I was when . . .” My voice caught in my throat as fear and rage rose up to close off my windpipe. The thought of Karim touching her . . . I just couldn’t bear it. It made me squeeze my fists with an impotent rage that needed to find an outlet or I thought I might explode.

  “We’ll get her,” Arjun assured me, his warm hand landing on my shoulder. The strength I felt in his fingers helped me to relax a little. With Arjun here, and Haider, and Tamara, and Hina, and Saskshi too, we would be able to save her.

  “Then we should move,” I said. “There’s not much time. It’s an eight-hour flight to Ahura, and if we don’t leave now, then we won’t make it before sunrise, I don’t think.”

  “With thunder zahhaks, flying flat-out, we can make it in six,” Haider corrected. “I can lead you there. Ahura was a Safavian island until recently, after all.”

  “Then lead on, your highness,” I replied, nodding to Roshanak, the thunder zahhak who had been staring at me the whole time, waiting for me to pet her, no doubt wondering why I was spending so much of my time lavishing my attention on human men.

  I was surprised when Haider shook his head. “We can’t just go flying in there. I left it earlier today, having watched to see what forces Ahmed Shah could bring to bear, and the news isn’t good. He has at least a dozen fire zahhaks from Jesera in addition to the dozen or so acid zahhaks.”

  “Twenty-four?” Tamara gasped, having stood by listening this whole time. “There’s no way we could defeat so many, Razia, and he would chase after you.”

  “If we can’t defeat them, then we’re all dead,” Sakshi reminded her. “Razia killed Karim’s mother with a cannon. We captured their fortresses. They won’t let this stand. Lakshmi will be execut
ed and Sikander too, and then we’ll all be next. We have no choice but to fight, whatever the odds.”

  Hina sighed, having stood by with her Zindhi comrades, listening to all this. “If only our river zahhaks had breath like a thunder zahhak or a fire zahhak, we’d have them outnumbered.”

  “Maybe we can,” I said, the plan having formed in my mind the moment I saw Sunil Kalani shooting arrows at the Mahisagari guardsmen from his animal’s back.

  “What do you mean?” Hina asked.

  “It’s nonsense,” Sunil Kalani muttered. “She’s not a sorceress.”

  “It’s not nonsense!” boomed a deep voice standing near the fire zahhaks. We all looked over to see Udai Agnivansha, maharaja of Bikampur, striding toward us. “It means the girl has a plan, fool! And when Razia Khanum has a plan, you listen.”

  My cheeks burned, but I couldn’t suppress a smile all the same, my heart swelling with pride. I bowed my head. “Thank you for coming to me in my time of need, your majesty.”

  “You’re family,” he replied, putting a big, weather-beaten hand on my shoulder. “Now, what’s this plan of yours to gift a fire zahhak’s breath to a river zahhak?”

  “It’s right there, your majesty,” I replied, nodding to one of the swivel guns that was leaning up against a tree, its barrel cast to resemble the neck and head of a fire zahhak, its beak yawning wide to spew flames. “Those swivel guns can be reloaded from the breech, they weigh less than Lakshmi or Nuri, and Hina says that a river zahhak can fly with a small passenger. So, instead of passengers, what if we put those cannons on the fronts of the river zahhaks’ saddles?”

  Hina’s hazel eyes went wide with wonder. “That might work . . .”

  But Sunil Kalani shook his head. “You’d never hit anything with it, your majesty. Combat in the air happens too quickly. We’ve tried it with our rifles for years. We know it doesn’t work.”

  “But the cannon is different, Sunil,” Hina told him. “It shoots a spray of musket balls, a pattern the size of a man. You don’t have to aim exactly—if you just point it in the right direction, a whole swath of sky will be filled with a pound of lead.”