Gifting Fire

by Alina Boyden

  I twisted in my seat to see how Hina was getting on. Sakina’s takeoff run was longer than usual, but her bigger wings and her lighter body helped to compensate for the weight of the cannon, and I was surprised how easily she got herself into the air. She looked less buoyant than usual, and I knew that to some degree her performance would be impaired by the weight and drag of the gun and its breechblocks, but she was still an exquisitely maneuverable animal, thanks to that forked tail of hers and those pointed wings, which were broader than my Sultana’s, giving them even more lift.

  I leveled off and let Hina catch up, taking a position directly behind me. I knew this was a test of an idea, that I wasn’t in any real danger, but still my heart skipped a beat when that cannon lowered into position, the muzzle pointed right at my back, the match cord glowing bright yellow thanks to the force of the slipstream blowing on it and making it even hotter than it would have been otherwise. It was plain Sultana was nervous too, because she kept sneaking glances behind her at Hina, and at me. She made a chittering noise, which I knew from long experience was her way of saying, “Hey! Are you going to do something about that?”

  “It’s all right, girl, it’s just a test,” I told her. I picked up my trumpet from the saddle and blasted out a simple note, since I wasn’t sure if Hina knew the proper calls for Nizami fliers.

  She responded with two blasts on her own trumpet to let me know that she was ready.

  “All right,” I muttered. “Here goes nothing.” I took up the bedsheet, holding it by one corner of the fabric, letting the rest of it snap in the breeze like an enormous flag billowing up behind us. Once I was sure it would catch enough air to make for a reasonable target, I let it go and jerked hard left and down, leaning my body in that direction, telling Sultana to dive and turn with everything she had.

  Her cobalt neck scales flared wide like the hood of a cobra as her wings rolled and her tail feathers lifted up. A weight settled upon my neck and shoulders, crushing down on my spine, forcing the blood from my eyes as we dropped into a tight, spiraling dive. All the while, I looked up, keeping my eyes on the cloth, which was fluttering in the breeze, spread wide, seeming to hover in space.

  The boom of the cannon wasn’t nearly as deafening in the open air as it had been in the confines of the palace corridors, but the smoke and fire billowing out of the muzzle of the cannon resembled the real flames of a fire zahhak to some degree, and it was close enough to Sakina’s head that in the darkness, it almost looked to my eyes like the zahhak had been shooting the fire from her own mouth.

  The cloth suddenly bunched up, as if it had a string tied to it and someone had jerked hard on it. With less surface area, it began to fall a bit faster, though it was still quite slow, and it was easy enough to keep below it.

  Evidently, Hina had the same thought, because she had at once pitched up into a climbing turn, all the while yanking the smoking breechblock from the back of the cannon, hanging it on one of the saddle hooks, and slamming a second home. She lowered the cannon just as she reached the apex of her climb, Sakina describing a diagonal loop through the sky that put her nose right back on the cloth, but coming from the opposite direction.

  The cannon barked a second time, and the bunched-up cloth shuddered and twisted and started to fall even faster, but Hina wasn’t done yet. She jerked the breechblock free as Sakina pitched up into yet another diagonal loop. This time, though, the cloth was falling fast enough that by the time Hina got the cannon ready again, they were pointing almost straight down at the palace courtyard, and rather than risk shooting and hitting our comrades accidentally, she ordered Sakina to tuck in her wings, and they dove so swiftly that Hina was able to reach out and snatch the cloth out of the air an instant before Sakina snapped her wings wide once more, pulling up sharply to save them from plowing into the paving stones at two hundred miles per hour.

  My heart was thumping away in my chest. Hina was whooping from the back of her zahhak. Far below us, hundreds of Zindhi men and women were cheering. There could be no doubt at all. It worked. Now we just had to hope that they could get the saddles ready in time to stand against Ahmed Shah and his zahhaks, and I had to hope that there was enough darkness left to save my baby sister.

  CHAPTER 27

  Flying over the ocean at night requires nerves of steel. Even with a mostly full moon and a cloudless sky, the water beneath me was pitch black. We had long since lost sight of the coast. If not for Haider’s assurance that he could lead us to Ahura without getting us lost over the ocean, I never would have taken such a risk as flying directly. But this saved us at least two hours, and we were short on time as it was. I prayed to God it would be enough.

  Behind me, Padmini was struggling to keep up, using Sultana’s wake to help give her the lift she needed to stay aloft. Her double saddle had been cut in half, with the front put in the back so that it faced in the opposite direction, allowing the flier and the gunner to share the same high backrest. One of the bronze cannons was mounted directly in front of the rear-facing seat, which also had extra breechblocks hanging from hooks, just like Sakina’s saddle had. The same modification had been made on the saddles of the rest of the Registani fire zahhaks, and four of the six of them carried the extra weight of men in their new rear gunner seats. They were keeping close formation to reduce the strain of flying at such an unnaturally high speed.

  To my left and right were five thunder zahhaks, ridden by Haider and his wingman, my sister Sakshi, and my two Nizami guardsmen, who had survived the battle because Asma had imprisoned them in an out-of-the-way place. But they were free now and eager to fly against the Mahisagaris for the sake of honor. And just off their wings were Tamara and Ketevani riding on their ice zahhaks, which had an easier time keeping up with thunder zahhaks than the Registani fire zahhaks did.

  Fourteen zahhaks was quite the aerial armada, but if Haider’s reports were accurate, we’d still be badly outnumbered when the time came to fight. I’d given orders to my Zindhi fliers to meet us on the coast of Safavia due north of Ahura, where there were high cliffs that would be easy to spot from the air. But I hadn’t had time to wait for them to outfit all of their thirty-two zahhaks with cannons. The men and women had been working rapidly, at least half a dozen working on each saddle to make the process go faster, but it took time that Lakshmi simply didn’t have. If we were lucky, they would get to the coast in time to help us. If we weren’t . . . well, then I was sure I would think of something.

  The plan was simple. While the other zahhaks provided high cover to keep the Mahisagaris from pursuing us, Arjun, Udai, and I would land our zahhaks on top of the fortress, which Haider had assured me was built like a single giant tower, in the Firangi style. We’d probably have to kill a few guards, but Sultana and Padmini could do that quickly and quietly enough if we took them by surprise. Then I would tie off a rope to the battlements, rappel down to Lakshmi’s window, get inside, wake her up, and she would climb with me while Sikander used the rope. They would get in the gunner positions in the saddles, and we would all fly together north toward Safavia to rendezvous with the river zahhaks from Kadiro.

  It was a strong plan, I thought. If Sikander marked the window like I’d ordered him to do, then I would know just where to go. And with the rope speeding things along, I thought we could probably be in and out of the fortress in less than ten minutes. If we were lucky, Karim and Ahmed wouldn’t even realize what we’d done until morning, and by then we would be long gone, on our way back to Kadiro. Then we could have a battle at our leisure, maybe even sending a message to my father for his support. If it was a choice between joining Mahisagar against me, or joining me against them, I thought he would pick me. At least I prayed that he would.

  But that was putting the cart before the horse. I had to get Lakshmi out. That was the main thing. I just hoped that I wasn’t too late, that Karim hadn’t hurt her already. I thought Sikander could keep her safe, but he was one man, an
d he’d be surrounded by loyal Mahisagari men. If Karim wanted to hurt Lakshmi, he could, and there wasn’t much Sikander could do to stop it. That thought, more than anything, had me keeping a white-knuckle grip on Sultana’s reins as we soared over miles and miles of perfect darkness.

  “Just like old times, eh?” Haider asked me as he glanced across the gulf between us, his voice dim from the roar of the slipstream, but audible nonetheless. It was remarkable how well you could hear another person in the air when there were no walls or trees to block the sound.

  “Oh? I don’t seem to recall us assaulting any fortresses when we were children, your highness,” I replied.

  “You don’t remember our assault on Zahedan?” He sounded surprised, and not a little wounded at that.

  “That was a game, your highness,” I reminded him, because I did remember.

  “It was a competition, and we won,” he replied. “You had a head for strategy even then.”

  “Is that why you picked me for your team when nobody else would?” I asked.

  “One of the reasons,” he allowed. “You were also the best zahhak flier I’d ever seen. The other boys wouldn’t admit that, because they didn’t want to believe that a girl could do anything they couldn’t, and you acted like a girl, even when we were in public.”

  I shrugged. “Couldn’t be helped.”

  “No,” he agreed, “it couldn’t. But my point is that your little sister is in good hands with you planning her rescue. If I were in need of rescuing, I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d rather have coming to my aid.”

  That brought a warm glow to my heart in spite of all the uncertainty. “If you ever do need me, Haider, I’ll be there for you, as you have always been for me.”

  “I know. You think I came here to help you? This is an investment in my future.” He flashed me a mischievous grin, and I rolled my eyes in response, but it felt good for somebody to tell a joke, because I thought my chest was going to explode from the fear I was feeling, not knowing what had become of Lakshmi. I would have clutched at anything to take my mind off of that, even if it was only for an instant.

  An instant was all the reprieve I got, because a moment later I spotted four orange lights glowing on the horizon, and their number increased steadily with each passing second, until they resolved into the windows of a tall tower of black volcanic stone, the white lime mortar providing an outline to what would have otherwise been nothing more than an inky shadow illuminated by torchlight.

  I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. This was it. I had to find the ajrak cloth waving from one of those windows, and then I had to get to Lakshmi. Everything depended on it. I glanced to Haider. “You’ll keep us covered?”

  “No zahhak will get within a mile of your little sister, you have my word on that, Razia.”

  I nodded, and after that fear robbed me of my voice. It was everything I could do to steer Sultana straight at the tower, the pressure of my hips in my seat urging her onward with every last ounce of speed. I was frantically scanning the windows for some sign of an ajrak cloth. It should have been bright enough for me to spot, and it was long, it would be waving in the sea breeze. Why couldn’t I see it?

  A thought occurred to me then that made my insides churn. What if Sikander hadn’t been able to do it? What if he’d been imprisoned, or killed? Or what if the cloth had been spotted by the Mahisagaris, and they’d punished them for it? What if I was already too late to save Lakshmi from the fate I had suffered at Karim’s hands six years before?

  “Razia!” Haider called. He was pointing ahead of him. “Second light down from the top on the left!”

  My eyes snapped to the spot he’d named and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. There it was, an ajrak cloth floating in the breeze. I wasn’t too late. Sikander had done as I’d asked. Lakshmi was in that room, and I was going to get her out of it no matter what.

  I leaned low to let Sultana fly that much faster, snapping the reins, letting her know that if there had ever been a time in her life to fly swiftly, this was it. Her wings beat a blur on either side of me, and we rocketed past Roshanak, diving toward the top of the tower. I really should have done a proper reconnaissance, should have waited to count the guards, but I had plenty of time to spot them up there if there were any. I thought most of them would be on the ramparts lower down.

  We were screaming out of the sky at such a tremendous speed that without my flying goggles, I’d have been blinded by the wind tearing past me. As it was, I was sure that we’d be invisible to whatever sentries the Mahisagaris had placed around the fortress. The first warning they got of our arrival would be a zahhak slamming into them, crushing them into paste.

  As it happened, there were two men on the roof of the fortress, patrolling lazily, each man staying on the opposite side of the top of the square tower from the other. I aimed for the man nearest to me, lining him up so that Sultana could take his head off and keep flying directly into the second man. She knew what I wanted. Her maw gaped, and the next thing I knew there was a sharp impact, and blood spurted past me, and then there was a second, harder impact, and we were soaring skyward, half of a man hanging from Sultana’s tightly closed mouth.

  We wheeled back toward the tower and landed atop it at about the same moment that Padmini came fluttering down with Arjun, and Udai joined him with his zahhak a second later. Sultana spit out the half-eaten Mahisagari guardsman, covered in blood and slime, and then looked back at me, half grinning, her emerald eyes inquiring as to whether or not she’d done a good job.

  “You’re the best girl,” I told her, giving her pats on her neck, but only for a moment before my worries for Lakshmi consumed me again. I slid out of the saddle, taking the rope I’d brought with me. I rushed to the ramparts, making sure that I picked the right spot, directly above the window with the ajrak dupatta hanging from it, and then I set about tying the rope off on one of the tall merlons of black volcanic stone, wrapping it tightly and knotting it securely. Sikander’s life would depend on this rope, and maybe mine and Lakshmi’s too. It couldn’t fail.

  When I was finished, I moved to throw myself over the side of the wall and rappel down to get my sister, but Arjun stopped me with strong arms around my waist. He leaned in close, kissed me on the cheek, and whispered, “I’ll be right here waiting. You get your sister. I love you.”

  “I love you too, my prince,” I replied, and I kissed him back, pressing my lips to his for a single moment before rushing over the wall to get Lakshmi back. Until she was safe, I couldn’t rest, couldn’t focus on anything else. The thought that she was hurt, that Karim had raped her or beaten her or killed her, was so overwhelming that it consumed every ounce of my attention.

  I had tied the rope off so that it had two ends dangling free, reaching just below Lakshmi’s window. I now wrapped them around myself, forming a makeshift seat for my hips, holding the extra rope in my left hand, letting my right hand hold the part attached to the stonework. And then I sat down over the edge of the wall, kicked off, and started moving down as quickly as I could without slicing through my own legs with the burning friction of the rope.

  It took no time at all to get to Lakshmi’s window, since it was so close to the top of the tower, but I hung above it for a moment and listened carefully. There was a chance that my plan had been betrayed, that enemies might be lurking inside. I didn’t want to risk getting killed now; then Lakshmi really would have no hope left at all.

  What I heard broke my heart. Crying. She was sniffling and crying. Had Karim hurt her? I was going to kill the bastard!

  I let loose the rope, unwinding it from my legs, holding on with both hands, and then I lowered myself, swinging at the same time, bursting feet-first through the window, landing easily on the stone floor in the middle of a small bedchamber, my katars whisking from their scabbards. I pointed my bladed fists at the first man I saw, and was startled to find Sikander sitti
ng beside Viputeshwar, Sultan Ahmed’s chamberlain, in tall-backed chairs, the pair of them sobbing like little girls. Or at least they had been, until I had burst in on them. Now they were rushing to stand and draw their swords.

  “Sikander?” I gasped.

  “Your highness!” he exclaimed, forgetting all about his sword as he came forward and embraced me tightly. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”

  I couldn’t hug him back because I was holding my katars, but I was too confused to embrace him anyway. “Have you been crying?”

  “What?” He let me go and frantically wiped at his face. “I . . .”

  “It’s my doing, your highness,” said Viputeshwar, though his eyes were red and puffy and he had tracks of tears running down his dark, wrinkled cheeks and into his white beard. “Sikander and I were having a talk about you.”

  “About me?” I frowned, wondering what he meant by that, and wondering what he was doing here in Lakshmi’s bedchamber in Ahura, but none of that really mattered. What mattered was getting her out before someone noticed us. I shook my head. “Well, whatever conversation you were having, it’s over now. We’re leaving, and if you try to stop us, I’ll kill you.”

  “Your highness!” Sikander exclaimed, suddenly horrified at the thought of killing a man. I wondered what had happened to the man, if perhaps he was an impostor.

  Viputeshwar held up a hand for calm. “Sikander was telling me what Karim did to you six years ago. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  “Is that your way of saying that you’re with us?” I asked.

  “If you’ll have me, your highness,” he replied, bowing deeply from the waist.

  “Once Karim and Ahmed have joined Lady Asma in the grave, we’ll talk about it,” I assured him.