What happened to my hand? Zardi asked herself even as her joy at getting the spelltrap chased the question out of her head.
The queen gave an awful scream of rage and opened her mouth wider than any human ever could to reveal two fangs. She surged toward Zardi’s throat.
Zardi’s fingers found the Windrose in her pocket. She brought it out, searing the queen’s cheek.
The smoke-raw smell of burning flesh filled Zardi’s nostrils, and the queen gave a howl of pain, instinctively putting her hands to her face. Without hold, the queen plummeted downward with a scream.
Relief washed over Zardi, but almost instantly a weight yanked at her legs. She looked down. The queen had Zardi’s ankle. She grinned evilly, the burn on her face puckered and weeping, as she slowly pulled her way up.
35
The Graveyard
Zardi kicked out, her arms trembling from the effort of holding onto the glider’s bar, but still the queen dragged her way up Zardi’s body. The flying machine plunged toward the ground.
She’s going to kill us both.
As she tore through the sky, Zardi caught a glimpse of the massive trees with their webbed canopy. The same tree where the Rocs made their nests.
The Rocs. They must be close by.
Desperately, she let out high-pitched squawks begging for help.
The trees juddered and a torrent of oily color surged up from the canopy. Soon the beat of the mighty wings was all around them. Zardi’s head was filled with the Rocs’ angry voices as they registered that their enemy was in their midst. The birds surrounded the flying machine, pecking furiously at the queen, slashing at any exposed flesh with their crimson beaks and golden talons. The machine continued to drop. Zardi’s arms thrummed with pain, her fingers began to slip…
Then the weight was gone.
Zardi looked down. All she could see was the black “O” the queen made with her mouth as she fell toward the ground. Then she was obscured, hidden by the multitude of Rocs diving after her.
Zardi gave a shuddering sigh.
“Thank you,” she screeched out in the Rocs’ language, her voice loud and full with joy.
Zardi tugged the harness over her body again and angled herself so she caught the edge of the wind. With the Windrose still in her hand, she thought of a boy with silver hair and violet eyes. An answering gust of wind announced itself, guiding her northward, and she followed it. She placed the object in her pocket.
“Wait,” a voice called from behind her.
She turned her head to see Roco approaching.
“You saved me again,” Zardi said as the young bird reached her side. “You all did.”
The young bird chirruped in a pleased-sounding way. “We’re happy to help. That queen has killed far too many of our number.” He chirruped again. “Where are you going now?”
“To my friends.” Zardi quickly explained the danger the crew of the Falcon were in and the abandoned tunnel that Sinbad had found. “I need to get the spelltrap to Khalila.”
“I’ll help,” Roco said.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m coming,” Roco screeched out stubbornly.
They followed the guiding wind, the rising sun caressing all corners of the island. From her position, Zardi could see an emerald valley with a crystal-clear lake that reflected the sky: clouds, a Roc, and a girl gliding through the air. It was almost impossible to believe that so much pain and hurt existed in this place. But Zardi believed it. She’d seen it, and understood far more than she wished why this place was called Desolation Island. On top of a tall hill, she suddenly spotted the brass rider’s horse. It stood absolutely still and Zardi wondered if it had frozen in place, but then it tossed its head and Zardi heard its lonely whinny echoing across the valley.
Lakes, waterfalls, and green hills soon gave way to a mountain range and then sand dunes. Down below, Zardi could see the volcano that had once been Khalila’s hated prison and she thought instantly of her sister held prisoner in a watchtower in Taraket. Today is the day of the Hunt. Zardi let the thought creep into her head. She had refused to think about the Hunt until now, until there was at least a chance of saving her sister. She touched the spelltrap that hung around her neck. You are the last hope. Khalila is the only one who can save Zubeyda now—but she’ll need her magic back first.
The guiding wind suddenly vanished as the glider stopped directly over Khalila’s old prison, and the absence of it was as piercing as a falcon’s cry in her head.
Figures, small as ants, were running through a canyon leading away from the volcano. Dark wriggling lines pursued them.
Snakes.
Zardi tipped the glider and hurtled downward with Roco at her side.
Suddenly, the people below didn’t look like ants anymore. They looked like her friends. Tariq and Musty, Zain, Mo and Ali, Mirzani and Nadeem, Sinbad and Rhidan.
Her eyes searched for Khalila, and she found the djinni at the center of the group of sailors running from the snakes that poured from the large hole in the canyon wall, Satyan leading the charge.
“I don’t think the abandoned exit is abandoned anymore,” Roco said as they hovered above the hunters and the prey.
“No, it isn’t. We’ve got to stop those snakes.”
Roco gave a chirrup of understanding. He soared downward, picked up one of the canyon’s large boulders, and dropped it on top of two large ivory snakes. Not pausing, he plucked up another large boulder and crushed an azure snake and its orange companion.
But it was not enough. A hoard of snakes had overtaken the fleeing prisoners, cornering them so that their backs were against the rocky wall of the canyon.
Zardi could see that Rhidan was using her bow and arrow to deadly effect. Sinbad parried the fangs of one snake with his sword, the rusty blade a bloody blur in his hand, while Nadeem, Musty, Ali, and Mo stabbed forward with their sharpened sticks. There was a satisfying crack as Zain and Tariq lashed out with mallets, knocking back the heads of any snakes that came too close.
Zardi was parched, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Sinbad and his crew were fighting bravely, but wave after wave of snakes attacked them, and their defense couldn’t hold much longer. Knowing that surprise was her only weapon, she angled her glider at the cluster of snakes swarming her friends.
Collapsing the wings, Zardi landed hard, scattering the serpents like grain. The ground punched the air from her but she managed to get to her feet.
A few steps away, by the canyon wall, she could see Rhidan, Khalila, Sinbad, and the others. Smiles of relief split their faces as their eyes fell on the spelltrap that hung from the belt around her neck.
The sound of hissing suddenly swelled up behind her. She turned. The scattered snakes were now quickly reorganizing themselves.
Zardi ran to give the queen’s belt to Khalila. The djinni instantly unclipped the spelltrap and tried to find a way to open it. The Queen of the Serpent’s belt fell to the ground, its vial of plague discarded.
“I can’t see how I get the spelltrap to release my magic,” the djinni screamed in frustration.
Sinbad turned to his men as Zardi joined them. “Khalila needs more time and we’re going to give it to her. We’ll hold this line until she releases her magic.” He turned to the djinni. “You get behind us and open that thing.”
Khalila frantically began to smash the spelltrap against a rock.
The crew of the Falcon formed a line and braced themselves, their odd assortment of weapons at the ready as the snakes surged forward, with Satyan at the fore.
“Welcome back,” Rhidan said. “I knew you’d do it.”
Despite the charging snakes, Zardi felt a warmth gather in her chest. He’d always had faith in her. “I just hope Khalila opens the spelltrap soon,” she replied. Rhidan held out her bow and arrows but Zardi shook her head and took the Windrose from her pocket.
“This will be my weapon,” she said, feeling its heat beneath her fingertips as sh
e slipped in between Rhidan and Nadeem.
The snakes threw themselves at the line but Zardi and her friends worked as one, burning, shooting, cutting, and thrusting. Beating back wave after wave.
From farther up the line, there was a scream of grief, and Zardi turned to see Ali’s lifeless figure being ingested in one gulp by an ivory snake. Zardi pushed down her own cry of horror, knowing that if she screamed she might not stop. Sinbad had to hold Mo back as the twin tried to throw himself into the pit of snakes.
They continued to fight, but sorrow and weariness hung all around them, weighing down their arms and their hearts. The serpents seemed to sense their despair and pushed forward even harder. Zardi felt as if the crew’s defense would buckle at any moment under the onslaught.
A shadow covered them, and Zardi looked up to see Roco above. He tore a boulder from the side of the canyon and dropped it on the attacking snakes. For a moment, the aerial attack dispersed the snakes once again.
“How are we doing with that spelltrap?” Sinbad hollered, his face streaked with blood and slippery innards.
“I’ve almost cracked it open,” Khalila gasped out as she smashed the thick glass orb against the rock again.
The snakes pressed forward once more. Zardi hit out with the Windrose, the object burning its way through scaled flesh, but she could feel herself tiring. A gap widened in their defense, and Satyan did not pause. He surged toward Khalila.
“No!” Zardi sprang forward to protect the djinni, but Nadeem was faster. He dived in front of Khalila, pushing his stick upward as the snake launched himself at the djinni. The shaft pierced the scaly skin of Satyan’s belly and lodged there. But even as Zardi saw the snake’s eyes cloud with death, Satyan pitched forward and sunk his fangs into Nadeem’s neck.
With a whimper Nadeem let go of the stick, and the snake slumped to the ground, unmoving. The boy swayed on his feet. Zardi scrambled to his side, helping him to the ground. The puncture wounds in Nadeem’s neck pumped out blood in a torrent. She put her fingers to the injury. His skin felt slippery, and the air around them smelled of iron. She pressed down hard, but blood still seeped through her fingers.
“I wanted to do the right thing just for once,” he gasped out, his lips pale. “To be a hero, not a coward.” He was blinking fast, his eyelids beating like a butterfly’s wings. “Do you remember when you called me a coward on the shores of the Tigress? Even then, even before I knew you were a girl, that hurt me more than made sense.”
“Nadeem, I’m sorry. You’re not a coward. You’re a hero and heroes fight,” Zardi sobbed out. “You can’t give up.”
Nadeem opened his mouth to say something, but his body bucked, once, twice, and then he was still beneath her hand. His eyes were wide and staring.
Gently, as if she were handling a piece of precious porcelain from Mandar, Zardi lay Nadeem flat on the ground and closed his eyes. Her heart ached for the misunderstood boy who would never grow up to be anything else but that.
On the fringes of her vision there was a flash of red light. Through the crystal of her tears, Zardi looked over to see Khalila holding the two jagged halves of the spelltrap in her hand. Red light was pumping out of it and streaming into the djinni, who gave a cry of ecstasy.
“Finish them,” Rhidan yelled. “I wish it. I wish it right now.”
The red light cut off, and Khalila clasped her hands together and muttered an incantation. Her hands glowed like embers once again. She held her palms out toward the serpents and a pulse hit every single one of them, propelling the snakes backward, flipping them through the air. They slammed against the base of the volcano, slid to the ground, and lay quite still.
36
The Hunt
“This is not the time for a tour of the island, Khalila. What are we doing here?” Zardi demanded as the two of them stopped beside a large lake. “You promised that you would help me save my sister. So help me before it’s too late.” Her heart felt as if someone were clenching it in a fist as she said the words. She wished that Rhidan was with her, but he was with the rest of the crew back at camp.
“There is still time, but not much,” Khalila replied. “But first I need to explain something to you.”
Zardi ground her teeth in frustration. The memories of Nadeem’s blood under her fingertips and the sound of Mo’s wails as his twin brother was killed were fresh in her mind, building up to form a throbbing pain behind her eyes. “Explain what?”
“You extended charity to me,” the djinni said softly. “You risked your life to get the spelltrap and give me back my powers.” Khalila looked uncomfortable. “Djinnis do not believe in owing favors. So I will give you what you want but then the debt is cleared, understood?”
Zardi’s stomach lurched. “You’re really going to save Zubeyda?”
The djinni nodded. “And we’ll stop Shahryār. I think that is far overdue.”
“But djinnis can’t kill, Sula told me that.”
“Don’t let that concern you. Make your wish.”
“I wish you to save Zubeyda.” Zardi said the words quickly before the djinni could change her mind. “Stop the sultan.” She shuddered with anticipation as she said the last words.
The djinni clasped her hands and they began to glow with red fire. She murmured an incantation under her breath, and a red pulse flew from her palms and hit the surface of the lake, throwing up pillars of steam.
Through the vapor Zardi could see a cluster of trees, their branches heavy with oranges. A veiled girl in white stumbled through the trunks. The familiarity of the scene stole Zardi’s breath. She’d seen this image on Sula’s table—remembered how the fleeing figure had turned and it had been her own face looking out at her.
“I don’t understand,” Zardi said to the djinni.
“That is Zubeyda. The Hunt has begun,” Khalila explained. “The sultan is not far behind. Don’t worry, we’re going to save her. Fear not, you won’t be alone.”
A wave of vapor rolled off the lake and surrounded Zardi, blinding her. When she could see again, she was among a cluster of trees in the sultan’s palace grounds.
“Zardi?” The whispered word echoed faintly in her mind.
Zardi winced and put a hand to her temple as she felt Zubeyda’s consciousness bump up uncomfortably against hers. Somehow she and Zubeyda were sharing the same space. Zardi could sense her sister’s relief, but there was also terror and confusion.
Holding up her palms, Zardi saw the scars of hard work that crisscrossed their surface and knew for sure that this was her body. She looked down at herself. She was dressed in white and could feel the softness of the veil covering her hair. Within the pocket of her dress, the warmth of the Windrose touched her thigh. Amazingly, Khalila’s magic had transported the Windrose to this place as well.
“What are you doing here?” Zubeyda’s voice had become a bit stronger.
“I’m here to save you,” Zardi replied, saying the words in her head rather than out loud.
“But how can we both be here at the same time?”
“Zub, I—”
The sound of snapping branches came from deep in the copse of trees, and Zardi turned. The thick foliage made it impossible to see anything, but she knew that the sultan was coming.
“Zardi, we’ve got to run,” Zubeyda’s whispery voice gabbled out. “The sultan told me that if I reach the walled garden without getting caught then I win the Hunt. He promised that he’d let me go, that he’d let Baba go.”
“Where’s the walled garden?” Zardi asked, her eyes scanning the palace grounds. All she could see were trees and more trees.
“I don’t know,” Zubeyda cried. “None of the sultan’s prey has ever found the garden. The sultan has always won…”
“It’s just another part of his sick game.” A wave of hate slammed into Zardi. “But we’re going to beat him.” Her fingers closed around the Windrose in her pocket. “Guide me to the walled garden,” she murmured.
Almost immediately
, a light wind teasingly ruffled her scarf, brushed past her left cheek, and skipped away. She raced after it, plunging through the trees. Twigs and thorns tore at her bare feet. Because shoes would have been far too much of an advantage, Zardi thought, feeling the crash of a new wave of hatred.
Zardi ran on. She didn’t know where Khalila was, and there was no time to care. She was going to win the Hunt. She was going to get her sister to that walled garden. She was going to put her family back together. She was going to save Baba and get Zubeyda back to her sweetheart—
A crashing sound came from her right. Zardi turned to see the sultan galloping toward her, his hunting jackals leading the way. Zubeyda’s screams filled Zardi’s head, warring with the sound of the wildly barking jackals that chased them. Barks that Zardi understood.
Hunt.
Hunt.
Hunt.
She hurtled forward, swearing when the long sleeve of her dress caught on the branch of a tree. Yanking it away, she felt a slash of pain as the sharp branch sliced at her arm. Blood tinged the white of her dress, and Zubeyda’s sobs filled Zardi’s head. The sound of the jackals kept getting closer.
“Zub, it’s all right, don’t cry,” Zardi pleaded. “Be strong. All is well and I won’t leave you.” Her sister’s sobs became a whimper, and Zardi searched out the guiding wind again and continued to run. Up ahead she could see a low curved wall that surrounded a beautifully landscaped orchard. The walled garden, I just need—
One of the sultan’s jackals darted through her ankles, tripping her up. Zardi pitched forward, the Windrose flying from her hand into the undergrowth. She slammed into the dirt, the scarf coming away from her head, her cheek grazing the ground.
The jackals surrounded her, howling and gnashing their teeth. Meaty breath warmed her face. Zardi could feel Zubeyda collapsing in on herself like a paper puppet as fear overwhelmed them both. Her sister’s presence became thin, less than a whisper.
The Book of Wonders Page 22