For Molly Ker Hawn.
For being the first to fall in love with Amani’s story.
And making all of this possible.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Map
Character List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2: The Deathless Sultima
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10: The Girl Made of Gold
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17: The Beautiful General
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34: The Young Princes
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37: The Demdji and the Prince
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40: The Once Nameless Boy
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44: The Young Demdji
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47: The Rule of the Good Prince Ahmed
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by the Same Author
Praise for the series
Copyright
Cast of Characters
THE REBELLION
Amani – Sharpshooter, Demdji marked by blue eyes, able to control desert sand, also goes by the moniker of the Blue Eyed Bandit. Current de facto leader of the Rebellion in absence of Prince Ahmed. Seventeen years old.
Prince Ahmed Al-Oman Bin Izman – The Rebel Prince, leader of the Rebellion. Currently captured. Nineteen years old.
Jin – Prince of Miraji, brother of Ahmed, full name Ajinahd Al-Oman Bin Izman. Nineteen years old.
Prince Rahim – Prince of Miraji. Half-brother to Ahmed and Jin. Full-blooded brother of Leyla. One time military commander of Iliaz. Currently captured. Nineteen years old.
Shazad Al-Hamad – Daughter of a Mirajin general, among the original members of the Rebellion, well trained fighter, strategist. Currently captured. Eighteen years old.
Sam – Albish army deserter turned thief. Can walk through stone. Eighteen years old.
Tamid – Amani’s former best friend, Holy Father in training, walks with a limp due to a deformity at birth. Seventeen years old.
Delila – Demdji marked by purple hair, able to cast illusions out of light in the air. Ahmed’s sister by blood, Jin’s sister by adoption. Currently captured. Fifteen years old. Hero
Hala – Demdji marked by golden skin, able to twist people’s minds into hallucinations. Nineteen years old
Izz and Maz – Twin Demdji, marked by blue skin and blue hair respectively, able to shapeshift into any animal form. Seventeen years old.
Navid – Imin’s Husband. Captured. Fate unknown.
Sara – Warden of the Hidden House in Izman.
Fadi – Shira’s son with the Djinni Fereshteh. Demdji born with blue hair. Named after his grandfather. Smuggled out of the palace to safety.
***
NORTHERN MIRAJI
Sultan Oman – Ruler of Miraji, Ahmed and Jin’s father.
Leyla – Daughter of the Sultan and full-blooded sister of Prince Rahim. Skilled inventor. Betrayed the Rebellion. Fifteen years old.
Lord Bilal – Emir of Iliaz. Currently dying of a long drawn out illness. Nineteen years old.
General Hamad – General feigning loyalty to the Sultan. Shazad’s father.
Samira – Daughter of the deceased Emir of Saramotai. Newly appointed leader of Saramotai in the name of the Rebellion. Seventeen years old.
***
THE DJINN
Bahadur – Immortal Djinni. Amani’s father.
Fereshteh – Immortal Djinni. Fadi’s father. Killed so that his energy could be turned to electricity in the Sultan’s machine. The first Djinni to die since the First War.
THE LAST COUNTY
Farrah – Amani’s aunt, eldest sister to her mother.
Asid – Farrah’s husband, a horse trader in Dustwalk.
Nasima – One of Amani’s young cousins.
Olia – One of Amani’s young cousins.
Fazim – A resident of Dustwalk. Formerly Shira’s lover. Amani’s enemy.
Noorsham – Demdji marked by blue eyes, able to produce Djinni fire that can annihilate a whole city. Born in the mining town of Sazi. Missing since the battle of Fahali.
***
THE FALLEN
Zahia – Amani’s mother, hanged for the murder of her husband.
Hiza – Amani’s mother’s husband. Not Amani’s father by blood. Killed by his wife.
Nadira – Ahmed and Delila’s mother by blood. Killed by the Sultan for bearing a child to a Djinni.
Lien – Xichian woman, wife of the Sultan. Jin’s mother by blood, Ahmed and Delila’s mother by adoption. Died of an illness.
Bahi – Childhood friend of Shazad, disgraced Holy Man, killed by Noorsham.
Prince Naguib – One of the Sultan’s sons, army commander, killed by the rebels in the battle of Fahali.
Malik Al-Kizzam – Usurper of Saramotai. Killed by Shazad.
Ranaa – A young Demdji who could conjure light in her hands. Killed in a skirmish.
Sayidda – A spy for the Rebellion in the palace. Tortured to insanity in the Sultan’s machine. Killed in the flight from the Rebel Camp.
Mahdi – Sayidda’s lover. Betrayed the Rebellion to try to save Sayidda. Killed in the flight from the Rebel Camp.
Ayet, Uzma and Mouhna – Wives of Prince Kadir. Tortured to insanity in the Sultan’s machine.
Shira – Amani’s Cousin. Wife of Prince Kadir. Sultima. Executed by order of her husband for giving birth to a Djinni’s child.
Prince Kadir – The Sultan’s eldest son, Sultim, heir to the throne of Miraji. Killed by the Sultan.
Imin – Demdji marked by golden eyes, able to shapeshift into any human form. Hala’s sibling. Executed in order to save Ahmed, assuming his identity.
MYTHS & LEGENDS
First Beings – Immortal beings made by God, including Djinn, Buraqi and Rocs.
The Destroyer of Worlds – A being from the centre of the earth who came to the surface of the world to bring death and darkness. Defeated by humanity.
Ghouls – The Servants of the Destroyer of Worlds, includes Nightmares, Skinwalkers and others.
The First Hero – The first mortal created by the Djinn to face the Destroyer of Worlds. Made out of sand and water and air and brought to life with Djinni fire. Also known as the First Mortal.
Princess Hawa – Legendary princess who sang the sun into the sky.
The Hero Attallah – Lover of Princess Hawa.
Chapter 1
I woke from a sleep filled with nightmares to the sound of my name.
I was already reaching for a gun when I recognised Sara’s face above me, swimming in and out of focus as my eyes blurred with exhaustion.
My grip on the trigger eased. It wasn’t an enemy, just Sara, the guardian of the Hidden House. She was holding a small lamp that lit up only her face. For a moment she looked like a disembodied head
floating in the dark, like the ones in the dream that was fading now as I woke.
Imin wearing Ahmed’s face going willingly to the executioner’s stage.
My cousin Shira screaming her defiance as she was forced to her knees in front of the block.
Ayet, with eyes full of madness, awaiting the death that would come from having her soul drained out of her.
Ranaa, the Demdji child, who had carried the sun in her hands and died by a stray bullet in a battle she shouldn’t have been fighting.
Bahi, who’d burned in front of me at my brother’s hand.
My mother, who’d swung from a rope back in Dustwalk for shooting her husband, the man who’d never been my father anyway.
People I had watched die. People I had let die. The accusation was all over their faces.
But Sara was real. Sara was still alive. And so were others.
When the Sultan ambushed the Rebellion’s camp in the city, many were captured. But there was only one execution.
Imin. Our Demdji shape-shifter.
Imin had died wearing Ahmed’s face to deceive the Sultan and all of Izman into thinking the Rebel Prince was dead, while Delila cast an illusion to hide her real brother, who had been jailed with the rest of them.
And so Ahmed was still alive. So was Shazad, our general, even if she didn’t like being called that. We needed her back to lead us in the fight against the Sultan. And Rahim, another of the Sultan’s sons, who had held a grudge against our exalted ruler since he caused his mother’s death. He was our key to getting a whole army in the mountains that had never been loyal to the Sultan, but to him instead.
And now it was up to me to rescue them. Along with a handful of others who’d escaped capture that night. We had our reluctant prince, Jin, our professionally difficult golden-skinned Demdji, Hala, our shape-shifting twins, Izz and Maz, and our semi-reliable foreign thief, Sam. Not exactly an army, but it was what we had left.
I’d fallen asleep in a chair in some corner of the Hidden House, our last refuge in Izman, where what was left of the Rebellion had retreated. A faint glow coming in through the window danced across Sara’s face, enough for me to see the worry etched there. Her hair was tousled from a restless night, and a dark red robe hung loosely over her nightclothes, like she’d tied it in a hurry.
It must have been dawn. But my body still felt heavy with exhaustion, like I’d slept only a few hours. I reckoned I could sleep a year and I still wouldn’t shed this tiredness from my bones. It was the exhaustion of pain and of grief. My side still throbbed from the effort of using my powers a few hours ago, and for a second my vision tilted dangerously to one side, like I might lose my footing.
‘What’s happening?’ My voice came out a croak as I stretched my aching body, still sore from being cut open by my aunt just yesterday. A necessary evil to get out the iron the Sultan had put under my skin to keep me from accessing my Demdji power. ‘Is it morning?’
‘No, it’s late. I got up because the baby was fussing.’ As my eyes slowly adjusted, I noticed the sleeping infant balanced in the crook of her left arm. It was little Fadi, my cousin Shira’s newborn Demdji son. If there was any justice in the world he’d be with his mother now. But Shira had lost her head on the chopping block too. I remembered the accusation in Shira’s gaze in my nightmare. That her son would grow up without a family, all because of me.
‘When I woke up, there was …’ Sara hesitated. ‘I think you’d better see for yourself.’
That didn’t sound good. I pressed my palms against my tired eyes. What else could possibly have gone wrong in the last few hours? Behind my lids I saw Imin’s head falling on to that stage all over again. I dropped my hands. Better to face reality than nightmares. ‘All right,’ I said, slowly getting to my feet. ‘Lead the way.’
Cradling the small, blue-haired Demdji in her arms, Sara led me up the dark, winding staircase to the rooftop that gave the Hidden House its name. The garden that topped the flat building was surrounded on all sides by trellises thick with flowers that concealed the house from prying eyes and kept Sara and all the women under her charge safe.
I knew something was wrong before we fully emerged on to the roof. It was late at night. But there was a dim glow outside, like the red of an angry dawn. That didn’t make any sense this near midnight, not even in summer.
Sara reached the roof ahead of me and then quickly stepped out of the way, giving me an unobstructed view. And I saw what she was talking about.
The city of Izman was domed by fire.
Rippling flames hung over my head and to every side of us, like an immense vault placed over the city. I could just see the stars on the other side, but it was like looking through warped glass; they were blurry and indistinct. To the west I could see the fire arching down towards the walls of the city, and to the north it plunged down towards the sea. A memory came to me from nowhere, of my mother in our kitchen when I was little, slamming a glass over a beetle as it scurried across the kitchen table, capturing it inside. I’d watched curiously as the thing scrambled up the side of the glass, frantic and confused. Trapped. Staring up at the dome of fire over us, I understood that little Dustwalk beetle pretty well right now.
‘It’s magic,’ Sara said grimly, squinting up at the stars through the sheen of flames.
‘No.’ I might’ve believed that, too, once upon a time. But I recognised it, this flickering, too-bright, not entirely natural fire. It was the same one I’d seen bloom in the vaults under the palace when the Djinni Fereshteh had been killed in the Sultan’s machine. It was the same stolen fire that I had seen light up the Abdals, the Sultan’s mechanical soldiers, who, even now, patrolled the streets below us, keeping the curfew. ‘It’s an inventor’s trick.’ Some new creation of Leyla’s, the Sultan’s inventor daughter, designed to keep us imprisoned here. Except, even though this was new, there was something strangely familiar about it.
And lo, did a great wall of flames did enclose the mountain, trapping her for all eternity.
Those words from the Holy Books sprung into my mind fully formed. Dustwalk had drummed scripture into me for the first sixteen years of my life. I knew the story of Ashra’s Wall as well as anyone: the great barrier of fire that imprisoned the Destroyer of Worlds at the end of the First War.
Killing immortal beings. Resurrecting ideas from the Holy Books. The Sultan really was playing at being a god now.
Except this wasn’t to protect us from some great evil. And this was far from holy work.
We were trapped here by the great evil.
*
I didn’t wake the rest of the house, just Jin. Though it took me longer than I would’ve liked before I finally found him in one of the many rooms of the house. He’d fallen asleep fully clothed on top of an unmade bed with his arm flung over his face against the light. I didn’t even have to shake him awake. The moment my hand touched his shoulder, his eyes snapped open, his hand clamping painfully over my wrist, moments away from breaking it before he recognised me.
He cursed in Xichian, his grip loosening quickly as he sat up. He fought for alertness through his exhaustion. ‘You startled me, Bandit.’
‘Don’t try to tell me that this is the first time you’ve been woken up by a girl in the dead of night.’ My lightness was strained as I pushed a strand of dark hair out of his face with my now-freed hand so I could see him clearly. He needed to cut it. But it’d been a long time since we’d had the luxury of time for frivolous things. Not since we were pushed out of our camp in the desert.
Jin caught my hand again, but more gently this time, and for a moment there was a ghost of that old smile, one that meant simpler trouble than the kind we were in right now. But before he could give voice to whatever thought it was that went with that smile, my words reached his tired mind. ‘It can’t be the dead of night.’ He glanced at the light leaking through the window.
And my brief moment of dodging the world outside was gone.
I told him what Sara h
ad shown me as we waited anxiously for the real dawn. The house woke little by little around us, and the same unsettled feeling draped over everyone’s shoulders as, one by one, they saw the dome. Each of them looking at me for answers I didn’t have.
How is it made? Can we get through it? Is it here to keep us in?
Finally, the very first spark of dawn leaked through the veil of fire, signalling the end of curfew. Finally, Jin and I could move.
The streets were already flooding with people, men and women stumbling out of their houses, eyes upon the fire-filled sky above us. The same questions that the Rebellion had been asking me were on everyone’s lips. Jin and I dodged around them as quickly as we could without attracting suspicion. Both of our gazes were fixed on the compass in Jin’s hand. The one that was paired with Ahmed’s. Our Rebel Prince had had his compass with him when he was taken prisoner.
‘He still has it,’ I said out loud to be sure, as we rushed through the tight streets of the city. I could feel my breath coming short the closer we got to the palace. That was where the prisoners had been taken yesterday, before Imin’s execution. But as we neared the wider, richer streets that surrounded the palace, the compass needle didn’t swing towards the Sultan’s walls. Instead it kept pointing south.
We passed the palace, my heart feeling tighter with every step we took away from it. We’d figured our rebels were still being held within the palace walls. Hell, we’d counted on it. Now all I had to cling to was a faint hope that they were at least still in the city. That Jin’s compass might track down its pair before we reached the wall.
It didn’t.
The sky outside the wall of fire had gone from pink to gold as we reached the south gate. Zaman’s Gate, named after the first Sultan of Miraji. Just beyond it, the wall of fire rose.
It looked a whole lot more imposing up close than it had standing under it. It seemed to snap and crackle angrily. Sparking at intervals, like it was hungry for destruction. Like it would consume anything that dared try to cross it.
And the compass in Jin’s hand was pointing straight towards it.
They were outside the city. The Sultan had sent the prisoners beyond the city and put up a wall around us. We were trapped here while they were out there. Taken somewhere to be imprisoned for the rest of their lives without trial – our Sultan’s version of mercy.
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