by A. Star
The whistle of the train blew, jerking me away from my crazy thoughts.
“We are off,” Irving said with a smile.
“Who’s driving this thing?” I questioned. From where we were sitting, I couldn’t see the engineer.
“His name is Yash and he has been the Sultan’s engineer for at least four centuries now.”
The ages of Djinn still baffled me, but I brushed the thought aside and prepared myself for the adventure of a lifetime.
Shrinelyn was amazing. The train wove itself down the mountain away from the palace at a slow but steady speed, allowing me to take everything in. More steel creatures roamed the mountainside—goats and even a few coyotes—leaving me to believe that flesh animals didn’t even exist in Shrinelyn. Or maybe they only kept flesh animals they could eat. There had been meat at breakfast and it had to have come from somewhere. But it wasn’t really something I wanted to focus on at the moment.
We rounded a bend and passed under a granite arch, putting us at the base of a very steep mountain peak. Something sitting at the top of it caught my eye. I looked up and immediately recoiled. It was a giant golden head inside of a glass dome. Lightning bolts shot off all around the head, contained by the glass but they still freaked me out.
“The hell is that thing? It’s creepy.”
Irving grinned. “That is the power dome. All electricity is generated there and powers everything in Shrinelyn. It is situated far from the rest of society because the power it holds is beyond lethal. One crack in the glass and we’d all fry like eggs.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Did you just make a joke, Irving?”
“Whatever are you going on about, Glory St. Pierre? I make jokes all of the time.”
“You try. But you’re only ever amusing to yourself.”
“That is enough for me.” I rolled my eyes and he winked at me.
Once we finally cleared the mountains, we cruised along through an industrial village of steel warehouses crawling with men outfitted in black leather, sabers and monocle eye-patches made out of antique brass. They were dressed like assassins, but I doubted Irving would take me on a tour to see where the Sultan sheltered his band of merry killers. As our train crept along, each of the men took a knee to honor the royalty that was aboard.
“These are the barracks,” Irving said. “Soldiers from the imperial army are housed here unless they are united and have a family. Then they live among the rest of our kind.”
I peered out of the window thinking I hadn’t been too far off in my assumptions. Soldiers could be assassins. “So all of these handsome hunks are single, eh?” I winked over my shoulder at Irving and he grinned.
“I would not let you go so easily, Glory St. Pierre.”
“No? What would you do to keep me?”
“Kill every single one of the soldiers that catches your eye and entices you with their desire.”
I whistled. “That’s a lot of killing.”
Irving chuckled. “You take pleasure in testing me, don’t you?”
“Nothing brings me more joy.”
He rolled his eyes and pointed out the window. “Look. You’re missing it.”
I turned and gasped like a child that had just arrived at Disneyworld.
“Airships,” I breathed.
We had left the imperial barracks and pulled into a huge marina full of airships. Like real airships. Men were scattered all over the marina working, lifting, fixing, and all sorts of other things. I saw a group of Djinn struggling to hang a sail, another lifting a steam engine to transport it somewhere, and more Djinn working on a brand new steel ship that had yet to see its first flight.
“Most of the ships belong to the Sultan,” Irving said. “But that one belongs to Edwin.” He pointed out a massive airship named The Sky Harem. So befitting. “That one belongs to Ada.” Hers was called The Tiger’s Talon. Also befitting. “And that one belongs to me.” Irving’s airship had a simple name. Mallika.
“Who’s Mallika?” I asked.
Irving sighed. “She is someone I once knew but will never know again.” The sadness in his eyes confirmed that this Mallika was someone Irving loved with all of his heart, a heart Mallika had broken when she’d left. Or died. Could she possibly be dead? I wanted to know but didn’t want to push it and possibly ruin our day. I decided to wait for the right moment and ask again, though I wasn’t sure there would ever be a right moment to ask about the possible love of his life and if he was trying to replace her with me.
Where that thought came from, I had no idea.
We moved on from the airship marina and pulled into the heart of Shrinelyn. Irving called it the Night Bazaar, and it went by that name even during the day. The bazaar was exactly what I expected a bazaar to be—busy and loud with an endless village of Victorian-style houses surrounding it. Some were low and wide; others were compact and tall and came in a variety of colors and materials. A few houses were even perched on the limbs of trees. And what do you know? The trees were made of steel. It was honestly one of the coolest things I’d ever seen and I wondered if I could get away with building a functional tree house in my realm and actually living in it. Probably not, but the thought was nice.
A robotic blacksmith was the first commodity at the bazaar that caught my eye. It was built to look like a man, a steel man, and seemed to have all the functions of one, except maybe organs that actually worked. Sparks flew as its hammer continuously smashed into the piece of steel positioned on top of an anvil. I wondered if it was actually building something or if it was just there for show. Either way, it was pretty damn cool.
There was a Djinn woman set up not too far from the blacksmith that kept changing her appearance for every customer who showed interest in her array of knickknacks. She appeared as a handsome young man when conversing with a trio of young girls, and when some young men came snooping around her cart, she transformed herself into a stunning beauty with black locks down to her waist. How many people did she fool with this stunt every day? It must have been quite a few because in just the moments I watched her, she made a killing.
Screw my glamour, I thought to myself. I want to do that. But I knew Irving would slit his own wrists before granting me anymore magic powers.
Closer to the center of the bazaar, a man demonstrated a brass jetpack to a troop of young boys. They exploded with applause when a pair of brown leather wings extended from the pack, demonstrating how they would look in flight. Even I was intrigued. It was pretty bad ass.
I was so taken by everything going on at the bazaar that I never noticed all the people collecting near the tracks. When I finally did, dozens had gathered and they were all waving at us.
“Should I wave back at them?” I questioned.
“They cannot even see you through the shaded windows,” Irving replied. “They have only gathered because they believe their Sultan is aboard.”
“Isn’t he?” I said, my eyes fixated on a little Djinn boy standing with his mother at the tracks. His face was covered in what appeared to be chocolate and he kept sticking his tongue out trying to get it all. When his mother finally realized what a mess he was, she started fussing at him and wiping at his clothes. He just laughed at her and so did I. The only way to remove all of that chocolate was with a good bath and the little Djinn seemed to know it.
My smile vanished as I reeled my attention back inside the train. Minutes had passed and Irving never responded to my remark. I knew he was hoping that I dropped the subject, but there was no way I could do that. Not now. So I just turned toward him and asked what I really wanted to know.
“Are you the Sultan of Shrinelyn, Irving?”
Irving’s eyes shot to mine, but he still didn’t speak.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I pushed on. “I can’t think of any other reason why the crown prince and first princess would bow to you. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Still, he said nothing. But I was on a roll and this conversa
tion wasn’t going anywhere but where I wanted it to go.
“And then when we were with Kasam…it was something he said. Something about you speaking like a Sultan. It was your reaction. You didn’t like the comment.” I swallowed hard. “Please tell me, Irving. Tell me the truth.”
Irving’s response was not immediate, but I got one this time. “I am not the Sultan, Glory,” he said.
“Then who are you? Don’t tell me you are just an Amir prince. I know it’s not true so don’t insult me by trying to feed me that load of bull.”
“I am not the Sultan,” he repeated. There was a moment of silence, then he said, “But I was supposed to be.”
My heart skipped a beat. I held my breath and waited on him to continue.
“I am the only son of the eldest brother, though it is widely believed that I am the heir of the fourth son born to Parish,” Irving said. “Very few know that I am the son of Vinesh Amir, the first born and the Sultan.”
I knew what it meant to be the first born of the oldest brother. Royalty was all the same. In more ancient times, the eldest brother always inherited the throne, and his eldest son inherited the throne after him. The Djinn kind were no different it seemed.
I nodded at him to tell me more as the train continued on its way. I no longer cared where.
“I never wanted to be Sultan, Glory, and from a very young age, I always felt trapped. It was my birthright, the honor coveted by every male in our kingdom, yet I wanted no part of it. Politics annoyed me and my curiosity for steel and all that it could create worried my parents and the Council. Steel was not a proper pastime for a Sultan, you see. But my inquisitiveness overpowered the opinion of the Council and that is what led me to Lord Balzar, whom I knew no one had the audacity to question or chastise. He accepted me as his apprentice and that was that.
“But forty years into my apprenticeship, my father fell victim to black ash while on an expedition and faded into eternal rest. I was proclaimed Sultan the moment of his last breath. The sun did not even leave the sky before I abdicated the throne in favor of my uncle. My mother and the Council were furious, but I was two centuries old by then and there was nothing they could do about it. The very next day, Kasam was crowned Sultan of Shrinelyn and has been so ever since. I neither regret my decision nor wish I had chosen a different path. I would have made a horrible Sultan and I am glad I chose Kasam, for he is the best thing that has ever happened to Shrinelyn.”
I finally released my breath and turned to stare out of the window while I absorbed everything I’d just heard. Irving called his uncle by his name in such a casual manner that I knew it was all true. He had abdicated the throne and Kasam was only Sultan because Irving wasn’t.
Sure, I had come to this conclusion on my own, but it was still shocking. It seemed it was just one revelation after another with Irving and I barely registered one admission before he was dropping another on me. But the Sultan? Irving was the damned Sultan? Now that was one confession I just didn’t know how to process.
“Say something, Glory. Say anything.”
“What do you want me to say?” I asked. “First, I find out you’re a Djinn. Then I find out you’re a Djinn prince. Less than twenty-four hours later, I’m listening to you tell me that you’re the Sultan of Shrinelyn.” I turned back to look at him. “What the hell do you expect me to say to that?”
“I want to hear you say that it does not change anything between us,” Irving said.
“Are you freaking kidding me? This changes everything.”
“But it does not have to. I do not sit on the throne, Glory. The Sultan’s Diadem does not rest on my head. I am a prince and nothing more.”
“You are the Sultan of Shrinelyn!” I shouted. “The crown prince and first princess bow to you! Kasam probably bows to you! How can you sit there and tell me that means nothing?”
“Because it does not. I do not rule this kingdom, so therefore, I am not the Sultan.”
He didn’t get it. He just didn’t get it.
“Take me back to the palace, please. Or better yet, take me back to my realm.”
“I cannot do that, Glory.”
“Then take me anywhere that you’re not!”
Irving frowned. “You are being irrational.”
“Irrational!?” I screeched. The urge to smack him rose up in me. “You keep secrets like this and you call me irrational? I bet you never would have told me who you were if I hadn’t witnessed the truth for myself!”
He didn’t deny it and that said everything.
“Take me back to the palace, Irving.” It was an order and he knew it. I understood that my realm wasn’t safe, so I wasn’t going to demand he take me back there. But I needed to be alone for a while and sort through my feelings. I needed time to think all of this through and decide what it all meant for me.
“Your wish is my command, Glory.”
And in the blink of an eye, we had returned to the palace and I was alone in his chambers. Left to stew with my thoughts and come to terms with the reality of my situation.
Irving was the Sultan of Shrinelyn.
I fell back onto his bed and curled myself around one of his long body pillows.
Irving was the Sultan of Shrinelyn.
My heart started to race as the truth settled in.
Irving was the Sultan of Shrinelyn.
Dammit. What the hell had I gotten myself into with this Djinn?
“Wake up, Glory.”
I had no idea when I’d fallen asleep, only that I was pissed I was being woken up now. I groaned as I rolled over, then groaned louder when I saw his face.
“Go away,” I grumbled. “I’m still mad at you.”
I wasn’t really. I’d had hours to think about things and though I didn’t like all the secrecy, I could understand why Irving wouldn’t want something like this to get out. He was the true Sultan of the Djinn realm and I figured at this point, nobody knew. Nobody, as in no one in the League of the Black Cloud. They assumed all Irving was was an Amir prince, a descendant of the Djinn who crumbled their empire. But if they knew who he really was, they would probably tear the world apart to obtain his Chronolier. Becoming Irving’s master would be the one thing they never gave up on. Though as things stood, that already seemed to be the main objective.
So yeah, I understood. But I wanted Irving to trust me and not keep me in the dark about shit like this. Not now. Not when we were being hunted and secrets could be the very death of either one of us. I wanted truth or nothing.
“I have something I need to say to you and then I will go if that is what you want.”
I grunted as I pushed myself into a sitting position. I crossed my arms and glared at Irving. He must have realized that was the only go ahead he was going to get from me and he pushed forward.
“Edwin and Ada did not have a choice in their deference to me at breakfast this morning,” he said. “According to Djinn law, a Sultan can never really stop being a Sultan. So my inferiors will always be my inferiors, though I do not see my cousins in that light. But the truth remains that my uncle only rules because I let him. At any moment, I can reclaim my crown and throne, though Kasam knows I never will. I do not want to be the Sultan. My feelings have not changed in this regard.”
“Do your people know?” I asked. “Your kind, I mean? Do they know that you’re the true Sultan?”
“As I stated before, there are those who do know my true identity. Select members of the Council and confidants of Kasam. For security reasons, there are many servants who know my identity, but their tongues were cut out to secure their silence. So if a servant has the ability to talk, they do not know who I really am.”
“Can’t they just write it down instead?”
“No. Palace servants can neither read nor write. Djinn law forbids it.”
I shook my head in disgust. “And you call humans the brutes.”
“It was the Council who served Parish whom drafted such drastic laws. As Sultan, I would neve
r have allowed it. But what is done is done. Kasam rules this kingdom and his word is law. I am his subject and will remain so until the stars reclaim his soul. Then, I will bow to Edwin and serve him as I did his father.”
“Aren’t you worried about being betrayed? Do you trust your kind that much?” And me that little?
“I know it may seem strange to you for me to trust my kind in that way, with something so important. But you must understand, Glory. To betray me would be to betray all of Shrinelyn. It would be the end of our world, but that is not why I do not worry. The Halo of Elders is enough to secure my trust in my kind. For the Elders would seek to right the wrong of the one who betrayed us if our world was to fall, and that is a fate worse than anything.”
“What is the Halo of Elders?” I asked.
“They are immortal beings who are older than time itself. They are neither Djinn nor Fae, Elven nor Demonish. They are everything and they are the end. No being would willingly incur their wrath. Therefore, no Djinn would dare betray their Sultan.”
I cocked my head at him as I studied his expression. “You’re lying again.”
“Am I?” He wasn’t defensive so I knew I was right.
“You are. I may not know much about your world, but I know there’s always one who is so evil and self-absorbed in their dastardly deeds that they would risk everything to be the last one standing. So don’t lie to me, Irving. Tell me who they are and why they want you dead. Tell me who raised the Army of Brass and Steel and tried to kill us.”
Irving’s expression sobered. At first, I was sure he was going to deny me an answer, but then he said, “Rasputin.”
“Rasputin?” I frowned and my brain went wild. “Are you talking about the Rasputin who was connected to the Romanovs, the last imperial family of Russia?”
“The very same.”