by Joshua Khan
“Okay. I won’t.”
Lily continued. “I’m sending a bat home with some messages. Anything you want to tell your family?”
“Like what?” He met her gaze. “Ain’t you gonna take care of ’em?”
“Of course I am. You know that. But don’t you want to say something to them? Just in case…” Lily twisted her ring.
“Yeah, all right. Tell ’em not to touch my stuff.”
“Is that it? Nothing more?”
“There’s more. Of course there’s more.” Thorn pondered. “Tell ’em not to touch my stuff…ever.”
“Fine. Got it. I’m sure they’ll be very moved.” Lily stopped in front of the door to the Fire Hall. “There’s just one other thing….”
He looked sideways at her, suspicious. “What?”
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Thorn. You know I…I like you a lot. You are my friend, aren’t you?”
“But…?” He narrowed his eyes, as if he was aiming one of his arrows.
“But K’leef is likely to be the next sultan, and if it comes down to saving him or yourself…You know what I’m trying to say?”
His eyes went as thin as a blade’s edge. “No. I’m just a witless commoner. You need to spell things out for me.”
Lily’s gaze fell to the floor. “The next sultan, and you noticed that he is very, very handsome? He’d make a fine match, and it would make Gehenna so much more powerful. Baron Sable’s all for it. His wife is a cousin to the Djinns, and she thinks we could sort out the details pretty quickly.”
“What details?”
“The engagement, of course.”
“Whaaat?” Thorn pulled his hand free of hers. “So it’s true? You’re going to marry K’leef?”
“Of course not,” she said.
“Phew.”
“Not until I’m sixteen,” she finished. “Then there’ll be a huge wedding.”
“Aargh!”
Lily burst out laughing. “Honestly, Thorn. You are so easy to tease.” Then she became serious. “Look after him, that’s all I’m saying.”
Thorn scowled at her. “You are a strange, strange girl, Lily Shadow.”
“Would you want me any different?”
They entered the Fire Hall. The empty throne dominated the quiet space, a dark tumor at the heart of the kingdom.
Thrones claimed lives, she knew better than most. Yet everyone seemed eager to sit upon one.
How many princes were vying for it today? She looked around the golden room.
It was as large as the Great Hall of Gehenna. But here the columns were thin and elegant and the space brightly lit and colorful. Instead of gargoyles and statues of monsters, these alcoves held mosaics revealing scenes from the life of Prince Djinn, the founder of the Sultanate. She had read about some of them. Him wrestling an efreet in the Shardlands. His capture of the last dragon. The destruction of the first city. Huge flames, lava, and smoke spewed out of the volcano that had once been here. Its eruption had sunk the original Nahas beneath the waves, and the crescent bay was all that remained.
She counted roughly a hundred people in the room, a fraction of the thousands that had cheered for Sa’if outside only a few days ago.
They were clustered in groups around their candidates. Lily and Thorn joined the small band with K’leef.
Gabriel was there, clad in silver armor, his hand clutching the sword on his hip. He greeted her with a scowl. “You took your time.”
Lily ignored him and kissed a nervous K’leef. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly? Violently ill.”
Gabriel huffed. “There’s nothing to it. The challenge will be set, and you and I”—he glanced at Thorn—“with the assistance of the lower classes, will triumph.”
Lily put her hand on Thorn before he could do something unpleasant to the heir of the Lumina. “It’s a trial by fire, Gabriel,” she said. “It’s going to be dangerous. Now, these two are proven heroes, while you’re…what? A knee-trembling coward?”
Gabriel snorted. “Who saved you at Halloween? Or defeated that treacherous brother of yours in the Battle of Gloom?”
She pointed at Thorn. “Him.”
“As I said, with the assistance of the lower classes.”
Thorn butted in. “Are you really that deluded?”
“Stop it,” snapped K’leef. “We’ve got to work together. There’ll be enough—”
Silence fell over the crowd as the old vizier, Marouf, shuffled up to the throne. He leaned on his staff and paused every few steps.
Gabriel nudged Lily. “One of yours, I suppose?”
“What?”
“A zombie. He looks decrepit enough.”
Marouf turned around and spoke, his voice stronger than what anyone would expect to come from his feeble body. “The trial has been decided. The destruction of the old tower was an omen. There has been no phoenix above the palace in almost two hundred years, since the time of Agni, Lord of Flame. We must restore pride and honor to this sullied throne. We must show the New Kingdoms what it means to be the Sultan Djinn. Thus, any of you who wish to wear the lava crown must first claim a phoenix.”
People gasped and muttered. A few of the brothers shook their heads, giving up already.
“Can’t be done.”
“Impossible.”
“Might as well ask us to bottle the sun.”
K’leef, already pale and sickly, turned a jaundiced yellow. “A phoenix? Is he joking?”
Lily gripped his hand. “You can’t give up, K’leef.”
“You don’t understand. The fire of a phoenix is a thousand times fiercer than the lava crown. Our magic doesn’t protect us from it. You get within ten yards of a grown phoenix and you’ll be ash in a minute. And it’s not like they nest nearby, either.”
“So where are they?” asked Thorn, glowering at Gabriel.
“The Shardlands.”
“Oh,” said Lily. “I see.”
The vizier hadn’t declared a trial; he had issued a death sentence. The old man raised his hands. “Step forward, claimants for the crown.”
Jambiya tapped his way up. His supporters cheered. There were a lot of them, including some from other kingdoms. Lily knew Jambiya had traveled widely, and based on the looks of this bunch, he’d made many strange allies.
There was commotion in another group, and a second young man marched ahead, breaking free of an older woman’s grip. She held her hands against her face, trying not to cry.
“Fafnir,” said K’leef. “He’s good.”
Fafnir? Lily searched her memory. The red-haired man seemed so different from K’leef, but…“His mother is Princess Sif, your father’s…third wife?”
She looked again at the weeping mother. She was a long way from her original home, with her pale hair and creamy skin, but there was no question that she belonged to House Djinn now. What peace deal had brought her here? K’leef watched his half brother. “If anyone could beat Jambiya, it’s Fafnir. But he’s a wanderer, like his mother.”
“A wanderer?”
“She came here from way up north. There’s not a drop of noble blood in her, but I think my father, a warrior, liked the fact that she had seen some of the world. Her people find it hard to settle down, and Fafnir’s the same way.”
“She was a trader from the Ice Isles, wasn’t she? She came selling furs,” said Lily. “Gave your father the skin of a dire wolf.”
K’leef looked at her, amazed. “How do you know that?”
How did she? She must have read it somewhere….
Thorn laughed. “By the Six, it’s a miracle your father got any ruling done, what with all the time he must have spent in the bedchamber.”
“Is there anyone else?” asked Marouf.
“It’s now or never,” muttered K’leef, more to himself than them.
Lily turned her gaze to the two other brothers. Jambiya was twice K’leef’s age, well traveled, and an accomplished sorcerer. But he wa
s a ruthless man, perhaps even evil. His plain dress was just a pretense of being humble. He wanted the crown, and Lily was afraid of what he’d do if he got it.
Fafnir was an unknown quantity. He glanced at his group—his mother especially—with doubt and mixed feelings. Why had he put himself forward? To prove something? His name had never come up before. Lily guessed he didn’t want the crown, not really. Just like K’leef.
Gabriel lifted K’leef’s arm and shouted, “Here! K’leef’s doing it, too!”
And that was that.
Stunned, walking as if in a dream, K’leef approached his two brothers. Then the three of them turned to face the crowd. The vizier put his hand on Fafnir’s shoulder. “Declare your companions.”
Fafnir took a deep breath and called out two names. One was clearly a warrior; the other was a man with the tall, dark features of a nomad.
“He’ll be useful in the Shardlands,” Lily commented. “Fafnir’s clever.”
Then came K’leef. “Gabriel, of House Solar, and Thorn, of House Shadow.”
Thorn winked at her. “Wish me luck.”
Lily’s heart skipped a beat to watch him stand beside K’leef. She had gotten used to having him nearby. Gabriel joined them, raising his arms triumphantly as if the cheers were for him rather than K’leef.
The vizier approached Jambiya. “And your companions, Prince?”
His crowd of supporters shuffled around to allow his chosen men through.
Jambiya smiled. “First, I summon Nasr, of the Scorpion tribe.”
Another nomad. Jambiya must have guessed that the trial would entail travel to the Shardlands.
Nasr walked forward, his long desert robes sweeping the floor, and bowed before his champion. Jambiya then raised his hand. “And for my second companion…”
A man moved to the front, awaiting the call. A man in black.
Lily’s blood froze. It wasn’t possible.
“I call upon Pandemonium, of House Shadow.”
FIFTEEN
“I can’t believe it,” said Lily the moment she and Thorn left the gathering. She was finding it difficult to catch her breath.
Thorn nodded. “I hardly recognized him, he’s changed so much. How long has—”
“Six months.”
Six months since she’d discovered that her uncle Pan had murdered her parents and brother in an attempted coup. Six months since he’d tried to kill her, too. Six months since she’d banished him.
“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d just done what everyone wanted you to do.”
“I couldn’t kill my own kin, Thorn.”
“He did.”
“And that’s how we’re different.”
Thorn sighed. “You’ll regret that mercy, one day. I just hope I don’t.”
He was right. Pan had changed. His hair was short and his beard trim, though grayer than she remembered, and his eyes were sharp again. His wine belly had been replaced by muscle. His slouch was gone, too, the way he used to stand to balance his swollen gut. Now her uncle stood straighter than one of Thorn’s arrows.
“How good a fighter is he, Lily?” asked Thorn.
“He was very good.” There was no point in pretending otherwise. Who knew how things would play out? “Father was the sorcerer, Pan the warrior. He led our armies, at least until Tyburn arrived on the scene.”
“I never thought I’d say it, but I wish Tyburn was here now.”
“I couldn’t bring him, so I brought you.”
“Some replacement.”
She’d only gotten a glimpse of Pan, and he’d purposefully not looked in her direction, but her uncle seemed different in another way, too. There was a hardness to him that hadn’t been there before.
“We’ll just have to avoid crossing his path.” Thorn gathered up his bow and quiver. “Time to get going, I think.”
Lily glanced at her friend as they walked. Unlike her, he looked completely at ease.
Thorn was wild at heart. He breathed deepest under the open sky. How had they even become friends? They were as different as could be. Lily’s world was tombs and darkness and necromancy, the sorcery of death. Thorn’s world was hunting in the forest, listening to birdsong, sleeping under the stars, and—
He burped. “Sorry. That last cake might have been one too many.”
And stuffing his face. “Cake? For breakfast?”
“That’s not a local custom?” he asked.
“You do realize you are heading into the Shardlands, don’t you?”
“It’s the wilderness, Lily. They’re all pretty much the same.” Thorn checked his pockets, no doubt for leftover crumbs. “Grandpa says there’s simple rules to surviving the wild.”
“Go on, then. What does your dear grandpa say?”
“‘Stay away from the things wanting to eat you.’”
Lily nodded. “Wise, yet completely useless.”
Thorn held up a quarter of a muffin. “And the other one is to eat whenever you can.” And so he did.
He was still picking at crumbs when they emerged from the palace and joined K’leef and his horses. Thorn tapped a chest hanging on the back of a mule. “Traveling light, I see. What’s in this?”
“Books.”
Thorn pursed his lips and gestured at a string of satchels. “And in those? More books?”
“No,” snapped K’leef. “Those would be my scrolls.”
Thorn rolled his eyes. “And…”
K’leef adjusted his turban. “Four maps, the most accurate we have of the Shardlands. Then I’ve got my blank parchment—and quills and inks, of course. I’ve brought my measuring gear, too. If we go into uncharted territory, we’ll be wanting to record the route.”
Thorn grabbed a wooden frame strung with beads. “And we’ll be playing music at night?”
“That’s an abacus, Thorn. It’s for mathematics.”
“We’re going to die horribly.” Thorn looked pleadingly at her. “Tell him to dump this junk, Lily. Please.”
She inspected the luggage. “And weaponry, K’leef?”
“Weapons? Why would I have any weapons? I can’t fight.”
“You are going to the Shardlands. To capture a phoenix.” She picked up a cage. “What’s this?”
He smiled broadly. “My phoenix cage. I spent all night building it.”
“It does look very homemade.”
“Thanks.”
“It wasn’t a compliment. How is this going to trap a phoenix? Aren’t they made out of fire?”
“Which is why I’ve used cold iron.” He adjusted the hinges. “I studied the design out of the spell book of Alnniran, my grandfather’s grandfather. He was the last to trap a phoenix.”
“But he reinforced his cage with a dampening spell,” said Lily. “The Enchantment of Sulfur.”
K’leef frowned. “Not many outside of my family have even heard of that spell, Lily.”
“Do you know it?” Lily asked.
He shook his head. “Sa’if was trying to teach it to me, but I still had a long way to go.”
Lily picked at the thin bars. “Then you may not have used enough cold iron.”
“It’s all I’ve got.” He fiddled with his turban, retying the end. “There are reports from the nomads that they nest up in the Lava Mountains now. That’s where we’ll go. That’s why I need the maps.”
“Oh, I give up!” shouted Thorn, and he stomped off to check his own horse.
Lily helped adjust the saddle. She wanted to do something for him. “Look after yourself, K’leef. If it gets to be too much, come home. The crown’s not worth it.”
“Someone has to stop Jambiya,” K’leef replied. “I’ve asked Paz to keep an eye on you. If you need anything, just ask him.”
The stable doors opened, and out came Gabriel riding a gleaming white horse, followed by six heavily laden mules, and finally two camels, equally burdened.
“Why are you wearing a bonnet, Gabriel?” asked Lily.
“This i
s not a bonnet. It’s a topi, and it’s to keep the sun off. Otherwise you end up tanned like a peasant.”
“And who are they?”
“My servants.”
“You’re taking twelve people? On this quest?”
“Of course not.” He shifted over and recounted the men lurking in the shade. “There should be fifteen.”
Thorn stormed back over. “Lily! Do something!”
She looked up at Gabriel, shielding her eyes from the sunlight blazing off his silver-studded saddle. “Do you really need all this?”
“What do you mean? These are the barest essentials!”
She pointed at something bronze tied to a camel. “What’s that?”
“My bathtub.” He folded his arms. “I am not leaving that here. Someone else might use it while I’m gone.”
Thorn grabbed her wrist and dragged her away. When they were alone, he whispered to her, “I’m going to take him out there and lose him. Understood?”
“You can’t do that, Thorn.” Lily paused. “Not really.”
“I hear you saying one thing but thinking something else, Lily.” He glanced over at Gabriel, who was now issuing instructions to his servants. They were putting out a table and chair. One unfolded a tablecloth.
“It’s a miracle he’s lasted this long.” Lily sighed. “Just make it look like an accident.”
“They’ll never find the body,” said Thorn.
The outer gates began to part. Hot wind rushed in through the widening gap, carrying with it the lifeless scent of desert.
Lily hugged Thorn. She held him tightly, squeezing him as hard as she could, suddenly afraid. She didn’t want to let him go. “You take care.”
He slipped free. “Of course.”
She laughed at his blushing face. “Don’t do anything stupid. If you get yourself killed, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll hunt you into the Twilight, you know that?”
He muttered something, then rose up onto his horse. “Good-bye, Lady Shadow.”
“Good-bye, Thorn.”
That wasn’t what she’d meant to say, but the words had stuck in her throat.
She hoped he already knew what they were.
SIXTEEN
Thorn didn’t ride with Gabriel or K’leef. He slipped off his horse—no point tiring it out when they were going so slowly anyway—and joined the straggling line of servants.