War of the Sultans

by Fuad Baloch

  Camsh blinked, then nodded. “He doesn’t hold a high opinion, I’m afraid.”

  Nuraya forced a chuckle. “So, if I were to just ride back into the city, he wouldn't welcome me with open arms?”

  “I… doubt that,” he replied. A diplomatic answer, she noted. “He has assumed the power of regency and publicly declared for the one-eyed who he says would return soon.”

  “But he doesn't know what has happened to the usurper?” pressed Jinan.

  “Correct. The one-eyed was visiting the Matli graveyard. When he wasn’t heard from after an hour, the Sultan’s Body searched for him, but couldn’t find him.”

  Nuraya drummed her fingers on the dirty table. She had grown a tender spot for Shoki, one that dreaded what had happened to him, despite his crimes against her family. She pressed her palms together, banishing the guard from her thoughts. Too much was going on, all at once. How could anyone really know what was the best move with such little information?

  “We should march back,” said Jinan, his voice harsh. “With the usurper out of the way, we can retake the Shahi Qilla, pay our due… respects to the ones we lost there.” He thumped his chest. “We owe it to the dead.”

  Nuraya considered his words, forcing a dispassionate distance—something that was beginning to come easier than she’d expected. There was a reason Vishan had always been resistant to Jinan’s ideas. Well-intentioned or not, her siphsalar had a tendency to strategize from a very narrow perspective.

  “Who knows if they even showed proper respect to the… bodies of your mother and Mona?” Jinan pursed his lips. “Give me the order and I will prepare the men to march out straight away.”

  Mother. Nuraya chewed her lower lip. She hadn't loved her mother, not really, but the manner in which Shoki had… killed her made it far too confusing for Nuraya to really see what she thought of it all.

  Numbers. Think of the numbers.

  “No,” said Nuraya, her eyes drawn to her chipped fingernails, her heart heavy under the weight of the numbers arrayed against her. “We head north and gather more strength. When I march to Algaria, I need to be sure nothing will be able to stop me!”

  Chapter 4

  Shoki

  Instead of the rush of air filling his lungs as he fell to his death, Shoki floated like a leaf navigating unseen currents. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jiza spread her arms, her peshwaz fluttering softly, her eyes shut as if she were in meditation.

  Forgetting his descent for a moment, Shoki stared at her open-mouthed. She was a djinn, just like Mara. However, where Mara had been old, bald, frankly repulsive, this woman was everything but. Was it an illusion or did she really look like this?

  Reality came crashing through.

  He was falling from a great height—one no human could survive—in Nainwa, a city of the djinn! There were so many wrongs with the picture that he wasn't sure which one to consider first.

  Was it jadu that kept him afloat instead of the plunge that should have happened?

  Cautiously, Shoki closed his eye, letting his senses reach out for the thrill and the cold currents of jadu.

  Nothing.

  Once more, he tried, this time letting desperation force an urgency in his grasping fingers.

  Nothing.

  Of course, he didn't have any jadu. He had burned himself out at the Shahi Qilla, exchanging the weakness and rot in the stone with the raw power of jadu thrumming through his soul.

  His eye snapped open.

  The breeze brushing against his face was warm, not that dissimilar to what he might have expected outside the walls of Algaria. But it was all wrong, its texture prickly, hot. Not the fine particles of sand blowing outside the now-fallen walls of Algaria. More like ash from a dead fire.

  More figures—djinn—were also floating downward, their arms stretched out like Jiza’s. Each one of them left a faint trail of smoke in its wake, the outlines highlighted with the red tinge he’d seen as he woke up. Kafayos removed his hand, staying beside Shoki as they floated a few yards apart.

  Shoki glanced up. Then, seeing the trail of smoke he was leaving behind as well, he gasped. What in the seven hells was happening?

  His feet landed on solid ground with a soft thump. He turned around. Jiza was striding toward him, her long hair streaming behind her.

  Could he run away?

  Shoki turned the opposite way, then spied Kafayos smirking two paces away.

  Sighing, Shoki cleared his throat. “Alright, I think it might be time for me to visit these… clan chiefs of yours.”

  Jiza’s eyes twinkled. “A wise idea. Follow me!” Motioning him forward with a finger, she turned around and began heading toward a set of distant doors carved in the base of a wide, squat mountain.

  Shoki followed, forcing his eye up and away from the way her hips moved. He knew she was a djinn, one who was somehow complicit in keeping him here against his wishes, yet it wasn’t fair how she could so enthrall his senses. He remembered Nuraya and turned his gaze away.

  Other djinn moved around them, their faces turning to watch as they marched toward the doors Jiza had pointed at. Though Shoki could tell he was attracting attention, unlike in a human city, these djinn didn’t point at him, didn’t gossip like old women with too much time and little better to occupy themselves.

  Shoki blinked. His mind continued to protest the information his sensory organs were feeding it, trying, and failing, to reconcile its interpretations that continued to be at odds with the world around him. The ground, something that should have been solid, felt like a frozen lake with the characteristics of some gelatinous surface with a crust harder than stone. One instant, he’d be skating, and the next, be forced to trudge between steps, the ground seemingly trying to take him somewhere else.

  He was walking, an act his mind understood well, but in reality, he was carrying out the illusion of the deed, doing something… different.

  Shoki raised his right hand and brought it forward. It glowed with the same reddish tinge that seemed to hug the outlines of the other djinn and the towering mountains. He waved his arm, saw the faint smoky trails it left.

  “Jiza,” he called out. “What’s happened to me? My body?”

  The young woman turned her head toward him, not slowing down, her lips parting in a smile. “You’ve been gifted the sight to perceive our world.”

  “Perceive?”

  She nodded, turning away. Shoki pondered her words, Kafayos grunting beside him. Was what he saw truly an illusion then, a way for his senses to make sense of this world?

  Worries of the world he had left behind bubbled up. Where was Nuraya this very instant? Was she keeping away from all the marauding armies that had started harassing travelers recently? Another worrying thought took root in his mind. The djinn lived for centuries. Would his stay here have an impact on the passage of time for him, changing the pace at which it moved here? How much time had passed anyway since his visit to Matli?

  “Jiza—”

  “We’re here!” declared Kafayos, pointing at the doors.

  Shoki swallowed the panic that rushed through him. Hadn't they been a good hundred yards away the last time he had looked at the door? It felt like the distance had contracted without him realizing it.

  Jiza raised a hand toward Kafayos, then opened the doors and stepped inside.

  Shoki wasn’t going to wait for the damned djinn to manhandle him again. He’d had enough. Forcing a false spring into his feet, remembering to keep his chin raised, Shoki followed Jiza through the threshold.

  He gagged, feeling the very weight of the air press against him.

  He was in another circular room, this one much larger than the one he had woken up in. Unlike the first room though, this one contained no windows. Instead, torches hung on the walls every few paces, casting a gloomy, faint reddish hue over the sparse furnishings. Shoki froze, realizing that the flames did not really flicker, seemingly held in place by some unseen power.

  “You’re
here, boy,” drawled a deep voice from the right. A voice Shoki knew well.

  Turning toward the source, Shoki stomped toward Mara. “You piece of djinn dung! Who gave you the permission to—”

  Words escaped him as his eye fell on Mara. The djinn magus sat directly underneath a frozen torch, his features seemingly untouched by the faint glow.

  Four wizened men and women sat around him. Both men were bald and hairless like Mara, their stubby fingers interlaced, their backs leaning against the walls. The women, in contrast, wore simple white robes, their gold earrings large and heavy like Jiza’s.

  “Boy, I understand you might have questions,” said Mara, his voice echoing in the vast chambers. “Need I remind you of the bargain you struck with me?”

  Shoki placed his hands on his hips. “I never thought you’d… you’d just yank me away like this… before I had time to put things into order!”

  Mara exhaled, cracking his knuckles.

  The djinn beside him, his nose bulbous, gray smoke swirling around him like steam escaping from boiling water, glanced at Mara. “Is he going to help us?”

  “He will, Drenpa,” said Mara.

  Refusing to let his fear show, Shoki took a step forward, forcing his voice to remain steady. “You do realize I haven’t quite decided anything yet?”

  “Boy, you’ve changed a great deal since I last saw you—” began Mara.

  “Shoki!” he interrupted.

  “Very well,” said Mara, nodding, his gravelly voice reverberating against Shoki’s chest. “Shoki, now that your actions have bought your world time, you need to help mine.” He leaned forward, his eyes dark under the shadows. “Help Nainwa.”

  Shoki could recall the first time he’d heard the city’s name from Mara. The djinn magus had been masquerading as a scholar roaming the human world to discover a cure for his city. Shoki sucked his teeth, considering his options. It seemed like he had leverage—for the moment anyway. And no matter how weak he felt, these mighty djinn seemed to think he had something to offer them. He ought to press his point, strike a bargain.

  A good, patient, wise negotiator would have milked the moment for all its worth, letting the moment stretch, waiting for the other party to lay bare their weaknesses. Shoki cleared his throat. “What ails your city?”

  Mara exhaled, crossing his arms across his chest.

  The other djinn beside Mara leaned forward. “I’m Namam, a clan leader if you will.” Sparks of a latent fire flashed in his dark eyes. “Our people, unlike yours, are blessed with long lives. A great boon by the Creator. Except, it also means we cannot reproduce as well as your people can. And so, a djinn child has always been a cause for great celebration.”

  Namam hesitated, exchanged a glance with Mara, who nodded as if asking him to continue. “For decades though, we’ve had no births. None. Our population in this city has grown stagnant. A phenomenon that is occurring at the other djinn cities as well.”

  Other djinn cities? Shoki licked his lips, turning his eye toward the females who had kept quiet so far. Jiza and Kafayos stood to either side of him now, no longer making the effort to move their chests to keep up the illusion of breathing.

  “You should never have broken the pact,” hissed Drenpa at Mara. “We are not meant to mix with the others.”

  Shoki rubbed his hands. “I… sympathize, but I don't know what I can do.”

  “You’re an Ajeeb magus,” declared Mara, ignoring Drenpa. “One gifted powers far greater than the Jaman and Zyadi. One who can see past the shroud of darkness to see what lies within. We need you to see what has cursed our people and help us undo it.”

  “Ah,” said Shoki, taking a half step back. “That might be a problem. Um… After my battle—” He clamped his jaw shut. Should he really be giving up his leverage so soon? What use would he be to them if they knew he wasn't what they thought him to be? Once more, he closed his eye for a quick instant, strained to grasp jadu.

  Nothing.

  “Long ago,” said Drenpa, the djinn magus wreathed in smoke, “Afrasiab, one of your brethren, helped our people. And we helped him in kind, setting off against his enemies balls of fire that even he with all his power couldn’t muster.”

  “That’s true,” agreed Namam.

  “A help we’ve extended but only once since,” said Drenpa. “Those who help us, we help in turn. Those who don’t, we never forget.”

  “Shoki,” said Mara. “Will you assist us?”

  Shoki blinked. What in the seven hells was he meant to say here? “Um… First, tell me what’s going on at Algaria. How’s… Princess Nuraya? How go the wars?”

  “The grand vizier has assumed regency in the absence of a sultan,” said Mara. “As for your princess, she is safe and sound.”

  “Ah,” replied Shoki, doing his best to hide the relief upon hearing she was alright. Something snagged at his memory. Something that had nothing to do with the matter at hand, but a concern he couldn't push away now that it had risen to the fore. “I’ve wondered for some time… How come Inquisitor Altamish Aboor couldn't chase us when we escaped him? The inquisitors can detect the residue of magi, can’t they? You wielded jadu yet never really worried about being found by him. Why?”

  Mara smiled. “The inquisitor didn't lie. It has been a long while since his people interacted with the nobler races. They’ve forgotten to counter the way we obfuscate our residue.”

  “Ah,” Shoki replied stupidly, aware he was fast running out of excuses to ward off what they wanted from him. As if reading his mind, Jiza turned her head toward him.

  “Shoki,” said Mara. “The world is different now. Full of magic. Bursting with it, in fact. Even a minor Jaman magus can wield ten times his usual strength. There’s even talk of”—he trailed away, crossing his arms over his chest—“old, banned forms of magic making a comeback. Do you know why that might be?”

  “I…” Shoki stammered, his heart coming to a decision even if his mind disagreed. “I can no longer wield jadu. My powers… are gone.”

  Silence fell. Utter and absolute. One unbroken by breathing or the crackling of fires.

  “We know,” said Mara.

  Shoki felt his eye widen. “You know?”

  “You’re young, boy,” said one of the female djinn, “and so fully capable of underestimating us. But do not think of ever deceiving us!”

  “I… wouldn’t.” He ground his teeth. “If you know I cannot wield jadu anymore, why even keep me around? Why not just let me go?”

  “Nothing in the world is absolute,” said Mara. “Kismet loves change, thrives in chaos. What’s done can be undone.”

  Drenpa laughed mockingly at that.

  Shoki swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  Mara raised a hand toward Jiza. “She will help you. Consider this a sign of our favor to you.”

  “How will she—”

  “We grow tired,” said Drenpa. “You’re of no use at the moment. Go, leave us, until you’ve recovered yourself.”

  Shoki took a step forward. “But I need to get back to Algaria. I demand—”

  He felt a hand settle on his arm. He turned his head. Jiza stood beside him, her unblinking dark eyes unmoving. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 5

  Nuraya

  “In these difficult and unprecedented times, you would be wise to trust the daughter of Istan,” said Nuraya, forcing her voice to remain calm.

  The grim-looking nizam nodded noncommittally, refusing to meet her eyes.

  “Go to your ameer and tell him that the daughter of the Iron Sultan herself has arrived in his province,” said Camsh. “This is an occasion worth celebrating! Just as much as the prophet’s birthday itself.”

  “Very true,” agreed the nizam, still refusing to look her way.

  Nuraya sighed, stretched her legs forward on the old chair they had pulled out for her. Uighar, a landlocked, impoverished province sandwiched between two vastly more populous provinces, wasn't one she had ever imagined traveling
through. Yet, this was where her travels had brought her. Would the local ameer have ever been invited to the diwan-e-khas beyond the yearly gathering organized for all ameers by the sultan?

  An inconsequential province in the middle of nowhere. But one that was still at peace. An oasis of calm. One that could still offer her help.

  “Do you do anything beyond mere nodding?” demanded Ranal, sounding half-amused, half-annoyed. “By Rabb, we have a saying in our area. Never trust two people: a girl who smiles too much, and the man who nods all the time.”

  Jinan, standing beside the well-dressed lordling, scoffed but kept quiet. Nuraya waited half a beat to see if the nizam would say anything more. When he didn't, she turned away toward the tents her men had pitched up.

  They were a good mile away from the town center, surrounded by date orchards on two sides. Tree branches swayed and grass stalks rustled under the gentle afternoon breeze blowing over from a distant river to the east. Had it not been for the snorts of horses and the distant buzz of voices, she could have been enjoying a bucolic afternoon in the countryside—once, the only life she’d ever known.

  Nuraya exhaled. Time was wasting. Another week had come and gone since Camsh had joined them. Since then, they had crossed through two provinces as they continued north. Two provinces whose ameers had refused to greet her. At least, this province’s ameer had sent the local nizam, even if he hadn't come to pay respect in person.

  Ranal was saying something to Camsh. The grand vizier’s son shook his head, his reply respectful but firm. No doubt, the lordling was offering some profound insight he might have heard from somewhere once, but instead of turning him down, Camsh seemed to be gently but emphatically disagreeing.

  Nuraya blinked, taken aback by how much Camsh resembled his father. Third son or not, they both seemed cut from the same cloth. Both shared a quiet demeanor, accompanied by a force of character one dared ignore at their own peril. Looking at Camsh, she seemed to be glimpsing the youth of one Madhu Ghiani, grand vizier to two sultans, now regent during the interregnum.