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The steps of Kahlaran’s qrahr were a little uncertain, and his eyes wandered amazed on the ancient stones of the palace’s basement. He turned a corner and entered a tiny room where two guards smoked. In secret. On duty. It was impossible to say who was more surprised, but the qrahr gathered his dignity and cleared his throat.
“What is the meaning of this?”
The two guards threw the stubs away and straightened up, trying to salvage what they could. “My lord!”
“Is that all you can say?” the qrahr replied, folding his arms. “Back in my day, there were clear laws about guard duty.”
The two guards were about to faint, their knees trembled, and every color ran out of their faces. “Forgive us, my lord. It won’t happen again.”
One of them bit his lip. “Can we offer you—”
I almost burst out laughing as we watched the scene from behind, around a corner, with Adeet and two other beggars from the Ancestral Land. Kherim’s eyebrows rose, then descended, and an annoyed grunt escaped his lips. I had no idea who Kherim was, but Ezair was so pleased with this disguise, I didn’t dare ask.
“I hope to never catch you like this again. But that’s not why I’m here,” he said. “Someone’s planning a break-in to the palace treasury. Make sure they double the guard.”
One of them saluted and immediately ran away.
“I shall return to my post,” the other said.
“Son...” Ezair drawled, probably stealing the tone from Irshan as he approached the other guard and placed his hand on his shoulder. “You’d better stay together. What if the enemy has already entered the palace? You need to protect each other.”
The guard gulped. “You’re right, my lord. As always,” he said and ran after his mate.
Ezair grinned, pulling out the scarf hidden in his jerkin. Chai’s figure appeared like a dancer spinning between the folds of the light fabric, but Ezair hurriedly put his arm around her waist before she could fall.
Adeet stepped away from me with some disapproval on his face.
“I appreciate what you are doing for us, Viper. But I have to ask, have you not managed to come up with an idea that makes it less difficult for us?”
“I had to improvise. Just stay away from the treasury, take everything else. The entire palace is full of valuables,” Ezair said, regaining his original face and brown locks’ mid-sentence, although this time without his headscarf.
“And now?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, we’re not anywhere near our goal. If Tamen’s map is correct, the dungeons are...” he thought for a few seconds before looking over at Chai.
“Three corridors east and one floor down,” she said.
Ezair nodded. “Exactly. Three corridors and then down.”
“Then you should’ve stayed as the qrahr. Maybe you could escort me as a prisoner.”
“I couldn’t risk keeping Chai inside the scarf for too long,” Ezair said. “But that could work. I just hope I’ve made such a mess that no one will ever think about why the qrahr personally escorts a single prisoner.”
“If they ask questions, you can tell them I’m a dangerous djinn.”
“Our part ends here, Viper,” Adeet said, interjecting in our brainstorming. “May luck be with you.”
Two of his beggars had already sneaked onwards, but before joining them, he turned back at us and flung a small vial to me.
“Ah, I almost forgot. If you end up in more trouble than you’re prepared for, smash this against the ground.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, snatching it mid-air. I had to admit that Ezair’s fleeting training was hardly good against trained soldiers, so every little help was welcomed.
We’re on our way, dad. Almost there.
Ezair looked at Chai. She touched his forehead and turned him back into Kherim, then wrapped the scarf around her neck and disappeared. Ezair grabbed it before it fell and held it towards me.
“Maybe it’s best if she’s with you. In case we split up.”
“I doubt I can care for it as you do,” I said in a slightly more cynical tone than I intended, but I wrapped the scarf around my neck. The qrahr didn’t look good in yellow anyway.
Ezair ignored my snarky remark and walked out of the guardroom. The corridor continued straight for a while until it hit a crossroads.
“Try not to look surprised by anyone coming up against you. Remember, you’re a dangerous criminal dragged in against your will.”
“Don’t worry, I know my part. Tie me up or something.”
I obediently put my hand behind and tried to appear huffish.
“That’s unnecessary. It’ll only hold you back if something happens,” Ezair said, grabbing my upper arm firmly. “Stay by the wall and they won’t notice.”
We set off in a calm pace. In all honesty, I’d rather have flown down the stairs, but it would have ruined the whole charade.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea that you came with us, by the way,” Ezair whispered.
I rolled my eyes. “Do you really want to argue now?”
“No, I just... Never mind.”
When we reached the corner, he held me back and looked around the wall.
“I can’t see any—” he started, but then broke off and leaned against the wall before realizing that in Kherim’s disguise, that was a giveaway.
I looked at him surprised. It was weird looking down on him, even if only by a few inches. “What’s the matter? Let’s go, nobody would dare to stop you.”
“It’s easier said than done,” he grumbled and straightened up when a man in a well-adorned uniform turned the corner and looked at us.
“I’d object to that, miss,” he said, glaring at Ezair. His eyes were anything but convinced. “I remember meeting with the qrahr in the palace gardens less than half an hour ago, so I have to ask you who you are.”
Ezair had less than two seconds to recover and revert to his role. “Did the sun fry your head or are you drunk that you do not recognize me, soldier?”
I twirled Adeet’s vial around between my fingers but waited for a moment. I still trusted Ezair to somehow pull ourselves from this mess.
“I’m sorry, my lord, but you’re confusing me. Ever since I joined the Third Regiment, you’ve never been so formal with me and I’ve never seen you escort prisoners personally. But I dare not to insult you, so just say my name, give me an official order and I shall get out of your way. If you know who I am... Lord Kherim,” the man said, bowing his head.
We had messed up. I could tell from his voice. The fake-qrahr raised his eyebrows as he examined the man’s face, staying silent for too long to keep up the play.
“I saw you at the palace. You’re Dharm, captain of the Third Regiment. Some say the next qrahr.”
He squeezed my hand, but I was way ahead of him. I pulled my arm out of his grip and threw the bottle to the ground as hard as I could. A white, mist-like smoke burst forward from the concoction, filling the entire corridor, obscuring vision and dampening every sound.
Ezair moved quickly, but Dharm was even faster. He caught Ezair’s fist aiming for his chin, grabbing his collar and smashing him against the wall.
“I will not ask you again. Who are you?”
His hands were both occupied, so I jumped at the opportunity, pulling his sword and holding it to his neck. “Let him go.”
Dharm smiled. He didn’t turn to me, he just kept squeezing Ezair. “Well, well. The prisoner is livelier than most.”
“I mean it. Let him go, or I’ll chop off your head.”
“Be my guest,” the soldier said.
I took a deep breath, pressing the blade against Dharm’s neck and pulling it back, leaving a tiny streak of blood – then I changed my mind and tried to smash the pommel into his temple instead. This attack was turning into my trademark.
Dharm, however, was in a far better position now than the Viper’s chiefling before. He reacted quickly to the attack, turning to me and grabbing my wrist.
At that point, Ezair’s fist found its way into Dharm’s chin, sending him staggering back. He didn’t give him time to recover: he lunged forward, clutching his fingers around the man’s cheeks, just like on the first day in the alley with the unfortunate soldier, and already pulled a dagger to kill him.
This time, however, something changed.
Ezair’s eyes turned to me for a moment, stopping the blade just before it reached Dharm’s throat.
Dharm made use of the hesitation, and it soon turned into a fistfight. Swift, merciless punches flew every direction as they danced around each other, until Ezair sidestepped his opponent, kicking his knee from behind, then shoulder barging his back, knocking him onto the ground. Before Dharm could recover, Ezair jumped over him, stretching his arms backward.
“Would you do the honors?” he asked, huffing like a horse.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I replied, grabbing the sword with both hands and smashing it down on his head. His skull hit the floor, then Ezair let go of his limp arms.
“I should practice this to use even when you’re not holding my victim down.”
“That’s more difficult than it looks,” Ezair replied, pulling the unconscious body behind a larger pillar, then kept walking as if nothing had happened.
“We should go before someone finds him. I was wrong, by the way.”
“How so?”
“It wasn’t a bad idea for you to come with us. Thank you,” he added with a smile. Sadly, in the qrahr's form, it didn’t quite look the same.
We reverted to our former roles, hoping that we wouldn’t run into any more of Kherim’s close acquaintances. We heard a few running steps from a distance as we passed the corridors and corners, but none noticed us. As we reached the long stairs leading down, Ezair let me go.
“Remind me. How many guards should we encounter?”
“Tamen said two at the top of the stairs and another two down below. I suspect those you scolded for smoking came from here.”
“Makes sense. I can’t see any light down there, and I can’t imagine guards standing around in utter darkness. Stay behind me,” he added, under his breath. I nodded and stepped behind him. We headed down the stairs, carefully putting one foot after the other as everything was covered with a shiny slime. When we reached the absolute bottom, I heard two voices chatting behind the door.
“Fifteen,” a man said.
“Yeah, sure! Fifteen, my ass...” someone replied.
“I’m telling you!” the first persevered.
“Then why did he have... Stop. Shut up, I heard something.”
A latch slid to the side, revealing a peephole and a pair of brown eyes.
“My... my lord?”
Before Ezair could say a word, the guard tried to open the door, rattling the keyring.
The door opened, and Ezair entered, pushing me forward.
“You couldn’t open it any slower even if you tried, son.”
“Forgive me, my lord. We weren’t expecting a visit from the qrahr,” the guard replied, then looked at me. “Who is she, my lord?”
“Don’t worry about it. You have more pressing problems,” he said, then let me go and sprang into action.
He grabbed one halberd by the handle and jerked it downwards, so the blade’s dull face smashed against the other guard’s skull. There was a loud crack, then the unfortunate man fell to the floor, with a bright line of blood dripping from his hair.
The weapon slipped out of the other guard’s grasp. Ezair didn’t give him even a moment to recognize what had happened. He moved to find an even better grip on the halberd, then pushed the sharp end down with all his weight. The other end swung up in an elegant arc, the ornate gold pommel smashed against the guardsman’s jaw and knocked his head back. Ezair pulled the weapon back again and lunged forward to hit the guard straight in the face with the pommel. Thankfully, this was enough to knock him unconscious.
“I wonder whose bright idea was to fit these sad bastards with these,” he said, spinning his looted polearm around before he threw it to the wall. “How could they even move it around?”
“I don’t think they ever expected to use them,” I said.
Ezair shook his head. “That’s why I said you shouldn’t practice using a polearm. It’s a waste.”
As we moved on, we passed more and more vacant cells. Ezair looked inside each and his Kherim-brows frowned with the same fear I had.
“Why are they all empty?”
As my eyes got used to the twilight, I began to look around more carefully, and somewhere in the back of one cell, I glimpsed a balding, gray dome.
“They’re not all empty,” I said, my voice breaking, then ran towards the last cell.
Osmi was lying on the floor in dirty rags, barely more than bones and skin. His clothes were dirty and worn, his hair thinned into basically nothing and there were crusted bruises on his feet, which sent a myriad tiny stab through my throat.
“Dad...” I sobbed. “It’s fine, we’re here now.”
Inspector Rashad stepped out of the shade and looked at me.
“Don’t worry, miss, your guardian’s fine, he’s just tired. Being locked underground for so long is exhausting. But I didn’t suspect to see you here. Or you, my lord,” he said looking at Ezair.
“Oh, yeah, about that...Just a moment,” Ezair said, and snatched the scarf from around my neck, giving it a hasty swing.
Chai looked around, confused and grabbing onto Ezair’s shoulder, but when her eyes met Rashad, she bowed politely.
“Greetings. I guess it’s time to end this play.”
Ezair nodded, so Chai touched his forehead and gave him back his own guise.
“Dad, wake up!” I shouted forgetting where we were for a moment. My old man winced and raised his head towards us, shifting his eyes from me to Ezair and Chai.
“Zaira? What... How?”
“Everything’s fine. We’re getting you out of here. Did you snatch a key from the guard? Or Chai will burst open the lock?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Chai said, stepping to the cell door, uncovering a simple rose quartz hemisphere jewel at her neck. She put it on the lock and twirled it around with great care, but I had no idea what she was doing.
Rashad, meanwhile, made eye contact with his nephew and reached out to him through the bars.
“Ezair...” he began in a deep voice. Ezair approached him with a faint smile and reached through the bars to grab the man’s shoulder.
“Don’t get emotional now, uncle.”
Rashad’s fingers slid over the mercenary’s collar, then suddenly yanked him toward himself, softly knocking his head against the iron bars. “How can you be such a moron? Who raised you like this? What were you thinking?”
“Calm down, Inspector. So far, we’re good, and no one’s even dead. We have a plan for everything. Just let Chai work,” I said.
“That is an overstatement, miss. He has already killed half a dozen men just a few days ago. Even worse, now he involved the two of you. Breaking into the palace, breaking out someone imprisoned on a princely order, pretending to be the qrahr of the province, it’s a miracle...” His voice started breaking up, his hands let go of Ezair’s collar and slid down to his shoulders. “It’s a miracle you’re... I’m glad you’re alive, Ezair.”
“Now-now, what did I just say about being emotional? You knew I'd come.”
“I did, yet I hoped you’d just move on. It would have been easier.”
“Easier for you,” Ezair said, frowning. “How are we, Chai?”
“It’s done,” Chai declared, taking a step back from the door.
Ezair let Rashad go and opened the cell. “Then it’s time to leave. Lord Kherim’s cover was useful, but I’m not sure it’s almighty. We’d better just run.”
“Only if you carry my dad, or ask Chai to bring him into the scarf,” I said.
Chai shook her head. “Sadly, that’s not a possibility.”
Ezair just nodded and walked up to Osmi. “Please, Master, if you have any strength left, hold on,” he said and turned his back on him, letting the old man grab his shoulders. Chai wrapped her arm around my neck and disappeared into the scarf, letting the soft yellow fabric fall over me.
“We should go,” Ezair said, then started rushing towards the stairs before he realized Rashad wasn’t following us. “Uncle, we have to go!”
“No, Ezair. You have to go.”
Ezair just turned around and walked up to the inspector with two agitated steps. “You’ll be executed, do you realize that?”
“I do.”
“Charta put you in jail, wants to behead and bury you in line with traitors and murderers because someone set you up. No one knows you better than I do, but now is not the time to prove your loyalty to the prince.”
“Not to the prince. To Kahlaran.”
“By letting them behead you?” I said in shock. “Believe me, it proves nothing. If you die, you’ll only give the Marid what he wants. Come with us and help!”
Rashad shook his head. “I’m helping you now. I know you don’t understand, but you will. Go.”
“As if!” Ezair grunted, planting his feet at the cell door. “It’s you who doesn’t understand, uncle. You didn’t see what we endured. You didn’t see what we sacrificed for this. I’m not turning back now.”
I could only agree with him. I had seen more in the last week than all the years before. I had strived and tried together with them, and now the inspector made it all a waste with a single word.
From a distance, I could hear soldiers rushing towards us.
“Ezair. We’ve got to hurry.” I looked at Rashad, trying to penetrate the pride. “I hope you’ll think the same when the sea and fire flood this city.”
The inspector didn’t answer, only looked at his nephew calmly. “You need to go, Ezair. Take care of them.”
“I should take care of you, too! I’m here to save you, just like you saved me.”
Ezair’s voice sounded desperate, and all of a sudden, he burst into tears. Rashad put his arm around him and whispered something into his ear. Ezair froze in place, but the steps kept coming.
“Go.”
We had to decide. If we stayed to reason with Rashad, we would have ended up just like him, and all we had fought for would have crumbled into dust. It made my stomach churl, but I had to be cruel one last time. If the inspector was hell-bent on staying, I had to bring my father out of here at least.
I grabbed Ezair’s wrist and pulled him towards the stairs, meanwhile handing Dharm’s sword over to him. “You said you were better with a sword. I’ll take the dagger.”
Ezair just floundered after me for a while, until Rashad’s figure faded behind us, but he got fiercer with each step. He started running so fast I could barely keep up with him, even without having to carry an old man on my back.
We met the first guard around a corner, but he was just as surprised, stopping and pointing his halberd at us.
“Halt!”
Ezair stopped as if he was complying with the order, letting Osmi slip down from his back.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to manage on your own,” he whispered.
“What are you planning?”
“Taking care of you,” he hissed through gritted teeth, slipping out of his jerkin.
“Wait, what are you—” the guard asked but he was interrupted. Ezair threw his coat at the already edgy guard, who instinctively tried to skewer it with his halberd. Ezair used this moment to dodge him, then grabbed hold of the weapon and smashed his knee into the guard’s stomach.
The guard collapsed on the ground. Ezair yanked the halberd from him and swung it into his face, then again with more fervor. Bone cracked and the weapon’s shaft was stained with red, but the most frightening was the predatory look on Ezair’s face.
When the next pair of guards rushed into the corridor, halberds pointing straight at him, he whirled his weapon around and lunged forward.
Using the spike of the halberd to hook both enemy weapons, Ezair jerked the two heavy blades to the side. He was already too close before they could raise them again, breaking both their noses with the shaft.
They staggered to the wall from the pain, crouching to protect themselves, but out of nowhere, a fourth man came running towards us.
This one was smarter and threw the polearm away, pulling out a short-sword instead.
“I’ll keep them busy. Go, bring your father out,” Ezair said, throwing the halberd to the side.
“Don’t even think about going back.”
“I won’t. There’s no reason.”
He picked up another sword from the floor and swung both blades towards the fourth guard. The clashing of blades filled the corridor, but it ended when Ezair booted his opponent against the wall.
I saw the opportunity and took it, dragging Osmi with me. I spotted more guards rushing towards us, but Ezair waved his blades around and charged at them. Swords clashed against each other and painful cries followed, but I didn’t look back. I just ran as fast as my old man allowed.
Two muscular arms grabbed me in the next opening, and I instinctively tried to kick at my assailant, before I recognized Adeet and his friendly smile. “Worry not, girl. All will be well from now on. Come, I shall help.”
“Thank the storm... Dad, this is Adeet, he’s a friend.”
The alchemist propped the old man up with one of his long arms under his shoulder. “A pleasure meeting you. Come, let us go.”
“I have to wait for Ezair...” I said, looking back at the sound of a battle.
“You can wait upstairs. Two from the Ancestral Land are yet to arrive. They shall bring the Viper back.”
I begrudgingly agreed, following Adeet to the exit. We marched all the way to the bottom of the ruins, then climbed a level up a rickety wall where a couple of beggars helped us up through a hole.
“Please come with me,” Adeet said, turning to my dad. “I can offer you some cordial while your girl waits for her friend.”
Osmi looked at me with uncertainty.
“You can trust them,” I said. “They owe me, just like you taught.”
The old man laughed, but his voice was hoarser than the desert. “You’re a good girl, Zaira.”
Seeing them walk away into the safety of Adeet’s home took a huge weight off my chest, but not all. Neither of us was getting our old life back, and all I could hope was that Nazrik would help my old dad.
I looked back through the hole. Ezair was running late. I considered going back for him every other moment, but so far my common sense got the better of me.
After a minute dragging on for an eternity, I heard footsteps. The two beggars Adeet had taken with him to plunder the palace were visibly in an awful shape, and their faces showed dread and foreboding unlike any I’ve seen before.
“Adeet... Where’s Adeet? This guy is mad!” one of them cried out as they climbed up from the tunnel, and rushed by me without a chance for me to say anything.
Enough was enough. I jumped down the hole and started running back, only to run into a slow, shambling Ezair moments later.
He was covered in blood. It glued his shirt to his skin, it dripped from a few locks of hair, and it stained the twitching sword in his hand. There was only a single cut two inches below his left eye, so at least it wasn’t his blood.
Ezair’s gait was uncertain and cramped, his head drooped, his eyes turning to me without the spark of recognition when he heard my steps. His grasp tightened around the sword and he put one leg forward as if he was about to lunge at me.
“Ezair!” I shouted, stopping immediately. “It’s me. I won’t hurt you.”
It took him a moment to recognize me, but I broke through the haze. The darkness in his eyes dissipated, some vague, translucent emptiness taking its place. I staggered back for a moment, but I walked up to him and hugged him, ignoring the filth.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I didn’t know how I could help him, what I could say to ease the pain dragging him down.
“He said...” he muttered, then fell silent.
“What did he say?”
The hot-headed, reckless but always-ready Ezair bent forward to the ground and for the first time since our brief acquaintance started sobbing with real, overwhelming sorrow in his heart.
“My uncle said he’s proud of me.”