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I’m proud of you, Ezair.
Ezair was lying on the floor in his room, the headscarf sloppily sliding off his hair while his eyes wandered back and forth between the cracks in the ceiling.
The floorboard pressed uncomfortably against his back, the gold-fringed edge of the wool carpet bulged at his waist, but he couldn’t feel it at all. He didn’t feel, he didn’t think, he didn’t want anything, he just stared at the ceiling.
His mind kept throwing Rashad’s last words at him again and again, like a runaway leaf in the sandstorm, hitting his skull and rebounding, depriving him of even a moment of peace. It kept any other thought out, until he finally stood up, throwing his shawl on the bed.
Why did he let him? Why did he freeze, why did he accept it so fast?
He walked up to the window, leaning hard on the ledge, only to immediately push himself away and walk back to his bed. He wanted to jump out, run away like he did when he was a kid.
You defended my honor, as family should.
Ezair wasn’t a kid anymore. He knew it wouldn’t do anything. It solved nothing the last time he fled. He ran away because he refused to be someone’s heir, had trampled his unearned legacy into the dust, only to find himself on the streets.
But the street was not his, either.
Anything he had, he took from someone else, without decency. He hadn’t lived on because he deserved it, because he was strong, fast, or smart – only because others were worse, less fortunate, and less prepared. He couldn’t live like that. He didn’t need Rashad to realize that. He wasn’t a good heir and he wasn’t a good thief. Maybe he wasn’t good for anything.
Ezair’s eyes emptied as he raised his dagger in front of his face, running his eyes over the snake scratched into the blade.
“Fine,” he whispered. “Let’s see who is it up to, really.”
***
“An Ramash?”
I just nodded, fixing the corner of Osmi’s long coat. “Find the Fourth Wish lamp shop. I know the owner, he’ll help.”
Osmi climbed up onto the horse, but he didn’t look any less confused.
“Take care of yourself, Master,” Sheen said, standing beside me and handing Osmi his bag. I don’t know how much she heard of our plans, but she already packed up by the time we got back from the palace.
Osmi stroked my head. “All right, dear. We’ll be waiting for you there, but please hurry.”
I wanted to hug him again, but then the whole procedure of getting onto the horse would have started again and I would have never let him go. Instead, I just waved him goodbye and watched teary-eyed as the little figure rode out of the yard and disappeared into the street.
Sheen put an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t cry, Zee. You’ll see him again in no time. I’m not saying I’m not going to be mad when you leave, but seeing the world might do you some good.”
I just wiped my eyes and tried to smile, less than successfully. She didn’t know. She couldn’t have. The deal that made this possible already sealed my fate and Arjun Sikdar already told me what would have happened if I strayed from it.
For once, there weren’t many guests in the Lotus, so the girls insisted that I stay downstairs to talk. They all tried their best to make me feel a tiny bit better, but eventually, I had to excuse myself and leave.
When I went back to my room, a soft, purring present awaited me on a pillow. It seemed Aylea wasn’t content with just the supplies I promised her, so she had snatched my poor cat as well. At least she hadn’t ended up on the streets, and I was sure the girls loved her.
However, even she couldn’t get my mind from the image of a bloodied, broken Ezair without any warmth or kindness. Ever since we had departed the Ancestral Land, he had seemed like a lunatic. Not that I blamed him. We had done everything in our power, and we failed, right at the last minute.
Exhaustion finally got the better of me and I fell asleep on the bed fully clothed, but only got a few hours of sleep. When I woke up it was dawn already, the eastern horizon burning with an orange hue. Ezair was probably still asleep, but I couldn’t rest any longer, I had to see how he was.
I got up and walked to his room. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should wake him up, but gathered my courage to knock. “Ezair? Are you awake?”
There was no answer. Maybe he really was asleep, so I knocked a little louder. Again, I got nothing. I swung the door open, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.
All his belongings were in place, his headscarf lying on the bed. It was possible he hadn’t bothered putting it back on last night, but I couldn’t imagine him going anywhere without it. Not the Ezair I knew.
I quickly wrapped his scarf around my wrist and ran over to Chai’s room, banging on her door like a madman. “Chai!”
There was no answer, but when I tried it, the door was unlocked. Chai was sitting on the bed with her back straight, biting her lip and folding her hands like she tried to hold back tears. “Za... ira...”
I ran up to her, clutched her shoulders, and forced her to face me. “Chai? What happened?”
She bit her lip again and shook her head. “He didn’t say... He didn’t tell me what he wanted...”
Fuck.
“Where did he go? Did he say that?”
I was more abrupt than I should have been, but Chai was visibly in shock. A strange grimace ran across the girl’s face as if she were about to sob again, but she clenched her fist and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Ezair said he had a plan, but he couldn’t tell me about it. We got into a quarrel, and then... I agreed.”
“Agreed to what? What did he want from you?”
“To use the medallion again. But he wasn’t... himself. There was something in his eyes, Zaira. Something I never expected from Ezair.”
“What was that? Chai, this is important. He didn’t want us involved because he knew we’d never let him do whatever he planned.”
Chai, the most powerful person I knew looked up to me with fear in her eyes. “It was surrender. No defiance, no resentment, not even desperation. He just accepted what was to come.”
I tried to keep out the image of Ezair rushing towards his doom, and think about the next step.
“We must find him. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”
Chai shook her head. “I didn’t see whose disguise he wore. I only saw the rough shape of a woman before he disappeared. But I’m afraid... I’m afraid that...”
***
Chai didn’t know what to do. Sometimes she would get up and walk towards the door, then she would back away and fall to her bed.
What could she even say to him? That it would be all right, that everything was fine? Or that she was sorry? All were nonsense, and she knew it would take much more to pull the mercenary from the deep void he had fallen into. Ezair was beyond comforting. The only thing that could snap him out of melancholy was something that spurred him onward. Like last time, when Asha Roasin died and Zaira almost held them by the hand and dragged them further down the road. A road where Ezair felt he could run and fight.
Chai envied the yann. She was always the silent helper, the one who fixed things from the background. She never had the courage to take the initiative. She just tried to be useful, but she had failed to help the only one she truly wanted to.
She sighed, her fingers clenching around the soft fabric of her dress. One of her nails even ripped a tiny hole in it.
No. She would help him. She’d be there to comfort him, or suffer with him until he crawled out of the pain on his own.
Chai almost jumped up from the bed, limping to the door, finally making up her mind – but she was late. The door creaked and slowly opened, Ezair standing behind it with a strange coolness.
“E... Ezair...” Chai’s lips hardly managed to form words. The air felt cold, her shoulders had goosebumps and her breath froze. Ezair stood and watched for a few moments before he spoke.
“Chai. I’m sorry to barge in on you, but I have something to ask.”
Chai hastily stepped to the side. Her heart was pounding fast, she only hoped her body wouldn’t tremble so hard that he would notice. “Don’t feel sorry, come in.”
Ezair walked in and sat on the end of Chai’s bed with measured, almost artificial moves, and looked up with an alien look that frightened her.
She had no idea how to comfort Ezair, so she just sat down beside him.
“Chai...” Ezair began, apparently having difficulty finding the right words. He closed his eyes and his features smoothed out. “I’d like you to use Nazrik’s medallion on me.”
Chai’s arched brows rose and sank back in total puzzlement. Ezair undoubtedly had a plan, but his eyes... The swirling golden eyes that usually shined with a warm, playful light did not reflect fire and passion this time. That wasn’t the Ezair Chai knew.
“Why?” she asked, overcoming the urge to touch the jewel hanging around her neck. She hadn’t even had time to change since they got back.
“I have a plan,” Ezair said.
“A plan? I think I need a bit more to help if...”
“I can’t tell you,” he said, cutting her off. “No one must know about it. Not you, not Zaira. That’s the only way it can work.”
Several nightmarish scenarios flashed in Chai’s mind, each one worse than the other. In the few days she had known him, she had begun to understand Ezair’s way of thinking.
“If I don’t know what you want, I can’t help you.”
“Chai.” Ezair turned to her with such a temper she almost hoped the cold had left him, but she was disappointed. The brittle, empty eyes didn’t change.
“We have little time. You know they will execute my uncle today. We can’t save him, we can’t get justice for him, but there’s one thing I have to do. I’d like to tell you, but believe me, I can’t. Why can’t you trust me?”
The question hit something in her heart, something she had never known was there.
“You don’t get to ask me that,” she shouted. “Ever since I saw you, all I ever think of is how could I help you, how could I protect you from every pain and danger. I followed you through the desert, even to the bowels of the earth. Why do you think I did all that?”
Ezair’s head slumped down. He suffered the harsh words in silent contemplation as if he had foreseen it for a long time. No one was more important to Chai than herself, ever. No one until a rash mercenary boy burst into her life with a frustrated djinn on his side. He had snatched her heart without asking, torn it out, and taken it with him.
“Ever since you walked in here, I’ve been trying to help you understand how important you are, and now you expect me to blindly go into something that might be dangerous to you. And after that, you dare ask me if I trust you?”
There was no stopping. She wanted to flog Ezair with her words as long as it took, to calm him down. So she could trust him.
I love you, Ezair. Don’t ask me to do this.
“At least tell me what you’re trying to do,” she asked, struggling with her tears.
“There’s someone I need to talk to. Ask things Ezair can’t. Fragile truths that are skewed even by my presence,” he replied.
Chai just took a deep breath. That was better than she expected, even though she only guessed who Ezair wanted to talk with. But she made up her mind. She was going to help Ezair, even though it hurt.
Her fingers found the chain of the pendant. Chai stretched out her mind in the way that only a mejai could until her spirit touched the magic swirling around her. Her concentration was only interrupted for a moment – when the stiff lips touched hers.
Ezair’s shape changed, Chai felt the subtle trembling of magic through the kiss, but she couldn’t open her eyes. By the time she realized that Ezair had moved away from her, she could already hear the door squeak. She could only get a glimpse of a wide waistline and narrow, dainty shoulders as a figure left the room. And by the time she realized what she had done, she was alone with her tears.
***
I took hold of Chai’s shoulders. I couldn’t allow her to crumble, because I needed her. I understood what was going through her mind and it terrified me, too. I was dizzy and could barely breathe, but we had to act before it was too late.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. We will make it fine; we just have to figure out what his plan is. When’s the execution? Worst-case scenario, we’ll catch him there.”
Chai looked out the window. “Maybe in an hour, or two at best.”
“Stay here. I’ll go to the Desert Wind first, see if Irshan knows anything.”
“No. Not Irshan. If anyone knows where Ezair is...”
I looked at the girl confused before I realized who she meant. “Do you think... Fine. Where do you suppose Hain is?”
It made sense that Ezair would take our advice to make up with his supposed best friend, or maybe he just planned on using him or tying up any unfinished business they had. I might have had a chance to convince Hain to help me.
“He could be anywhere. Even the Vipers won’t know unless they’re watching all their members from a bird’s-eye view.”
In a sudden epiphany, the word struck me like a bolt of lightning. “Bird’s-eye view! That’s it! I know how to find him. If Ezair comes back... Knock him out with a spell or something.”
I hugged Chai tightly and darted through the Lotus and out onto the streets. I hoped Adeet would be happy to see me because I needed his help again.
I pushed innocent bystanders aside, jumping over crates and tables until I nearly hit the wall I was looking for. It seemed just as ordinary as last time, but I didn’t let it fool me. I climbed through the window and sat down on top of the slide, letting the dark void swallow me once again.
Two unfamiliar beggars gathered around the lower end, crouching around a dim fire cooking something in a bronze pot. When they realized they had a visitor, one of them grabbed a crude stick, and the other pulled a large knife from his belt. “Well well, it’s raining really weird things nowadays.”
I rolled my eyes. Same old shit again, like it was a mandatory joke they just had to make every time. “Guys, we don’t have time for this. I need to talk to Adeet right now.”
The two men looked at each other. One of them scratched his head in his confusion, but I spotted the tiny, stout man behind them, the one who had tried to snatch me with his taller friend, and escorted us to their boss. He seemed to have spotted me as well because he tried to sneak away without making a sound.
“Hey, you there,” I shouted, unable to recall the guy’s name. “You know me. Tell these idiots to let me see Adeet.”
He sighed. “Listen, miss, when we meet each other, it’s always bad for both of us. Will you be content with us letting you find him on your own?”
I nodded. “Perfectly. Thank you. Can I go now?” I said, looking at the other two, but the whole thing still baffled them.
My new friend whistled at them.
“Boys, your tea’s burning,” he said, poking his chin towards the tub. The two almost jumped to save that foul-smelling something. “You’re good to go, miss. Have a nice day,” the stout man said, and even bowed.
I ran to the tower like an arrow. I didn’t knock, just barged in on the unsuspecting alchemist sitting behind a glass structure made up of long, variously-shaped tubes and flasks.
He looked up at me with a warm smile. “Ah, Irshan’s daughter. You return so soon?”
I smiled back at him, but that was more politeness than sincerity. “I promised, didn’t I? But first, I really need your help. I need to find Ezair before he gets in trouble.”
“Ah, Ezair. The young, pointy-toothed Viper who bites before he asks. Who would have guessed he attracts trouble?” Adeet stood up and walked towards me. “Let’s go find him then.”
“That’s not so easy, he’s... not himself at the moment. I need to find Irshan’s son. I mean his real, by the blood son. I hope he’s not wearing a headscarf or a hat... If I’m right, it won’t be hard with the mirrors above.”
“Oh, little Hain. You know, he was merely a child when I first saw him.”
“Everyone’s adorable as a kid, I guess...” I muttered, following him, almost leaping up every second step.
Adeet pulled the levers and the tricky device awoke, painting the miniature view of Kahlaran from above, with people buzzing on the streets on their way to the market or the port, without a hint of what was going on behind the scenes.
“Do you prefer to find him yourself or are you in a hurry?”
“Let’s do it together,” I said, scouring the streets and the mass of people, looking for the blond locks. Adeet nodded and pulled one lever after the other.
The picture changed quickly, almost merging into a single mass, as did the faceless crowd of people. We looked through every street, every rooftop, the harbor, the city’s outskirts, and inner districts, but Hain was nowhere to be found.
***
Sitting in place tied to a well for the fourth day in a row wasn’t one of the most comfortable things, and as much as he made it easy for himself, Hain’s legs were cramped. He tugged his wrist with little hope, but the ropes still wouldn’t give way, just like the Divine knows how many times before. The Vipers knew how to stop him from escaping.
The sun climbed higher and higher, illuminating an ever-larger corner of the square while the shadows slowly receded. It didn’t take long for Kahlaran’s main square to become a cavalcade of unbearable sunlight and lurching masses of men.
He felt pathetic. The neighborhood’s urchins couldn’t be fooled forever into bringing him water and stolen bread for his stories, and for the last twenty hours, Hain hasn’t eaten anything. His clothes turned into rags: the back of his shirt was little more than a network of linen threads, his trousers reeked of his own piss, and three days of dust had made him almost unrecognizable.
Hain let his head fall back against the stone, closed his eyes, and listened to the flowing water deep in the well behind him.
“I never thought I wouldn’t envy you at some point,” someone said.
Hain opened his eyes and tried very hard to make sure nothing showed his surprise. “I thought you were dead.”
The woman in front of him put her hands on her hips. “I admit it never occurred to me that you knew my face. It seems I ran many unnecessary laps.”
Hain shook his head. “I don’t get it. And for that, I applaud you. It happens so rarely.”
“I know.”
The woman settled down in front of him, apparently without regret about the dust getting on her clothes. He could imagine plenty of reasons for this woman to come find him, but all of them were highly unlikely.
“What do you want from me?”
“To talk.”
“A woman never wants to just talk with me, especially when my hands are tied. If you want to slit my throat, I’d suggest you hurry, because I’m about to die of thirst.”
“You’d deserve it,” she said, but then Hain noticed something in the green eyes that piqued his interest.
“You say that, but you don’t mean it, do you? Why do you look so in doubt?”
“When did you start asking the questions?” she replied.
“Well, you ask, then. Or answer my question, because I’m still no less confused: what do you want from me?”
The curved lips pressed together so tightly that Hain thought he would never get an answer, but then she sighed and looked into his eyes. “You know that the family member of your friend will be executed in a few hours?”
A shadow crept up on the cold-blue irises as Hain narrowed his eyes.
“Few people know that better than I do. Maybe only you, if you’re still who you are.”
The woman’s face melted into silent sadness, the edge of her lips sagged, and her eyelids gave her blurry gaze a soft arch. “Why did you do it, Chief?”
“Why do you care? Why did you? Why do I need more reason than you?”
Hain jerked the ropes again in anger, but they held and only a jolt of pain struck him. The woman touched her neck as if she were looking for a piece of jewelry that wasn’t there, pinching it with her fingers and pulling it over her head.
“Because you’re my friend.”
Ezair Hazra’s figure was only visible for a moment before the round pendant hanging around his neck fell back, disappearing again in the woman’s camouflage.
Hain laughed, which quickly turned into a dry cough. “That’s a useful piece of jewelry, Aspis. Did the Silken Witch give it to you?”
At other times, Hain would have enjoyed the angry surprise sitting on the woman’s face, but right now he couldn’t enjoy anything.
“You haven’t answered yet.”
“What do you expect me to say? What do you want me to explain?” Hain replied, leaning as far forward as his ropes allowed him.
“Tell me what makes someone betray their brother–”
“Why don’t you ask yourself that?” Hain lashed out, not even waiting for Ezair to finish the question. His cold eyes were smoldering now, and the fury suddenly bursting forth from him made the woman take a step back.
“Who betrayed you, Ezair? You don’t see the bigger picture. You’ve never seen it. That’s why you and I were together. Always us two. You were faster, sure. More skilled, more headstrong. And I never wanted to hold you back. You didn’t threaten me for a second, because you’re just the wind, the storm blowing through the desert. And a storm is nothing without the direction it moves.”
Ezair’s eyes lit up with anger visible even through the illusion, the kind that heralded great follies. Hain didn’t care. He didn’t see Aspis, the fastest hand of the Two-Headed Viper, the legendary swordsman with skills unmatched. He only saw Ezair, his friend.
“I drew a path for you. You and I have achieved everything we’ve planned so far. And now you and I could have achieved what this empire has dreamed of for a thousand years. We could have done away with the princes, the wars, the divisions. Can’t you see it, Ezair? See Seiran? Our kingdom, united as one? Because I’ve seen it, and it’s worth every sacrifice.”
“No. It isn’t,” Ezair said, his words almost lost in Hain’s outburst. “Not everything. Not my uncle, not innocent lives. And not Zaira.”
“Your uncle...” Hain’s monologue suddenly stopped, giving way to a sore cough. He only shook his head. “He shouldn’t have gotten involved. Rashad is a good man who deserves to see the new world. But he got stuck in this mess, and I couldn’t do anything.”
“You couldn’t?” The woman’s lips trembled as Ezair approached him. It was clearly the mercenary’s muscles that grabbed the neck of Hain’s ragged shirt, not the slim, feminine arms. “You couldn’t? I’ve known you for seven years, Hain. I know exactly what you can and can’t do. My uncle is waiting for the hangman because you didn’t want to. You’d rather serve djinns and intriguing snakes, sell everything worth something just because someone blinded you with a tale!”
“This is not a tale. This is real, and yes, it’s cruel. Because we live in a world where the intrigue of snakes and spirits can decide the fate of a good man. I was going to do something about it. Not just for this once, but for forever. But you chose, and your choice wasn’t me. If you’re interested in what makes someone betray their friend for strangers... Ask yourself.”
Hain’s voice died down and he just smiled, resigned to anything that was to come.
Ezair let him go.
“I’m here... I came to you to give you a chance. So we can clear everything up one last time. So I can forgive you and you can forgive me.”
“Oh, no. Don’t even dream about that. We’re both going to pay for this, Aspis. You and me. There’s no easy way out of this. This isn’t our last meeting.”
The woman walked past him, past the edge of the well, and for a moment he thought their conversation was over. He heard a slash from behind, and his wrists fell towards the ground as the ropes let go. Ezair walked back in front of him, throwing his dagger into the dust between Hain’s ankles.
“I think it’s yours, chief. I can’t claim it anymore, because you’re right. We’ll both pay. One of us sooner than the other.”
With that, Asha Roasin, the simple street thief, killer of Saleel and Sethia Aarif mingled into the resurgent crowd.
Hain spent a long time looking at the dagger. Partially because his arms and legs were in no condition to get him back on his feet, but mostly because his thoughts were numb and slow.
He blamed the past few days for everything and obstinately avoided realizing that he had lost a war of words for the first time in his life, so much so it pinned him to the ground. He tried to swallow, but all he managed was a pathetic attempt.
What were the chances they’d strangle him in the Desert Wind if he asked for a cup of water?
***
Suddenly, as if he heard my thoughts from a distance, a man stepped out into the streets with the blond, almost white hair I was looking for. “There! Where exactly is that?”
“East of here, towards the market square. A few minutes, if you are willing to run,” Adeet said.
“I’m more than willing. Thank you, Adeet, I’ll make it up to you!” I said, rushing down the stairs almost stumbling. He hadn’t asked for anything, but there wasn’t a single thing I wouldn’t have given to him for this.
I ran so hard I could barely breathe, first up the stairs, and then, as I emerged from the crumbling house into the sun, I continued running towards the market. The crowd got bigger and bigger, making things quite difficult. It was mostly servants and housewives trying to buy the latest catch or exotic goods as cheap as possible, but to me, it looked like the entire world was conspiring against me. I shoved people aside, trying to find the one person who could help me.
“Hain!” I shouted. It was better if he heard me and saved me the blind search through a sea of faces.
No matter how hard I kept looking, I couldn’t spot him. Not a sign. Was I approaching the market from the wrong side? Or was he gone?
All of a sudden, long fingers clutched around my wrist – or more precisely, around Ezair’s shawl. “Are you looking for the perfect ending, Zaira?”
I turned to the Chiefling and pulled my arm from his grip, ignoring the strangely burning sensation left by his touch. He looked leaner than last time, but his hair was dripping with water, and his clothes were clean. Not like someone who spent days next to a well.
“That ship’s gone. Now it’s just the least bad one. Ezair is gone.”
“Oh, he’s not gone, he’s just stupid. And you know exactly where he’s going, you just don’t dare think about it,” he replied, grabbing my wrist again. I didn’t pull my hand away this time. If that’s how he wanted to play, I would’ve run around the beach holding hands with him, if it brought us closer to a solution.
“We don’t have time for these games. Will you help or not?”
“You know Ezair isn’t Ezair right now, right?”
“Chai told me. The question is, how do you know about it, Chiefling?”
A surprised tingle ran through his face from the nickname, but luckily, he didn’t get stuck on that little detail. “Does it matter?”
“It matters. Because you can only know from him, and in that case, you know more.”
“You’re asking the wrong questions,” he said, shaking his head. “If Ezair isn’t himself, who could he be? That would’ve been a better one. Aspis is sometimes dumb as dirt, but has a knack for finding the shortest way, sometimes at the cost of his own suffering.”
“Okay, enlighten me. What did he do?”
The Chiefling seemed to love riddles, wordplay, educating people, and plain making fun of me, but I was willing to put up with it because it was my best chance.
“The thing is, Rashad Hazra is going to be executed according to the Marid’s plan unless you put out your own neck instead of his. That would be the intended outcome. The Court of Fire would get what it wants, we’d get the Court of Fire and with them, Kahlaran. But it doesn’t have to be your neck. It’s enough for someone to confess. Someone the people of the Treasurer’s household would recognize. His son, for example. According to Ezair, that would put an end to this.”
The blood froze in my veins.
“He can’t be that stupid...”
He loved Rashad, and he failed to save him twice now. If he thought that would save him, he’d gladly put his own neck in his uncle’s place.
“We have to save him.”
“Good luck with that,” Hain said, and let go of my hand.
“Wait. You’re not coming?”
“Ezair made his decision. So did I. If he’s stupid enough to put his head under the...” Hain shook his head. “No matter. But time is running out for you. How do you save him if he’s already awaiting his fate on the rack?”
I turned around and ran without a word towards the main square. My hair was dripping with sweat and my muscles burned in agony, but I had to ignore those. I prayed for Tamen to see through this and stop Ezair’s idiocy.
***
Ezair knelt in front of the palace, waiting and looking at the figures forged into the iron fence. According to Rashad, they were Kahlaran’s great heroes – princes and generals, nobles, and other memorable figures.
There wasn’t a single mercenary, a single craftsman, or alchemist among them. The palace only remembered the rich. He wondered for a moment whether he could have appeared on the fence if he stayed with his father, as the great qrahr Ezair, or Treasurer Hazra. But no. That wouldn’t have been him.
Ezair wasn’t himself in any role. He wasn’t a noble heir, but he wasn’t a street kid either.
His eyes caught movement from the palace. Out of the gate marched a dozen guards and a shirtless prisoner in handcuffs. Ezair saw neither Charta nor Arjun Sikdar, which almost made him swear out loud. One less good deed before it was over.
He hid deeper among the branches of the neglected hedge as they passed him, resisting the urge to attack the guards, grab his uncle, and carry him all the way to An Ramash. That was why he couldn’t be a mercenary anymore.
A mercenary is as cold as the steel blade he wields, a sentiment with which both Hain and Chief Irshan agreed, but he never had. Of course, they also argued that a respectable warrior would abide by the rules of his own honor, but stupid self-sacrifice did not fit into that.
“And who’s paying you? I mean, this time. It’s hard to believe that a member of a notorious mercenary team would act on his own, completely free of charge.”
“Why? Even a mercenary loves his family, and injustice hurts everyone.”
That time, he had convinced Zaira, but he never quite convinced himself. He wanted to be a good sellsword, but at the last moment, he danced back and chose his family.
The palace guards had moved away, and Ezair emerged from the bushes. For a moment, he glanced at his wrist where the wide silver bracelet was supposed to be, but he knew he didn’t deserve it. Hain was right. He had betrayed them.
The square wasn’t far away. As he followed the soldiers, there was already a small crowd waiting for them. Enough people for Ezair to blend in and slip between without hindrance.
Getting up the stairs was impossible. Three soldiers stood there with halberds and short swords, and two more were at the very top next to Rashad. Next to them, on the edge of the platform, three lords were seated. One was a priest sending the soul of the dead on his final journey, and one was a Kahlarani general who was supposed to represent the law.
The third was the victim’s only living relative, Kahlaran’s new treasurer, Tamen Aarif. Ezair’s face was filled with sadness as he saw the boy in the chair, and there was some pride as he noticed Tamen inspecting the guards and Rashad’s handcuffs.
Leave it to me, young master. You don’t need to trouble yourself with that.
The front of the podium—a couple of thick wooden columns reinforced with crossed beams—was easy to climb, but three soldiers guarded it, trying to hold back the crowd. Only three. For a fighter like Ezair, it was nothing. All he had to do was ensure that the remaining four slowly patrolling the crowd didn’t spot him before it was too late.
A white-clad herald stepped close to the edge of the podium, with a paper in his hand. That’s what his uncle’s life was worth. A third-rate crier and one sentence on a piece of paper.
“Hear my words, citizens of Kahlaran, subjects of Prince Charta,” the herald began. Ezair chose this moment to move forward. He took a deep breath, and as he slowly let it out, he slipped through between a woman and her daughter, emerging into the forbidden area in front of the platform.
One guard spotted him and walked towards him with his halberd on his shoulders.
“Please stay back,” he said. Ezair grabbed the handle of the weapon and tugged it. Coming from a slim built woman, it visibly surprised the soldier, enough for his fingers to slip.
Ezair did not hesitate. He spun the halberd around and slammed the man in the chin, then leaped forward to dodge the weapon of the second soldier rushing in to help.
Ezair used an old trick Hain taught him and simply threw the heavy ax towards him at an uncertain angle, to make the flexible wooden handle wiggle in the air.
While the two guards dodged the flying weapon, Ezair rushed towards the podium. He caught the middle beam on the first try, then pulled his leg up, propped his foot on a plank, and stood. The soldiers were already stretching their arms to him, but Ezair was faster.
He had never been the most skilled tree climber. Karuna was always faster than him and climbed higher, but that was a long time ago. Karuna was dead. They said she had starved to death after her father hadn’t brought home any money for the third week in a row.
He couldn’t remember how he had felt when he heard the news, only how he tried to find her. He searched for her house, searched for her grave, but couldn’t find either of them. That was when Ezair decided he wanted to be a hero one day. Someone who saved those who didn’t deserve their fate. Those who died needlessly, without whom the world was only poorer.
And now that he was no longer a mercenary, it was time.
Somewhere in the background, he heard the creak of a bow. He waited for two heartbeats as Irshan had taught him, then let go of the podium with one hand and spun to the side. The arrow slammed into the beam next to him, its plumage scratching his side, but that was the worst of it. There were two more beams to the top of the platform, so he kicked himself up and grabbed the next one.
One guard above him stepped to the edge and swung his halberd towards him. Ezair had expected this, so he let go of the beam and fell freely to the handrail below, while the crescent-shaped blade flew over his head.
He lunged upwards, grasping the beam above with one hand and the polearm with the other, then pulled the weapon down with all his weight.
This man was more prepared than the ones below. He didn’t let the weapon go. Instead, he fell to his knees and gripped the shaft with both hands, pulling it towards himself. Ezair resisted him for a moment, clinging to the ax as if his life depended on it, then suddenly let it go.
There was a loud crack as the golden ball attached to the end of the weapon slammed into the guard’s nose. The soldier staggered, and his weapon fell unhindered towards the guards trying to climb up after Ezair.
He reached the top of the platform and stepped sideways away from the vertical sword cut aimed at him. The first soldier he’d met who knew a little about his trade. Ezair leaped forward to the man whose nose he had just broken, pulled out the sword hanging from his side while stepping on his ribs, then stepped to the terrified crier and squeezed the blade against his throat.
“Stop!” he cried at the soldier approaching him. “Stop when I tell you to, or this rat’s blood will be spilled well before the inspector.”
To Ezair’s surprise, it worked. The air froze, the noise from the crowd was cut off. The priest remained seated, even the general only dared to grasp the arms of his chair.
Tamen’s eyes were opened wide and his lips parted as if he were about to speak, but no words came.
The only person unaffected was Rashad.
“My name is Asha Roasin,” Ezair began, raising his voice as much as he could while leading his hostage towards the edge of the platform with small kicks. “I was raised in the streets of Kahlaran. I have no father. I live day to day, like anyone who doesn’t enjoy Prince Charta’s grace.”
A drop of sweat trickled down his forehead. He had planned to upset the crowd enough that the priest and the general would succumb to their pressure, but it would take more.
“What can a simple woman do on the streets, starving and thirsty?” he continued his hastily assembled rhetoric. “They offered to pay me. Twelve hundred sungold to trade the perfume of the treasurer’s wife for a deadly gas. I... What was I supposed to do? What could I have done?” Ezair screamed, trying hard to look desperate.
His eyes turned to the general, who leaned forward, slamming his hand on the armrest.
“Are you telling me you’re responsible for Saleel Aarif’s death?”
Tamen’s mouth opened to speak.
“I am,” Ezair shouted, cutting him off. “I was hired to do it. They paid me more than a thousand sungold.”
“Who was it?” someone shouted from the crowd, and then another voice joined him, and another... People’s thirst for gossip flared up in the crowd like the fire he lit between An Ramash’s tents. They wanted a scandal.
“Answer. Who hired you to kill Treasurer Aarif and his wife?” the general said.
“Councilor Arjun Sikdar. He gave me the money,” he answered in a breaking voice, making every soul gathered there gasp.
“It doesn’t absolve you from your sin,” the general roared at him. “Treasurer Tamen?”
Tamen trembled, turning his still confused eyes towards the man. “Ye... Yes, my lord?”
“You said you saw the one who brought your father the murder gas with your own eyes. Is that true?”
“It’s true... my lord,” Tamen replied precariously. Ezair felt sorry for the kid. He hadn’t let him in on his plan, so Tamen’s mind must’ve been trying desperately to grasp the situation. Unfortunately, Ezair couldn’t help him.
“Was she the one you saw?” the general asked.
Tamen’s hazel eyes turned to him. The camouflage was flawless. Nazrik’s medallion ensured that no detail deviated from the figure of the real Asha Roasin.
“I’m... Yes, my lord, it was her. But this woman has...”
The general didn’t give Tamen time to explain. “What did you wish to achieve by coming here?” he asked, rising from the chair and heading straight for Ezair. “You didn’t think we’d let you go after a confession just because you gave away your employer, murderer.”
“I don’t care,” the fake Asha replied. “It doesn’t matter. If not you, then Sikdar’s men will find me and slit my throat. But I will not let him get away with it. Not after he got me messed up in this.”
Ezair felt a blow against the back of his head. One soldier had climbed onto the platform behind him, or the one with the broken nose had woken up and struck him with the hard handle of one of the axes.
He had been counting on it. He didn’t even try to fight it, falling to his knees and dropping the sword. The herald jumped towards the steps of the platform, while the other guard held his sword above Ezair’s neck to strike him down.
The general raised his hand and stopped them both. He walked up to Ezair in slow, measured steps and knelt down. “Were you the one who broke Osmi Asbith out of prison a day ago?”
Ezair did not respond, but the general didn’t budge. “Resentment isn’t enough reason for someone to fight their way up to an execution. What were you hoping to win with this, Asha Roasin?”
“The Great Divine has a plan for all of us. The world’s visage is vast, and it’s full of grooves. This is the end of mine.”
He smiled as he heard Rashad scuffle behind him. “No, wait, that saying...”
His uncle’s voice was hoarse and powerless, so no one but Ezair heard it. The handcuffs rang as the inspector tried to get up, then collapsed again, while one of the soldiers pulled Ezair up and took him to the center of the podium.
“My lord, wait, this woman cannot be–” Tamen tried to interject, but the general spoke more forcefully.
“The law is the law. Murderers deserve to be punished by death, just like Kanda told us. Inspector Rashad Hazra is not considered guilty in this light, and he is granted clemency under the law.”
Ezair’s knees ached as he was pushed back onto the hard wooden beams, but his face shone. He might never have admitted it to himself, but he had wanted to be a hero more than anything. He had never found a role he was content with. He wasn’t a good heir, he wasn’t a good thief, he wasn’t a good mercenary. He couldn’t save anyone in his life, he couldn’t help anyone. He was never good enough for what he really wanted.
I’m proud of you, Ezair.
His uncle tried to shout through the noise, and from the corner of his eye, Ezair saw Tamen screaming louder and louder.
“This woman is already dead, my lord. It can’t be her, it’s just a magic cover.” Ezair was sure that’s what he yelled, but luckily for him, no one heard. Ezair didn’t want to drag Tamen down with himself.
On the edge of the podium, he saw the crowd below. Some were still shocked by the mention of Arjun Sikdar’s name, others only wanted to see his head fall to the ground. Or anyone’s head.
Only one person was trying to push through the mass of people, her dark hair swirling around as if she was surrounded by the wind itself. The figure approached, shoving everyone aside, and watching her progress, Ezair didn’t even pay attention to the herald slowly finding his voice. The woman came close enough for her silver eyes to meet his, and Ezair smiled at her.
Forgive me, Zaira. But that’s what I needed to be proud of myself.
***
My heart was pounding so hard it sent a wave of pain through me with every beat. I’d played the scene in my head countless times, breaking through the guards, hugging Ezair, and ripping the necklace off his neck to turn him back into himself.
An old man scolded me when I bumped into him, then I shoved a servant away, making him drop his basket. After a while, I couldn’t run anymore, just trying to force my way through the thick crowd. I pushed past men twice as big as myself. I didn’t even hear what the crier said, what sins they wanted to execute Asha Roasin for.
“What’s your last word, murderer?”
I could see them. On the edge of the podium, two soldiers held back Tamen from running to the camouflaged Ezair. He was shouting something, but the roar of the crowd and the cheers drowned out his voice.
All I had to do was drill through a line of people when I met the thief girl’s green eyes. Our gaze connected, and Ezair smiled at me one last time. It felt like he was stabbing a knife in my heart.
The blade fell, and after a single snip and a knock, Ezair’s head rolled down to the platform, and with it, the body changed back. The spell broke.
And so did something else.
The tempest burst out of me with a scream, twisting and tearing the wind around. The furious gales blew away everyone standing by me, but that just fueled the blind rage that rushed through my limbs.
My power, the magic I thought was lost woke in a blaze, flinging every cruel, bloodthirsty human into the shrieking crowd, filling the square with a torrent of chiseling sand and biting gusts.
That’s what they deserved. They had killed Ezair. All of them.
I couldn’t see clearly, and every sound was dampened in the storm. As I tried to rise, the wind answered, lifting me from the ground, away from the screams and cries of pain.
They fled like a herd, almost trampling each other. The sky got closer and the tempest raged even more furiously, and even the horizon was covered with a sand cloud trying to swallow the whole town.
That is your answer, Ezair. I am the kind of djinn that buries cities under the sand.
My feet touched the heated tiles of a nearby roof, but there was no stopping me now. I turned my eyes towards the podium, then I screamed again. The storm picked up my fury and embodied it in a crushing thunderstrike, tearing apart the planks and beams. I had every intention of wiping this city from the face of the earth.
But I couldn’t.
I only heard the soft footsteps behind me just before the sharp pain hit the back of my head, and knocked the power out of me, severing the storm from my anger and pushing me into empty, dull blackness. Whoever did it caught me before I stumbled off the roof, but after that, I felt nothing.
***
Something—or rather someone—was carrying me over their shoulder. They smelled of fresh citrus fruit and warm sunlight, like a tropical grove.
I didn’t open my eyes. The smell was calming, but I feared the world was still the same, and if I looked at it, I’d have to face it again. It was easier to stay in the grove.
Somewhere in the distance, the sound of beating footsteps and shouting crept into my head, urging my carrier to hasten his pace. I could hear voices, but the words couldn’t break through the gloom on my mind.
Someone pulled me and my orange grove to the side, then a blade hissed as someone unsheathed it.
“Leave her to me,” a voice said. It was familiar, but the one carrying me didn’t answer him. The orange grove didn’t want to let me go, and I agreed with it. I was having a good time here.
“You’re smart, you know your odds. The qrahr’s men will catch you as soon as you turn out this door. You may have a chance of getting away on your own, but with her? Please. Leave her.”
My carrier hesitated, then put the sword away and gently lifted me off their shoulder. The other voice took me into his arms, and as my head fell on his chest, a firm roasted hazelnut scent took over the citrus. Nazrik’ scent.
I gathered all my will to open my eyes, to raise my head, but all I saw was only blurry spots and the darkness gathering again.
“Na... z...” I whispered, but I was too weak for anything more.
Nazrik nodded to the orange grove, and they left, leaving me alone with the efrit.
“You can rest now, Zaira. You will sleep for a while, then I’ll tell you everything and answer every question. But until then, sleep.”
He ran his fingers across my hair. I could feel the touch of something brittle, perhaps a ring.
“There’s nothing left for you here. Not anymore.”