As the palace guards yell and begin retreating in to the chaos of bodies, I quickly recede through the bramble into the meadow. I run down rocky alluvium, relying on instinctive memory from training – paths that soldiers and their stallions would never risk embarking.
The emperor is alive. He fled to the huts. He is with Hyat Uncle, I assure myself.
As the sky morphs to the pale sheen of dawn, I loop around south, then down toward the stone huts.
‘She’s here,’ a watchwoman cries out.
As soon as I cross the meadow, familiar clansmen turn from their steeds. Hyat rushes forward. I notice, then, the emperor is not with him. I stagger back and sink to my knees.
‘He is not here?’ I choke out. Hyat’s eyes widen. My last hope winks out.
A weak wail escapes my throat. Uma warned me about Sajamistan. They capture and torture us. They cut us apart.
‘Where is the emperor?’ Hyat demands.
Behind him, all I make out is a great, familiar shadow. It steps forward, eagerly into Hyat, as I speak weakly to my uncle through its gangly face.
‘The... the emperor is dead.’
The surviving Zahr clansmen begin shouting while Yun stares ahead blankly, Zhasna quiet beside him, pale as a sheet of ice.
My aunt Zunaykha whirls around, jabbing a finger toward me. ‘This is her fault! There was no evidence of the monk-boy’s crimes. For all we know, the girl could have planned his execution with Warlord Akashun!’
‘Uma warned us.’ Zhasna grips her khanjar to her chest. ‘Dunya is never wrong. This is no sister of mine. She is the Qabil of our era, a traitorous son of Adam betraying her own kin.’
I begin backing away as their arguing persists amongst themselves. My hand wrings my waist-sash, brushing against parchment tucked there.
With tremoring hands, I peel open the letter. In disbelief I jam my fist into my mouth, biting hard. I scream.
It’s him. He deceived Eliyas by encouraging him to confide in me, always knowing I would choose the emperor over my brother. He waited for this. He knew my actions would lead to Eliyas’s execution, and capitalised on it to attain the throne.
My thoughts unbalance. The memories of Eliyas’s beheading and then Uma’s death constrict my lungs.
I wait for tears to fall but I know what the emperor forbade from me: my own sorrow. I am never allowed to weep.
I back away into the nearest hut, alone inside. My trembling palms raise, and as I did after the raid that massacred my uma’s tribe, when the emperor ordered me to, I beg to wipe my memory.Make me anew. Make me forget him.
A stroke of nur flickers out from my hand. I press it to my mouth, swallowing the light. I envision it gliding along the tangled skeins of my soul, delving into a cavern of memories, eviscerating every good thing I knew of Eliyas.This is his fault. He was a traitor and now your clansmen are lost. My mind recedes.
I evaporate the letter with a flash of the white cosmic light but its words echo mockingly.
You acted exactly like I wished. Through and through, you are a loyal dog to the Zahr clan, little bird. Thank you for ridding me of that foolishly idealistic monk, as if a Zahr with a soul as pure as his has a place in any Azadnian court. May the boy rest in a grave of nur before judgement by the Divine. Now watch your clan crumble as swiftly as your Older Brother.
Let us meet in the dawn of this new era.
Your Blessing,
The Wolf of Khajak
Part Two
City of Za’skar
The bond to Heaven is forged in war.
—ANNALS OF ZA’SKAR CITY, QABL SAGE ESKANDER ZA’SKAR ON THE METAPHYSICS OF EAJIZI, SAJAMISTAN EMPIRE, YEAR 80, ERA OF THE GREAT FLOOD
8
