“I’ll come quietly,” he said.
“Good,” said Gulshera. “You, pick Lady Arwa up.Gently.”
It was all darkness, after that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
She woke in agony.
“Stay still,” Zahir said in a low voice. “You have an arrow in your left shoulder.”
“Really?” she gasped. “I hadn’t noticed.”
He brushed her hair back from her face. His fingers were blessedly cool.
“Don’t try to move again,” he said.
“Where are we?”
“A tent,” he said. “We walked through the city. We’re as far from the desert as one can be without leaving Irinah entirely.”
It was larger than any tent Arwa had seen before, with a great domed ceiling and a lantern upon the table. Neither of them was chained, but Arwa supposed there was no need. Arwa could not run, not as she was, and Zahir would not leave her.
The tent flap was drawn back. A woman walked in. She wore a plain gown, but her shawl was richly beaded, her earrings heavy with pearls. She raised her head, looked at Zahir.
“Zahir.”
“Jihan,” Zahir said. “Ah, Jihan.”
“You’re alive,” whispered Jihan. She crossed the room and cupped his face in her hands. She was weeping openly, her eyes red. “Ah, Zahir. I didn’t know what had become of you. I saw…Iarranged Akhtar’s funeral. They told me it was a brother’s duty to bury a brother, but I did not care. I told them I cared for his household. That he was my dearest kin. So I buried him, Zahir, but you—I did not know what the Emperor had done with you, and he refused to tell me, no matter how I wept. I could not mourn you.”
“Nasir, what of Nasir?”
“Masuma stole him away,” said Jihan. “I know nothing more than that. But you, Zahir. What became of you?”
He stared up at his sister, and said, “Please, Jihan. Lady Arwa needs a physician. She’s gravely hurt.”
“Of course,” Jihan said softly. “Of course, dear heart.”
She kneeled down, her great skirt fanned around her.
“Where have you been?” she asked. “What became of you?”
“I survived,” said Zahir. “And then you found me.”
“That is no answer, Zahir.”
“Forgive me,” he said. “I am somewhat distracted by Arwa bleeding to death on the floor beside me. Perhaps if you find her a physician, I’ll be more amenable to talking.”
“I’ve just missed you,” said Jihan. “Worried for you.”
“Jihan.” Tired. He sounded so tried. “I know Parviz sent you here.”
“Don’t call him that.”
“His name?”
“He is the Emperor,” Jihan said. “All old names discarded. He is Emperor as much as our father was Emperor. However he may have risen to the title, we must accept the way things are.”
