“No, it’s – well, yes” – she frowned – “I suppose there might be some argument for –”
She broke off with a gasp.
The fine hairs at the nape of her neck had risen in awareness, her skin seeming to tighten over bone. She knew he’d arrived before she’d even laid eyes on him, and in the time it took her to turn her head in his direction, Kamran had already notched an arrow in his bow.
“No,” she breathed.
She finally caught sight of Cyrus in the distance, the lithe lines of him appearing like an apparition through a veil of mist. He struck her then as almost unreal; billows of morning fog had gathered around him, his coppery hair gleaming like a wicked halo in the gloom. He was following a narrow flagstone path along the edge of the cliff, having abandoned in his wake an unopened steel chest – one that recalled another from her arrival in Tulan, when Cyrus had taken time to feed and water his dragon. Now, she wondered what he’d been doing, where he’d been all night, whether he’d slept at all – but her questions were silenced when their gazes locked in place. He was too far to perceive clearly; she could not have seen the hell and turmoil trapped in his eyes, his features strained with exhaustion; but she saw the change in his body as he registered, in real time, that something was wrong.
He fairly electrified.
Cyrus moved quickly, appearing altogether indifferent to the presence of his uninvited aggressors, and if he had an opinion on the matter of the arrow aimed in his direction, he gave no indication. As he drew closer, it became obvious that he focused on Alizeh to the exclusion of all else, his body taut with restraint even as he moved resolutely toward her.He tried to hide a flare of panic as he studied the unnatural curl of her limbs on the ground – but she knew the moment he discerned the bruise on her face, for his eyes widened with undisguised alarm and he all but ran to her, now bolting down the narrow path at a dangerous speed.
“Stand down,” came Hazan’s sharp voice, cutting through the haze of her mind. “This isn’t the moment.”
Alizeh spun toward him, her heart in her throat, only to realize he was speaking to Kamran – who was carefully readjusting his aim, following Cyrus’s movements.
“That is not for you to decide,” said the prince.
“If you kill him now,” Hazan responded angrily, “you are committing to war between our empires, which you know would be a mistake. There are any number of witnesses pressing their faces against the windows, and it is all but certain that one of the servants has alerted the royal guard – we are no doubt only moments from being intercepted, and we’ll all be sentenced to death. You’ll have little hope of salvation from the Ardunian side, especially as Zahhak seeks to destroy you. I implore you to think this through –”
“Enough,” the prince bit back, sparing only a violent glance for his comrade. “If you think I will fumble an opportunity to exact revenge when it is within my grasp, you sorely misunderstand me –”
“I’m asking you only towait, you fool! Your actions would incriminate us all – you put the child at risk – the young miss –”
“I warned them not to come,” came his dark reply. “I told them I wouldn’t be responsible if they got themselves killed –”
Oh, this couldn’t be happening.
Alizeh struggled to her feet; she felt as if the world were softly melting around her, as if she were trapped in a distorted dream. She saw the horror caught in triplicate on the faces of Deen, Miss Huda, and Omid; she saw the unflinching fury in Kamran’s eyes, the resignation in the set of Hazan’s jaw. It was wrong, all wrong. Cyrus couldn’t die. Not now. Not yet.
Heavens, she thought.
Not ever.
She felt suddenly like she might scream at the prospect, her feelings on the matter so tangled they’d built a nest in her chest. Her own emotional chaos notwithstanding, Alizeh had every practical reason to keep Cyrus alive, too. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d come to rely on him until just that moment. No matter her many protests and prevarications, Alizeh had begun planning her life around the prospect of marrying the southern king – and of taking over Tulan. Only hours ago she’d finally stepped into the light, holding forth with thousands of Jinn who were counting on her to address them again soon. If Kamran killed their king – if he sent Tulan into turmoil and cemented the prospect of war –
What would happen to her people?
With no empire, no crown, and no resources, Alizeh would have no choice but to flee, yet again, abandoning her flock just hours after she’d promised to lead them. All this flashed through her mind with breathtaking speed; she knew it futile even to attempt conveying these thoughts to Kamran,who had every right to want Cyrus dead. She could acknowledge this: she could acknowledge Cyrus’s unforgivable crimes against Ardunia and its prince. She could acknowledge that he deserved retribution for these offenses. She could acknowledge that her reasons for keeping Cyrus alive were entirely selfish. It made no difference.
She didn’t want him to die.
Oh, if only she had her own land, if she could find her own magic – she’d leave both these empires and their heirs behind, for Kamran and Cyrus had proven nothing but trouble. But without resources – without horses or supplies – the necessary journey into the Arya mountains could take months on foot. And even if she were to survive the trek, she couldn’t do it alone.Five people had to be willing to die for herbefore the mountains parted with their magic.
Overwhelmed, Alizeh felt tears prick her eyes.
After all these years – and all this recent mayhem – the pieces of her life had finally, painstakingly, begun to fall into place. Now everything felt impossible once again.
She had to stop Kamran.
Much as she understood his pain, she couldn’t stand aside and let him kill Cyrus and implicate the others in his murder. But something was the matter with her – with her head, her lungs, her bones. She couldn’t understand why she was so tired or clumsy, and when she tried to move too fast, she swayed, as if the ground had surged beneath her. She felt the brace of Hazan’s arms come around her even as she wheeled away blindly. She had no plan; she only knew she had to go to him,get between them somehow –
“Alizeh!”
Her head shot up at the sound of Cyrus’s voice. He was still a dozen feet away, still following the path along the edge of the bluff, but he was close enough now that they could see each other properly. She met his wild eyes with panic of her own, absorbing his anguish just in time to witness the first arrow pierce clean through his leg.
She screamed.
