Hala and I had moved our meagre collection of belongings to the neighbouring bedroom, which belonged to Sara and her child. Fadi, Shira’s son, now slept in there as well since Sara had taken up care of him. It seemed natural, since she was the only one of us who actually knew what she was doing with a baby. Although I’d seen Jin soothe him once or twice when Sara was asleep. It was all a temporary solution though. He wasn’t Sara’s or Jin’s or even mine. He was an orphan now, and when this war was over I’d have to find somewhere he belonged. If we won this war. If we didn’t …
Now, in our new shared room, I was sitting on the windowsill and Jin was on the floor next to it, head tipped back against the wall below me. My hand had dropped to the crown of his head as I dozed, like I needed to make sure he was still there. Both of us were awake now, watching Hala tiredly. We were all exhausted from this morning’s invasion of the palace and the unexpected princess kidnapping.
Sara sat in the corner, one hand rocking the cradle she’d dug out for Fadi. As it swung back and forth, I could just see his dash of blue hair in between the blankets. Another Demdji. Another child who would die if this country fell to the Gallan who waited outside our gates. In the room’s only bed, Sara’s small son stirred just a little, uneasy in his sleep, his fist stuck in his mouth. It was evening, still light out, and the sunlight streaming through the lattice pattern of the window next to me drew shadowy patterns across his face. Shazad had said once that the little boy’s father was Bahi, her oldest friend, who had died at the hand of my brother, Noorsham. I hadn’t known Bahi long, but even I could see the resemblance. The unruly dark curls and the soft open expression that had made me trust Bahi when I still wasn’t even sure I could learn to trust Jin again, now worn by a little boy who would never know his father because of this war.
We kept losing people. And not just our people. People who belonged to others. People whose lives we’d had no right to lay down for them.
‘Weren’t you supposed to come back with papers?’ Hala slumped against the door heavily, her anger fading, like a puppet whose strings had just been snipped, finally releasing her from some great show. The skin below her eyes was dark from lack of sleep, and she seemed thinner than she once had. ‘Or some sort of map that says, Secret doorway through the barricade here, maybe? Instead you bring me back a princess who already led her father to us once.’ She dropped, her back sliding slowly down the door until she was sitting on the ground. ‘Next time I’d appreciate a better gift after all my efforts to get you into the palace. I’m very partial to rubies, for instance. Sapphires are also acceptable.’
‘I grabbed everything I could.’ Jin stretched out his shoulders, bumping against my leg as he did so. ‘I guess there’s a separate office for maps of secret doorways. They probably keep the sapphires in there, too.’
The documents Jin had found in the Sultan’s desk weren’t exactly full of good news. There was the intelligence that the Gallan army was coming our way. I didn’t need a piece of paper to warn me of that now that they were camped on our doorstep. But there was also intelligence saying that they were a first wave and reinforcements would come a few weeks after, which would explain why the Sultan was waiting to deploy the Abdals against the foreigners. He was holding off until he could annihilate them all at once. There were some notes on sending extra troops to the south, where things were starting to fall into ungoverned chaos, people in those territories seeming uncertain of whether they were still under the influence of the now-defunct Rebellion or whether they were still subject to the throne.
Then there was the little fact that the Sultan knew that Bilal, Emir of Iliaz, had offered to betray him for us. Which could only mean trouble for Bilal. Although our exalted ruler didn’t seem to know that Bilal was dying, or that the young emir’s price for changing sides had been marriage to one of Ahmed’s Demdji. Which wasn’t a price we were going to pay, since none of us belonged to Ahmed. So we’d planned to take control of Bilal’s army another way, by having Rahim usurp him, counting on the loyalty of the soldiers of Iliaz who he used to command. But Rahim was imprisoned along with Ahmed now. We needed them both back if we were going to take that army.
And then there was the note that sent my blood cold. A quickly dashed-off missive, dated the same day that the Rebellion was ambushed. It was an order to send soldiers after Shazad’s father, General Hamad. He had been stationed on our westernmost border, staving off invasion via our neighbouring country of Amonpour as this war raged on. With his daughter revealed as a traitor, he was to be executed for her crimes. Word had been sent before the city was locked down, a man’s life ended in a few scribbled lines, while we were trapped in the city with no way to warn him. Shazad would find a way to save her father if she was here. To warn him. But she wasn’t. I couldn’t get to either of them. And now her father was going to die. A man who had risked his life passing information to us. Who had helped soldiers who showed signs of turning against the Sultan find their way to us. Who had even helped some of his soldiers’ wives into the Hidden House when men in his command proved to be poor husbands. He had worked quietly against the Sultan while trying to keep his family safe, and now I was going to get them all killed.
‘I gather somewhere in all this chatter is the bad news that you haven’t been able to get Leyla to talk?’ I returned my attention to Hala as I unfolded myself from the windowsill. It was nearing sunset, and I’d been watching the people of Izman rush back and forth on the streets, completing their errands in a hurry before the curfew forced them back into their homes. At sunset, the Abdals would flood the streets to enforce the citywide curfew that was still in place.
Hala scraped her pale gold nails through her dark hair. ‘It’s a lot more difficult to trick someone when they know what you can do.’ The idea had been simple: Hala would slip into Leyla’s mind and fool her into telling us the information that we needed. Hala was good at that. She had deceived my aunt into thinking I was my mother when we needed her to cooperate with slicing the iron out of my skin. And today she had conned an entire city. But Leyla was not some unsuspecting bystander. She knew what a Demdji could do. ‘And I will remind you that I wouldn’t have to trick anyone if you’d brought back answers instead of more questions.’
Silence dropped like a stone. I knew what Ahmed would’ve done in the old days. Gather everyone to hear what we all reckoned we should do, listen to good counsel, figure out a plan. But nowadays this was everyone. Imin was dead. Ahmed, Shazad and Delila were gone. Rahim, our newest ally, was captured with them. And now even Sam was … missing. The twins were asleep somewhere. And all that left was me, Jin and Hala. Two tired Demdji and one reluctant prince: that was all we had left. An awfully small, sad collection compared to the lot of us that used to gather in Ahmed’s pavilion back in the oasis.
And then a voice boomed from outside, shattering the heavy silence.