All the color drained from Lalana’s face.
“Lana…” I took a step toward her, reaching for her arm.
But before I could touch her, she had stepped away from me, rubbing the ring on her finger. “Tarak!” she called, then, before he’d even fully materialized, continued, “I wish that me, Zadie, and Aliyah are granted immunity to all poisons.”
I closed my eyes, biting down hard on my lip in frustration. So typical of Lalana to react in this way, to respond without thinking. If she’d asked me, I could have told her how difficult Tarak could be, not to mention the limitations of the small enhancements he could perform.
The djinni appeared in his usual rush of violet smoke and sweet scent of frankincense. Still in his handsome prince outfit, I noticed.
He wrapped a consoling arm around my sister’s shoulders, his narrowed eyes fixed on the dead seller lying on the ground. “What a piece of filth.” He hugged Lalana tighter.
Lalana sighed heavily. “That rush of warmth… Was that the wish working?” She twisted around to look at me. “Did you feel it, too, Zadie?”
I glared back, trying and failing to hide my frustration with her. “There are a few things you should know about Tarak’s claim that he’s an all-powerful djinni, Lalana.” I turned my irritation on him. “Should you tell her, or should I?”
“Wh-what do you mean?” Lalana stammered.
Tarak shot me a venomous look. “What your sister is trying to say is that your wish is granted, princess, but my magic only works on the wearer of the ring. Only you will be immune to poison. I can’t do anything for Zadie or tattoo-head here.”
Lalana held her ruined hand out, the amethyst stone sparkling in the light.
“And?” I snapped at the djinni, the irritation – and, if I were being honest, fear – pooling hot in my belly.
Tarak’s voice grew even colder. “And my power is currently constrained by the ring I’m trapped in. I can help you, but there are limitations. I can only enhance small things about you.” His voice softened as he looked down at my sister, moving to take her extended hand in his own. “Not that I can see any way in which you could be enhanced. Oh, and like Zadie, you only have seven wishes.”
“Now six,” I added, unable to help myself, “since you’ve just wasted your first one. One that could have helped you with the competition–”
“Wasted?” Lalana interrupted. She stared at me, her eyebrows raised, lower lip jutting out. “How can you say that, Zadie? I’m sorry the wish couldn’t help you, too, but aren’t you glad I’m immune to poison now?”
“Why do you need to be immune to poison?”
Her eyes grew wider. “A man just tried to poison me in broad daylight–”
“Tried to poison you?” My own expression grew incredulous. I wrapped my arms around myself. “Why would he have been trying to poison you? Everyone thinks you’re dead. I’m the sultanah-to-be. Astaran has a lot of enemies, Lalana. And those are my favorite tarts. I think it’s pretty clear they were after me.”
We stared at each other.
“Why would you think he was after you, Lalana?”
But my sister just pressed her lips together in an expression that reminded me very much of our mother, and refused to say anything else on the matter.
Chapter Five
I took a long, complicated route to my chambers, slipping through the palace gardens. Insects hummed around me, the late afternoon sun warm against my dark, tangled hair. Sweat gathered between my shoulder blades. I was still flustered from my run through the streets of Kisrabah and needed to get changed.
I frowned down at my dusty dress and bare foot poking out beneath. And grab a new pair of shoes.
I’d be late for tea with Safiyya and her betrothed, Prince Diyan, but that couldn’t be helped. I’d just found out my sister was in Kisrabah and then almost been poisoned. As excuses went, they were pretty good ones. Not that I’d actually be able to use them.
I ran around the corner, then slowed at the sound of singing close by. The warbling voice was low and rich, the musical accompaniment soft as smoke in the background.
“Zadie, you’re back, just in time!”
I froze at the sound of Safiyya’s voice, twisting around to where the princess, Diyan, and Kassim all sat around a low table under a white awning, empty cups and platters of food set in front of them. The sultan was dressed in his usual cream robes, while Prince Diyan wore a smart tunic and turban in traditional Nahraji green and copper.
Behind them, set up in front of the white-latticed dovecote, an old man with wide, soulful eyes and a long gray beard had paused his singing, the two musicians behind him watching me keenly, their hands hovering over the strings of their instruments.
I put a hand to my disheveled hair. Spirits, I was not dressed to be mingling with other royals right now. If my handmaids, Mehri and Jevera, saw me roaming the palace in such disarray, they’d probably faint.
“I knew you hadn’t forgotten!” Safiyya continued, the loose sleeve of her pale blue gown floating through the air as she beckoned me over. “I told everyone we’d wait for you before we poured the tea.” She twisted around, addressing the singer behind her. “Falah, would you mind starting again? I wouldn’t want Princess Zadie to miss anything.”
“Thanks, Safi. You didn’t have to.” I took a few begrudging steps toward the table, my cheeks burning as I felt Kassim’s gaze rake over my appearance. “You can carry on without me, I need to get changed.” I gestured toward my outfit. “I’m afraid I’m not dressed properly to entertain guests.”
I looked toward Diyan and the young prince blushed, averting his eyes as if I’d turned up completely naked rather than just missing a shoe.
“Oh we don’t mind. We’re all family here.” Safiyya beamed, nodding to the cushion opposite her, next to Kassim. “Or we soon will be, anyway.”
Safiyya pushed a plate toward me. “Sit, help yourself to a tart.”
A mountain of almond tarts was piled in the middle of the table, on top of a long gold runner. I eyed them warily. The tarts glistened even in the shade of the awning, but after my encounter with the seller and the poison… I shook my head with a grimace. “No, thanks.”
“Zadie.” Kassim sounded exasperated, his gaze darting down. “Why in the twelve kingdoms are you only wearing one shoe?”
“Uh...” I sidled over to the table and sank down onto my cushion, tucking my sore, dirty foot out of sight beneath the folds of my equally dirty dress.
I rubbed my lips together. I didn’t think Kassim would react well to the news I’d been running through the streets after almost being poisoned by a street seller. Spirits, he’d never let me out of the palace again. And I needed to help Lalana rehearse for the competition.
“Well,” I began, widening my eyes, “you’ll never believe it, but I was visiting the street performers with Aliyah, and one of them had a trained monkey that was collecting coins from the audience, and it pounced on my foot and–”
“You want me to believe a monkey stole your shoe?” Kassim raised an eyebrow.
“How awful, Zadie.” Safiyya leaned over the table, pouring tea into the cup before me. The warm scent of mint wafted up, steam curling in the air.
“And your dress. Did a monkey attack that, too?” Kassim gestured to the streaks of dirt covering my pale green dress. “And your hair?” He still sounded exasperated, but a smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he reached out to tuck a wayward curl behind my ear, the back of his fingers grazing my cheek.
I took a quick sip of my tea, flushing when I noticed his gaze had fallen to my lips.
Luckily, the singer resumed his song before I had time to come up with an excuse, and everyone was momentarily distracted, turning to listen as his smooth voice filled the air, blending subtly with the instruments accompanying him. My body relaxed at the soothing notes, my shoulders dropping as I unclenched my jaw.
“Falah was last year’s palace storyteller,” Safiyya expl
ained in a low voice. “He’s serenading us before we elect a new storyteller in a few days. The competition is always the best part of the festival.” Her eyes glittered as she shared a knowing glance with her brother.
“Why did you choose Falah last year?” I asked Kassim, glad the conversation had pivoted from my state of dress. And to something that could be useful. Learning more about why Falah had won could help Lalana.
The sultan looked thoughtful. “He sang with emotion. Many of the other storytellers focus too much on creating a visual spectacle. But music should be about the way it makes you feel.”
Safiyya murmured her agreement, and I nodded, a little taken aback by how seriously Kassim answered my question.
“Our mother loved music,” Safiyya explained. “This was her favorite time of year, and she always let us watch the storytelling competition.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” I took another sip of mint tea, hoping it might calm the churning in my stomach. I had a lot riding on the competition with Lalana entering. I smiled despite my nervousness. “The streets of Kisrabah are already transformed. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s wonderful.”
“Even with thieving monkeys running wild?” Kassim drawled. When I turned he was grinning. I elbowed him but he caught my arm and tugged me closer to him, instead.
I turned to Diyan, wanting to involve the shy prince in the conversation. He sat hunched forward on his cushion, cradling his cup of tea in his lap. “Are you excited to see Astaran’s storytelling festival too, Prince Diyan?”
He raised his gaze to meet mine, not looking thrilled to have everyone’s attention on him. “It’s one of the reasons I’ve traveled here ahead of the Royal Wedding. All Spirits Day is celebrated differently in each kingdom or queendom, so it’s interesting to observe the cultural differences first hand. I’ve already filled three scrolls with my observations.”
The musicians held a long note as Falah finished his song, bowing so low his beard touched the ground. I gazed thoughtfully at Prince Diyan as we all clapped politely. For someone so young, he was like a walking library.
Perhaps the young prince might have some knowledge that could help me, too. Lalana had told me she was attacked by Phoenitian soldiers in Yadina, and we’d run into one of their armies ourselves on Hidu…
“Do all kingdoms recognize All Spirits Day, Prince Diyan? Even Phoenitia?”
Kassim glared at me at the mention of Phoenitia, but Diyan was already speaking.
“That’s an interesting question.” The prince shuffled forward on his cushion, his eyes bright. “Not much is known about Phoenitian traditions or history because they’re so isolated up north, and very little literature gets through. Their ways are very different though, and their political relations with the rest of the twelve kingdoms are quite strained.”
“Quite strained?” Kassim scoffed. “They’ve tried to attack Astaran time and time again. Only the wits of my ancestors have kept them at bay.”
Falah started a new song, producing a drum and setting off to an uptempo beat.
Diyan shrugged, unperturbed by Kassim’s heated reaction. “I’d say it has more to do with the mountains than your ancestors.” He turned back to me. “You see, the Phoenites can’t easily invade Astaran because the mountain range prevents supply chains for their armies. Only small bands of soldiers make it through, and they usually only raid the hilltowns.”
My breath caught. That was exactly what happened to Lalana. She and Ambar must have gotten caught in one of these raids.
“Why can’t they just trade for supplies like the rest of the kingdoms?” I asked. “They have access to the coasts and ships, right?”
“Because they don’t want to,” Kassim answered hotly. “They’ve denied all peaceable offers of trade for years.”
“Actually, they do trade with outsiders, but usually black-market merchants and pirates with no kingdom allegiances,” Diyan corrected lightly. “And even then, ships are only allowed to dock once every two moons.”
Kassim opened his mouth to reply but stopped, his head snapping up as one of the doors leading into the palace opened.
Hepzibah strode through, her blue-black robes dark against the white gravel. I ground my teeth at the sight of her. Aliyah and I had been researching the Royal Vizier from the moment we came back from Hidu, but so far the thief queen had uncovered nothing. Records of her only seemed to start the day she appeared in Astaran as advisor to Kassim’s father.
“Kassim.” The vizier swept into a shallow bow, ignoring everyone else. “I thought I’d come and tell you myself that I’ve finished the inventory of the…” She paused, looking at Diyan. “The new additions in the treasury. I’ve also recalled all of the keys, even from Namir and Elian. Now only you and I have copies.”
I bristled at the thought that the vizier had the same level of access to the treasury as the sultan. I knew she was a sorcerer and that she’d tried to sabotage Safiyya’s tournament. I was almost certain she’d tried to kill me on Bahar’s ship.
And yet I still didn’t have proof of anything she’d done, beyond Aliyah’s word she’d hired the thieves, of course. And who would believe a thief over the vizier?
“Perhaps it would be safer to have only one key,” I suggested, smiling up at the vizier with mock sweetness. “And for the sultan to keep it on his person at all times.”
The vizier’s composure flickered.
I’d have to keep investigating her motives, and wait until I had irrefutable proof to petition Kassim to get rid of her. Or perhaps when I was sultanah I could send her away on a whim with no explanation.
“Whatever the sultan desires.” Hepzibah smiled down at Kassim, the picture of compliance. She steepled her fingers. “Of course, I’ll be beginning my investigations into how to safely use our new treasures straight away, and I’d hate to keep bothering you for access...”
“It’s fine. You keep a key, Hepzibah.” Kassim waved a hand. “But start with book research first. I don’t want anyone handling the lamps unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“What lamps?” Diyan’s ears pricked up.
“It’s nothing that concerns you,” Kassim replied, a little harshly.
Safiyya threw him a glare.
“Princess Zadie.” Hepzibah abruptly changed the subject. “You look like you’ve been...enjoying the festivities.” She raked her gaze over my disheveled appearance. “Perhaps a little too much.” She gave a light laugh, but her eyes were cold and calculating, just as they had been before the rope wrapped itself around my leg on the ship, dragging me overboard.
My blood chilled. Could she be behind the poisoner? I’d assumed it was one of Astaran’s enemies trying to put a stop to our alliance, but it could easily be someone much closer to home. Someone who knows what I like to eat.
I pulled the platter of tarts toward me, plucking one from the top and holding it out to the vizier, just as the street merchant had done earlier. I was careful to use my left hand, so she wouldn’t notice the ring was missing. “Would you like a tart, Hepzibah?”
The vizier took a small step back, eyeing the tart warily. “No, thank you.” She pursed her lips, a hand darting to the choker coiled around her neck. “I can’t join you. I have work to be getting on with, princess.”
I tried to read her expression. Was she nervous, or just confused at my uncharacteristic politeness?
“Are you sure?” I waved the tart more aggressively, the smile plastered on my face so wide my cheeks started to ache. “Just a bite?”
“Zadie.” A flash of annoyance passed over the sultan’s face. “Hepzibah said no, and she has important research to attend to.”
I dropped my hand. “Oh, don’t we all,” I replied, not dropping eye contact with her and trying to convey in those few words that I was watching her every move. Just like she’d threatened me with weeks ago, when she had snuck out onto my balcony and almost caught me with Tarak.
The vizier regarded me coolly, compo
sed once more. “Until later, then.” She smiled tightly and melted away like the shadows in sunlight.
Chapter Six
I straightened my shawl and smoothed out my tunic as I stood facing the door to the thieves’ lair, the late evening sun warm on my skin.
I was sure things wouldn’t have gotten any less awkward between me and Lalana since yesterday. Before I’d left her to return to the palace, she’d insisted again the poison must have been meant for her. I had tried to explain that the poison would certainly have been meant for me, but she hadn’t listened. She’d just turned away whenever I’d tried to tell her about the vizier’s vendetta against me and Astaran’s complicated political history.
She’s grieving, I reminded myself as I stared at the closed door. She probably isn’t thinking straight.
And she had come here to ask for my help. So I was going to do my best to help her, even if that meant pandering to her nonsensical beliefs.
How could she think the poison had been meant for her when I was the one who was betrothed to the Sultan of Astaran?
“Princess?” one of my guards asked gently. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, thank you, Hadi.” I rubbed my temples.
“We’ll be right here, whenever you want to head back to the palace,” he said gruffly. “Just don’t… Don’t go running off again, okay?”
I flushed, heat prickling my cheeks. Kassim had clearly had a harsh word with my guards about losing me in the streets yesterday.
“Sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“A princess doesn’t need to apologize to her guards,” Hadi said swiftly, clutching at the scimitar hanging from his hip. “Only… Let us help you, princess. That’s what we’re here for.”
I nodded slowly, then squared my shoulders. No matter how awkward things had been yesterday, I needed to make an effort for Lalana today. Aliyah had invited all of her associates to offer their opinions on Lalana’s performance in rehearsal today, and having met several of the thief queen’s associates before, I wasn’t sure how Lalana would cope. I needed to be there for her.
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