My heart surged. Could it be as easy as that to discover where the book is?
Trying to disguise my elation, I reached for my cup and brought it closer to my face, inhaling the scent of sugar and spice. The steam curled up, dampening the bridge of my nose, as I took a small sip.
“While we wait,” Suna said silkily, “I would be fascinated to hear more about your own encounters with the spirits, princess.” She propped her cup on her knee. “It’s so rare we receive information from outside our Order, much less from outside of Phoenitia, and it seems you have information we do not.”
I swallowed, suddenly nervous. “I know little about them, really.”
Iram frowned. “Zadie, you can tell Suna what you know. You controlled an enslaved spirit yourself, bent it to your will. She will be interested to hear your story.”
The sorceress cocked her head to one side.
“Oh, that,” I jabbered, taking a loud slurp of my tea. “I didn’t even know the ring contained a spirit when I put it on.” I took another gulp of tea as I processed what the sultan might already know and what wasn’t too dangerous to share. “And Tarak was difficult at first.”
How much had Hepzibah already told Iram? Although I had told him about the Book of Names, I was reluctant to tell him Tarak and I had been something like friends. Or about our deal. Did he know I’d also solved the riddle of the Spirit of the Doors, as well as freed Chimaeus from the vizier’s control?
Iram shifted closer to me, his expression thoughtful. “You gave the ring away of your own free will, Zadie. Then your sister… She freed the spirit before using all of the wishes available to her. I can think of no person in history who has done the same.”
“No one who wasn’t a spirit sympathizer,” the sorceress corrected.
If her tone was meant to be accusing, Iram didn’t seem to notice.
“So they both gave up the ring?” the sorceress pressed.
Iram nodded. “These Khirideshi princesses… They’re fascinating, aren’t they?”
“Indeed.” The sorceress twisted an emerald ring around her finger as she stared at me. “You know that the true name is what allows a person to bind a spirit?” she asked cautiously.
I smiled sweetly at Suna. “And free it.”
The sorceress inhaled sharply through her teeth, making a hissing sound that reminded me of the vizier. I recalled how friendly the vizier had been when I first arrived at the palace in Khisrabah. How polite, how flattering…until it suited her not to be.
I placed my empty cup on the table. “So was Hepzibah in line for your role, before she left Phoenitia to–”
“Princess Zadie,” Suna interrupted, clasping her hands together in her lap. “I’m sure it’s simply that you haven’t had long to learn our ways, but here in Phoenitia it’s considered very rude to gossip.”
My jaw dropped. Gossip? “I was just asking–”
“Sister Hepzibah is a valued member of her Order. I won’t do her the dishonor of discussing her with a stranger to our kingdom.”
The sultan straightened in his chair, raising a hand. “Peace, Suna. Zadie is a friend to Phoenitia.” He shot me a conspiratorial smile. “I’m certain she didn’t mean any harm, even if her behavior can be a little, uh, unorthodox.”
I smiled weakly back.
He nodded encouragingly. “In time she will adjust to our ways.”
Sister Suna straightened her back. “Even so, I would prefer not to speak of Sister Hepzibah when she’s not present to hear my words.”
Sure. That’s why you were asking Iram about her earlier.
We fell into silence, broken only by the occasional exchange between Iram and Suna about other members of the Order I knew nothing about. Gossip indeed. I slumped back in my chair, watching the shadow of the sundial slowly move around the courtyard outside as the afternoon lengthened, with no sign that the Order’s scholars had made any progress discovering information on the Book of Names.
I shifted irritably. What was the point of being stuck here for what had already felt like hours if we didn’t even find out where the book was? My eyes flicked in the direction the other sorcerer had vanished. Perhaps I should think of an excuse to leave this room for a while, explore the Order by myself, and maybe look for where the lamps were being kept.
“Sister Suna!” Brother Tufan strode up to us, a large, silver-plated tome under one arm.
My stomach flipped. Have they found something?
Suna and the sultan leaped to their feet, and I hastily struggled to lift myself from the pillows, my limbs sluggish from being slouched in my seat for so long.
Brother Tufan halted beside us, nestling the book in the crook of his elbow and opening it to where a bookmark had been holding the page. “Here.” His finger hovered just above a neatly penned heading.
I bit my lip in frustration. I recognized some of the familiar symbols – it was undoubtedly written in An Nimivah – but without my wish, I couldn’t read a word of it.
The sorceress bent closer, her head almost touching the page as she raced through the tiny text scrawled across the yellow parchment. Impatience shuddered through me. She had to share what she discovered with me, or–
“Mount Adsurra,” Suna breathed, exchanging a glance with the sultan.
Words Iram had shared with me earlier dimly echoed in my mind. “Your ancestor,” I murmured. “Wasn’t that in his title?”
Iram turned to me, a surprised look on his face before a warm smile flashed. “You’re an attentive listener, princess. Sultan Zahid was known as the Conqueror of Mount Adsurra. Of course, now I see what he might have gone in search of…”
“You think he learned the Book of Names hadn’t been destroyed?”
Iram gave a small shrug. “Mount Adsurra is one of the most difficult ascents in the Ossur Mountains, and it’s located on the Astarian side. Few sultans undertake trips into the mountains at all, let alone try to reach any of the summits.”
“You think the book is at the summit?” I asked slowly.
The sultan and the sorceress exchanged a covetous look.
“It references an ancient temple in the mountains,” Brother Tufan clarified. “There’s a line of old temples throughout the Ossur Mountains. I imagine only a few remain intact. It seems the book you seek is there.”
“Spirits…,” I breathed, the air rushing out of me.
“Zadie, you shouldn’t use that word like a curse,” Iram said sharply.
I ignored him, sinking back down to my chair. I know where the Book of Names is. I shivered as Iram turned back to the sorceress, an ecstatic look on his face. Of course, now the Sultan of Phoenitia does, too…
“Sister Suna, does the Order have any more information on the best route through the mountains to the summit of Mount Adsurra? Or this temple?”
“You know our archives are open to you, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“I’ll take a look now.” Iram’s gaze flicked back to me. “Princess, you may wait for us here. Suna, I assume you can have copies made of any relevant documents?”
“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty.” The sorceress bowed her head.
“Good. Then come.”
The sultan strode ahead of the others, their steps echoing off the stone floors. His excitement was childlike, like he had just stumbled upon a treasure map...which, in a way, I supposed he had. Thanks to me.
My heart twisted as I remembered showing Kassim how to use the Night Diamond talisman in the palace gardens, the map that the starlight had revealed. His excitement had been just as palpable as Iram’s was now. What would he say if he knew I was helping the Sultan of Phoenitia in just the same way?
I can’t think like that. I need to concentrate on finding the Book of Names. And to find it before Iram does…
“Would you like some more tea?” a low, rasping voice said beside me.
“Yes, thank y–” I stopped as I looked up, staring into the eyes of the Khirideshi servant. I hadn’t heard any of the ot
her sorcerers speaking without being spoken to, let alone any of the servants.
“Please, join me at the table,” he said in a quiet voice, although his tone was meaningful. He hurried away.
I glanced around. A few other servants remained in the room, stoking the fire. Two members of the Order stood outside the door, along with Iram’s guards. None had noticed that the Khirideshi servant had spoken to me. As quietly and as smoothly as I could, I got to my feet and followed him to the table, where he was refreshing the spices in the pot of tea.
I leaned against the table, pressing my palms into the wood as I shot another look around the room to make sure no one was paying us any attention.
“How is it you came to be here?” I asked softly.
The servant – Hanan, the sorceress had called him – poured a stream of hot water into the teapot, the sound of water hitting metal disguising his quiet voice. I strained to hear him, surprised he spoke in Khirideshi instead of the Common Tongue.
“My story is not important, princess,” he whispered, “but know that in my years of captivity, the Order have not bent my will as they believe they have. I remain loyal to the Khirideshi crown.”
I inclined my head slightly and replied in our native language. “The crown is grateful.”
He poured the water slowly. “I implore you, princess. Set us free. Not just those of us enslaved by the wicked sultan and his sorcerers, but the people of Phoenitia, too. You saw the woman they called a spirit sympathizer. That is what happens if someone dares to step out of line.”
I shook my head slowly. “But how–”
“There’s something you don’t know about the spirits, princess. About the binding.” He lowered his voice further so that it was barely perceptible. I had to lean across the table to hear him, pretending to examine the bowls of spices sitting there. “Just this morning, I overheard Suna and the other sorcerers say that if you break the object a spirit is bound to, that spirit is freed. They said to make sure you didn’t find out that information when you came here.”
My eyes widened. I had heard nothing to suggest that before. But this man had been working among skilled sorcerers–
“Zadie!”
I jumped at Iram’s voice and spun from the table. He and the Head Sorceress approached, their faces split by grins. My mouth turned dry. I couldn’t let them know what I’d just learned from a servant of the Order.
“I take it there’s good news, Sultan Iram?” I replaced the bowl of cardamom I had been cradling in my hands, trying to wipe the panicked look from my face.
“Excellent news,” Iram confirmed, his cheeks flushed. He turned to the Khirideshi servant. “Thank you for attending to my guest. Has she had enough refreshment?”
The servant inclined his head in affirmation.
“When do we return to the palace?” I asked.
“Immediately.” Iram rubbed his hands together. “While Sister Suna arranges for copies to be made of everything we have on Mount Adsurra, we must ready a party to leave for the mountains.”
I stepped away from the table, my heart beating faster. He wants to leave right away? It was important I got to the book before Iram did.
And with the information I’d gleaned from Hanan, I thought I knew how.
I was going to free Tarak.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I slipped through the palace, walking slowly but confidently. In the chaos following the sultan’s announcement that he would be leaving for the Ossur Mountains, no one paid attention to a solitary princess.
When we’d returned, I’d been escorted back to my rooms, Iram promising that the handmaids would bring me clothes suitable for travel into the cold, harsh mountains.
I had to act now. Hepzibah had been sent to visit Suna at the Order, while everyone else had jumped to the sultan’s commands, making preparations for the journey into the mountains. No one would be thinking about eating right now, so I guessed the grand room where I had dined with Iram would be empty. Definitely no one would be in the ballroom.
All I had to do was get there unnoticed and break the mirrored ceiling.
My fingers closed on the obsidian jewelry box in my pocket, my clothes weighed down on that side. It was the heaviest thing I could find in my room, which I hoped would be enough to break the glass. It would be difficult to get enough force behind my throw to get it up to the high ceiling, but I had to try.
I passed black-clad men and women rushing down the corridors with packages of food, bundles of cloth, and trays of gleaming weapons. I eyed an array of daggers longingly as it passed. Aliyah would’ve known how to lift one of the daggers without being spotted, but I wasn’t the thief queen, so I just continued to walk slowly and purposefully toward the dining room, praying to the spirits that no one would stop me and I wouldn’t need a knife.
Inside the dining room at last, I closed the door behind me with shaking hands, my heart hammering.
I took a deep breath. Now all I had to do was break the mirror.
I took swift steps across the room, still keeping quiet, although the room was empty. Slipping into the ballroom, I breathed deeply again and looked up.
The evening light filtered through the tall windows in lances of gold, making the cold mirror look warm.
“Tarak,” I whispered. “Are you there?”
As with the first time I’d visited the room, he was silent.
“Tarak,” I said again, growing more impatient. “I’ve come to get you out.” I looked for any glimmer of violet, seeing nothing. Maybe it was too difficult to make out against the dimness of the evening light.
Or maybe the djinni had been ordered to stay invisible since we last spoke, and he couldn’t speak or show himself.
“Don’t worry,” I muttered, hoping he could hear me even if I couldn’t see him. “I’ve got a plan. Why didn’t you tell me all I had to do to set you free was to shatter the mirror?” I glanced around the room, trying to decide where to aim the jewelry box. “I found out where the Book of Names is. Once you’re out of here, we can go get it and destroy it before Iram ever puts his hands on it.”
I settled on a spot at the side of the room, far from the windows where someone might see me from the outside, but close to the edge of the mirror where the sides of the dome were lowest. Hopefully it would be easiest to strike the mirror there.
I slid the jewelry box from my pocket, the glossy obsidian cool against my clammy palms.
I took a deep breath. “This is it, Tarak. I’m getting us both out of here.”
Squinting against the bright light, I held the box out in front of me with both hands, bending my knees as I readied to throw it as high as I could.
Long, cold fingers clamped around my wrist and my heart stuttered.
“I don’t think so,” the vizier hissed into my ear.
I twisted, trying to wrench my arm away from her, but the vizier didn’t let go.
“Here we are again, Scheherazade,” she said in a low, gleeful voice. “Only this time, I don’t think Sultan Iram will be so quick to believe your stories about how desperate you are to help him.”
Her fingers tightened painfully, and I dropped the box with a cry. It crashed to the floor, earrings, chokers, and rings clattering out across the marble.
My jaw set. I wouldn’t let her ruin this. Not when I was so close to freeing Tarak.
I stamped down on the inside of her heel.
The vizier let out a yell, loosening her grip for a second, and I darted away. I needed a weapon, but what could I use against the vizier’s sorcery?
I halted in front of the window, hoping the setting sun behind me might be disorientating. Two decorative swords gleamed on the wall to my left. They were fixed to a heavy, metal backing plate, engraved with a crown set over mountains, but it might be possible to wrench one free...
“Tarak!” I yelled. “If you were planning on helping, now would be the time!”
I gritted my teeth. Of course, there was nothing Tarak co
uld do while he was still bound, but I prayed my words would distract the vizier for a moment.
Just as I’d hoped, she looked up at the mirror.
I sprinted toward the wall, making a beeline for one of the ceremonial swords. If I can just get hold of a sword...
I didn’t get halfway across the room before my feet lifted from the ground, the vizier’s magic flinging me to one side. I crashed into the far wall, pain blossoming along my side, the wind knocked from me. I slumped to the floor, gasping for breath.
“And what were you planning to do with that sword if you got hold of it?” Hepzibah taunted.
I pushed myself up from the floor, my arms trembling and my palms slick with sweat, a sweet, metallic taste in my mouth. I probed my split lip with my tongue and spat out blood.
I jutted my chin up. “Count yourself lucky I didn’t get hold of that sword. You wouldn’t stand a chance fighting me without using magic.”
Irritation flickered across the vizier’s face, her lips twitching.
Hope flickered in my chest as I recalled what she’d said to me the day she’d destroyed my wedding dress. She had sounded...threatened by me. I stood taller.
“You’re a coward,” I sneered. “Hiding behind your magic. You’re weak without it. In any even match, I’ve always beaten you. I won Kassim’s trust from you. My djinni fought yours and won. I even won Iram’s admiration, so much so that he’s willing to treat me as his equal, while you’ve only ever been his servant.”
Hepzibah let out a low snarl, her knuckles white as she gripped her staff even tighter.
I eyed the staff warily, forcing more bravado into my voice, even though my knees trembled. “If you beat me using magic, it’s no victory.”
“You think you can best me in a swordfight?” The vizier barked a cold laugh, then frowned suddenly. “Your ego really knows no bounds, Scheherazade. But I’ll indulge you.” She flicked her staff toward the swords mounted on the wall. They ripped from their brackets, flying through the air with a low metallic whine, one toward me and one toward the vizier.
Princess of Smoke (2020 Reissue) Page 22
