Gifting Fire

by Alina Boyden

  CHAPTER 33

  My eyes flickered across the creamy marble ceiling, inlaid with lapis lazuli, turquoise, and jet river zahhaks streaking through the skies. If I was going to live in Kadiro for the rest of my life, I thought I might have a stoneworker inlay some golden cannons atop the animals’ backs. It would make a nice touch.

  I half expected to drift back to sleep, but there was a spasm of pain in my back before that could happen, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from crying out. The doctor said that it would heal, he thought. It was already better. The pain in my legs had stopped, and there was no numbness. I wouldn’t be paralyzed. I just had a pain in my lower back that came and went with varying degrees of ferocity. At the moment, it was clawing at me like a frenzied zahhak in the breeding season.

  “Arjun?” I looked around for him, my eyes scouring the cushion-covered wooden beds that had been placed beside mine for visitors, but there was nobody to be found.

  “He was called away for a few moments, your highness.” Sikander came to my bedside at once. He’d been standing watch near the doorway, but now he sat beside me on my bed, putting his hand over mine. He must have felt the tension in my muscles, because he said, “It’s the pain again, isn’t it?”

  I managed a slight nod in response, but I knew that if I spoke I’d make it sound worse than it really was. It was getting better. I just had to keep it together for a few more days.

  “I’ll fetch the doctor,” he offered, his hand slackening and pulling away, but I tightened my grip around his fingers.

  “No,” I gasped. “Stay.”

  Sikander’s brow furrowed in alarm, but he eased himself back down onto the bed. “Your highness, if you’re hurting I should fetch the doctor. He can give you something for the pain.”

  I shook my head. “I’m tired of being drugged witless. It’s just a little spasm. It’ll be gone in a moment.”

  He frowned, but he didn’t insist on getting the doctor; that was something. He just let me squeeze his fingers until my knuckles were white without a word of complaint or any sign of pain on his part. Maybe my grip wasn’t as strong as I thought it was. It certainly wouldn’t have been with my right arm, which still ached ferociously whenever I moved it, though it always seemed to pain me less than my back.

  “It would only take me a moment to fetch the doctor, your highness,” Sikander whispered, using his free hand to stroke my sweat-soaked hair back from my brow.

  I shook my head and let myself relax a little against the mattress. “No, it’s already easing. Just distract me.”

  “And how shall I do that?” he asked.

  “Tell me a story,” I replied, half teasing, smiling in spite of everything.

  Sikander didn’t smile back. His jaw clenched, and for a moment I worried that I’d sounded too effeminate for him. He’d always got that same look on his face when I was a child and I’d asked for something I wasn’t supposed to have, or when I’d begged him to tell me the story of Razia Sultana once too often. I let go of his hand and curled my limbs in close. It was a stupid reaction, but I was reminded of my childhood so overpoweringly that it was almost a reflex.

  Sikander didn’t miss my reaction, and the tension fled his face. He looked away, but I thought I saw tears glistening in his eyes. He choked out, “I’ll fetch the doctor,” and stood to go.

  “No, wait.” I reached for him, struggling to sit up, but that sent a flare of pain through my hips and down my legs that had me plastering myself against the bed and gasping for breath.

  “Your highness, you’re not supposed to get out of bed yet!” Sikander exclaimed. He pressed my shoulders down with gentle hands. “The doctor says if you move too much, you’ll set back your recovery.”

  I sighed as the pain passed, though the nausea it had provoked in my stomach took a moment or two longer. When it finally dissipated I took a few slow, steadying breaths, and glanced up at Sikander, who was holding my hand, his dark eyes full of worry. “How about that story?”

  He let out an exasperated noise that was half sigh and half laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “What story shall I tell you, your highness?”

  I considered for a moment, and the answer came to me sooner than I’d expected. “When I came to rescue Lakshmi in Ahura, you and Viputeshwar were crying. Why?”

  His cheeks reddened slightly. “It’s not a very interesting story, your highness. It’s nothing you don’t already know.”

  “I want to hear it anyway,” I insisted, because I’d never in my life seen Sikander cry and now I’d seen it twice—once in Ahura and once just a moment ago, when his eyes had been brimming with tears at the way I’d reacted to him.

  “Well, when we arrived in Ahura, I kept close to Princess Lakshmi as you ordered,” he began, and I immediately found myself smiling. Princess Lakshmi? Did he really call her that, or was he just saying it for my benefit? The way he paused, confused by my reaction, gave me the answer.

  “And?” I pressed, gesturing for him to continue.

  “And Viputeshwar came to serve us once we’d been shown to Princess Lakshmi’s chambers,” he said. “At first I tried to keep him away from her, but he was very kind to her, and he treated her with respect. When I remarked on that, he told me the story of his sister, the same story he told you when you arrived in Rajkot for the first time. He told me of how she’d been murdered and how the greatest regret of his life was not being there for her in her moment of need.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath, closing his eyes and rubbing my hand with a strength that frankly surprised me. “And I told him of my greatest regret. I told him how I treated you as a child, and how when you called for me, when you needed me most, I . . .”

  Sikander looked up at the ceiling as if by tilting his head he could somehow get the tears to flow back into his skull. “I know you can never forgive me, your highness, but—”

  “That’s not true,” I interrupted.

  “What?” he asked, his head snapping around, his glassy eyes staring into mine.

  “Sikander, you’ve never asked me to forgive you,” I reminded him. I didn’t say what I could have said—that he’d never admitted to having done anything wrong. Not until today, and even now it was indirect, an admission of regret, but not of wrongdoing.

  For a long moment, he was totally silent, just staring at the bedsheets, and I wondered if he would actually ask for forgiveness or not. I had just about given up hope when he said, “I don’t think I ever really understood how courageous you are until today.”

  “Today?” I asked, wrinkling my nose in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Until this moment, I didn’t realize how much courage it took to . . .” He trailed off, fighting for the words that he’d probably never needed before in his whole life. He sighed with frustration. “It’s one thing to fly into battle, your highness; it’s something else to ask for forgiveness when you don’t deserve it.”

  “It’s not about deserving it, Sikander,” I replied. “It’s about having the courage to ask for it.”

  He pursed his lips and nodded. “You shame me with your wisdom, your highness.” He stroked the back of my hand with the rough pad of his thumb and said, “I’m so sorry for what I did, and what I didn’t do when you were a child, your highness. When I told Viputeshwar what I’d done, when I told him how badly I had failed you, do you know what he said?”

  I shook my head, holding back the tears that were threatening in my eyes now, because he’d finally said he was sorry. He’d finally admitted it was wrong. God, I’d waited so long to hear those words. It was like something suddenly solidified in my heart, as if the world were suddenly rectified, because it meant I wasn’t crazy. I hadn’t been wrong to be hurt by what he’d done, I hadn’t been wrong to be who I was.

  “He said that his sister was dead, but my daughter was still alive,” Sikander whispered.

&nbs
p; “Your daughter?” I wondered why I’d never heard of her before. I’d thought the man had never married. Had he been living a secret home life that he’d never told me about? If he had been, I didn’t know where he would have found the time.

  Sikander took one look at my confused face and gasped out, “Forgive my presumption, your highness. I know that I’m just a servant to you, but . . .”

  I realized then that he’d been talking about me. I reached forward and placed my hand over his. “No, you’ve never been a servant to me, Sikander. You’ve always been family. I just . . . you’ve never called me that before.”

  “I’m sorry for that too, your highness,” he replied. “I’m sorry for so many things. You should never have suffered the way you did in Nizam. You should never have been forced to run away from home. Any fool could have seen who you were, and that there was no changing it. But I think it wasn’t until I came here, until I saw you as you are now, that I realized how much stronger and more powerful you are this way than you were living the lie we forced upon you. Will you forgive me, your highness?”

  I nodded, because I could scarcely trust myself to speak. When the words did come, they were thick in my mouth, tears rolling in long lines down my cheeks. “Yes, of course I will. All I ever wanted was for you to ask. For you to be proud of me rather than ashamed of me.”

  “Your highness,” he said, taking both of my hands in his, “I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my entire life than I am of my bold, brilliant, beautiful daughter.”

  I laid my head back against the pillow with a sigh of relief that brought with it even more tears. “I never imagined you’d say something like that to me.”

  “You must have thought me a very great fool, then, your highness,” he replied, “because no one could have watched you these last weeks and seen what you’ve accomplished and think anything less.”

  “Have we heard back from my father?” I wondered, because I didn’t think he would look on my activities in quite the same light. I’d disobeyed him. I’d killed our allies. Granted, I’d also captured Rajkot and Khambat, and all of Mahisagar with them, to say nothing of Ahura, but it was going to be tricky to hold them without help from my father’s soldiers. For now, the Mahisagaris had sworn allegiance to me, and their three surviving acid zahhaks had been added to my personal stables, but I wasn’t sure how far I could trust the Mahisagari fleet to obey me. I’d named Viputeshwar the subahdar of Mahisagar, and he was in Rajkot even now, attending to matters, but who knew if the Mahisagaris would get it into their heads to rebel?

  Then again, with thirty-six Zindhi cannon zahhaks on our side, and a pair of Yaruban fire zahhaks being gifted to Arjun in exchange for peace, I thought we probably were a more ferocious power in the air than we had been before. So I knew I had the power to crush any rebellion swiftly. The trouble was, doing that would just weaken me further. I needed soldiers I could rely upon if I was to keep my lands safe, and at the moment the Mahisagaris, while the most numerous, had the least reason to be loyal to me.

  “We have not heard from his majesty, your highness, but I imagine he will arrive in person any day now,” Sikander replied. “But you needn’t fear him. I will make certain that he understands all that you have accomplished.”

  “May you have better luck than I have,” I whispered, because I’d never been able to convince my father of my worth, though that hadn’t stopped me from trying, however foolishly.

  “You shouldn’t be worrying yourself over such things now, your highness; you need to rest and heal.” He stroked my hair again, fondly, like he had when I was little and he was putting me to bed. “You should try to sleep if the pain has passed.”

  “I’m tired of sleeping,” I whined. “I want to do something.”

  “You don’t think you’ve done enough?” Sakshi asked as she strolled into the room, Lakshmi at her side and Nuri trailing not far behind. They were all safe and sound. We’d lost not a single flier in the battle. I wasn’t sure how that had happened, but it was probably Hina’s timely intervention that accounted for it.

  The thought of the battle reminded me of an ache in my heart. “How is Sultana?”

  “She’s fine, Razia,” Sakshi assured me as she sat on the other side of my bed from Sikander, Lakshmi piling in beside her. “I took her up for a flight today, and she’s completely healthy. She just knocked herself out from the impact, that’s all. But there are no broken bones. The veterinarian assured me that there’s nothing wrong with her.”

  “I want to see her . . .” I whispered, overwhelmed with a rush of confused emotions, mostly gratitude that she was alive and had saved my life, but guilt too. So much guilt.

  “As soon as the doctor says you’re healthy, you’ll be able to see her,” Sakshi promised. “But you have to stay in bed until your back is healed. As it is, it’s hard enough to keep her from trying to land on your balcony.”

  “Maybe you could move me to the roof so I can see her?” I suggested.

  She pursed her lips and nodded. “I suppose we could set up an awning. If it will keep you in bed.”

  “It will,” I lied.

  She rolled her eyes, knowing me too well to be fooled. “I’ll arrange it. But for now, try to get some rest.”

  “Is Arjun around?” I asked hopefully. Sikander had said he had been called away, but ever since the battle I hadn’t wanted to be separated from him for long. I knew it was probably exhausting for him, but not nearly as exhausting as it had been living so long under Karim’s thumb.

  “He and Hina are handling the emissary from Jesera,” Sakshi said, “but they should be finished soon.”

  “There’s an emissary from Jesera, and I wasn’t told?” I demanded, and I tried to sit up, but both Sikander and Sakshi held me down so I couldn’t.

  “You need to rest,” Sakshi said. “Arjun and Hina are more than capable of negotiating the final terms of peace with Jesera. You’ve spoken with them about it, they know your mind, and they are clever enough.”

  “You flatter us,” Hina quipped as she and Arjun breezed into the room.

  “My prince!” I exclaimed, though I couldn’t sit up to see him with my sister and Sikander still holding me down.

  “Are you trying to get out of bed again?” he demanded, struggling to sound harsh and serious, but unable to keep the smirk off his face.

  “Akka wants to lie on the roof so she can see Sultana,” Lakshmi explained.

  “Oh, she does, does she?” Arjun asked, ruffling Lakshmi’s hair. “Well, what do you think we should do about that?”

  “I think we should let her,” Lakshmi answered, which brought a smile to my lips. “Sultana is worried about her too. She’s always smelling me when I go into the stables if I’ve seen Akka first.”

  “Me too,” Sakshi agreed.

  “Then we’ll have to take her up to the roof,” Arjun decreed.

  “Thank you, my prince,” I said, staring fondly into his eyes, wishing my back were up to more than just the occasional kiss or handhold these last few days.

  He came to my bed, and I was surprised and pleased when Sikander stepped back so that Arjun could be the one to sit beside me. He reached out and placed his hand on my cheek, the warmth of his palm helping the pain to melt away. “I’d intended to tell you this in private, but perhaps it’s better if everyone hears.”

  “Hears what?” I asked, my voice rising a note in alarm. There was something about the way he was looking at me. It was serious, whatever it was.

  “I asked my father to send a letter to your father,” Arjun told me.

  I frowned. “Why on earth would you want to send a letter to my father? What sort of letter?”

  “A letter asking for your hand in marriage,” he said. “What else? Do you really think I’m going to wait around and miss my chance a second time?”

  “After what happened to her las
t unwanted suitor, I wouldn’t worry myself over that too much,” Hina quipped, grinning mercilessly at the fate that had befallen Karim and his family.

  But I was staring up at Arjun in shock and wonder, my heart swelling in my chest until it was physically painful. “You want to marry me? But what about heirs?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t care about any of that, and my father agrees with me. He’s behind this proposal. If you’re willing, that is.”

  “Willing? My prince, I can think of nothing I want more.” I reached up to kiss him, but he leaned his face down so I wouldn’t have to.

  “Then we’ll see what your father says, and if he doesn’t like it, we’ll devise a plan to conquer Nizam and hold him hostage until he agrees,” Arjun replied.

  I grinned. “I’d like that, my prince.”

  “I thought you might.” He kissed me again, lingering longer this time. “But for now, let’s get you to the roof so you can stop trying to sneak out of bed to see Sultana.”

  “All right,” I agreed, and I lay back against the cushions and actually relaxed for a change, thoughts of marrying Arjun swirling in my head.

  CHAPTER 34

  Viputeshwar reports that things seem to be moving smoothly in Mahisagar, your highness,” Sikander told me as I sat under my canopy on the roof of the palace, Sultana curled around me, her neck and shoulders helping to support my back, which still didn’t much care for sitting up straight unaided.

  “The fleet is ours?” I asked.

  “It is, your highness,” he agreed. “And the zahhaks Hina dispatched have been on constant patrol, making sure no one gets any ideas about invading.”

  “And the riders I requested for the three acid zahhaks we captured in Ahura?”

  “Viputeshwar has selected three girls from the local hijra deras in Rajkot,” Sikander said. “They’re all well educated, all young and eager, and they speak Daryastani. He says they should arrive any day now.”