My fingertips grazed the edge of the window even as the pain in my side stabbed through me like an arrow. My tenuous grip on my power faltered, and I felt it slipping away from me like a handful of sand. The more I tried to hold on to it, the faster it fell. And then, all at once, it was gone, sand dropping out from under me, and I was the one falling. My heart lurched, but my fingers found purchase on the windowsill. I scrambled, trying to pull the sand back, but it was no good. I fought to slow my panicked breathing. I’d been struggling to use my Demdji powers ever since I’d got them back, but they’d never completely abandoned me like this before. What if I only had so much of the power left and I had drained it? What if it was gone forever now?
I felt my fingers start to slip …
And then there were familiar hands on my arms, dragging me up.
‘That’s a hell of an entrance, even for you,’ Jin said, his grip on me never faltering as he pulled me through the window.
I collapsed in a messy heap below the windowsill, my hip throbbing where I’d bashed it on the ledge as I’d scrambled through. I caught my breath as my vision cleared slowly. I felt Jin’s hand on my face. It came away red. ‘Are you aware that you’re bleeding, Bandit?’
I focused on him. He was sitting back on his heels across from me, brow creased with concern. He was clad only in loose desert trousers tied at his hips by a drawstring. My earlier thoughts of crossing the hallway to find him rushed through me, making my whole body flush with heat, even through the pain. ‘Are you aware that you’re not wearing a shirt?’ I retorted.
‘I was sleeping.’ He ran his hand over his face tiredly. Sure enough, I could see behind him the mussed bedsheets and pillows. And sleep was still clinging to him, in the weight of his eyelids and his dishevelled dark hair. I reached out, finding the shorter hair at the nape of his neck. He exhaled as I ran my fingers through it, and I shivered. My blood was still racing from the escape, and now that the pain was ebbing, I felt awake and alive and like every little sensation was magnified a thousand times.
I needed to talk to him, to tell him what I’d decided. What I’d done. What we had left to do. Instead, I moved recklessly, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth where it had a habit of drawing up into a wry smile just for me. He made a noise, low at the back of his throat, as his hand found its way up my neck, into my hair. I shifted closer until his body met mine, wondering how far I was ready to push us into unsteady waters this time.
He caught my hand with his, our fingers lacing together, our palms pressed tightly. And then he drew away just as quickly as he’d moved forward, holding my hand up to the light leaking through the window.
‘Your hands are covered in gunpowder.’ He sounded different now, drawing away as I glanced down. Black powder was buried in the creases of my palms. A part of me wanted to draw him back, to dust off my palms and promise to explain later. To put the Rebellion aside for one night. But Jin was already on his feet, lighting the lamp by the side of his bed so he could see me clearly.
‘Does this have anything to do with why I heard gunfire earlier?’ he asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, putting a safe distance between us, putting us back on solid ground, where there was a war happening. I was going to have to explain.
I sketched it out for him as quickly as I could, explaining the offer the captain had made. The price of it. What I’d decided. And my plan.
By the time I was done, Jin was watching me grimly. ‘Amani …’ He hesitated, lingering on my name like he didn’t know where to start. He scrubbed his hand across his jaw, an anxious gesture. ‘You’re seriously considering turning down an army?’
‘I’m not considering it,’ I said, my knees drawn up to my chest. I was leaning against the wall under the open window, and the cool night air spread gooseflesh along my neck. ‘I’ve decided.’
‘An army is what we came here for. And now suddenly you don’t think that’s important?’
‘I don’t think it’s worth trading an entire country for,’ I argued. ‘Or Sam’s life.’
‘We don’t even have a country to trade.’ Jin leaned forwards. ‘Don’t you think we maybe ought to win the throne before we decide it’s under threat, Bandit?’
‘It is under threat.’ I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but I didn’t like his reasoning, cajoling tone. I dropped to a whisper, remembering the soldiers outside. ‘And making alliances with foreigners is how your father wound up in this mess in the first place.’
Jin’s mouth pressed into an angry line. He hated being reminded that the Sultan was his father. I knew that. Because I knew him. I’d done it deliberately, to needle him. ‘You didn’t have a problem letting Hala die for the Rebellion,’ he retorted. Now that was more than a needle. ‘How is Sam different?’
‘Sam doesn’t have to die.’ I clenched my jaw angrily. I didn’t like what he was implying: that I was being governed by feelings instead of reason. That I hadn’t cared about Hala.
‘Hala didn’t either.’
‘No,’ I snapped as quietly as I could. ‘You’re right. I could’ve just left her to be tortured and manipulated by the Sultan. Then would you be questioning my reasons for wanting to save one of our own?’
‘You know that’s not what I—’ he started to interject, but I was done letting him talk.
‘Maybe this would be a whole lot easier for you if I were still the same selfish girl you met in Dustwalk, the one who left people behind to die because it benefited her in some way. But you’re alive right now because I’m not that girl. And you’re—’ And you’re in love with me because I’m not that girl any more. I’d been about to say that, but the words stumbled on my tongue. ‘We’re here … together because I’m not that girl any more.’ I tried to glide over the hesitation, though the slight rise of his brow told me he’d caught it. ‘And if Sam doesn’t have to die, then I’m not going to let him just because it’s easier. I can’t have another body in this war before we’ve even got to the real fight. Not unless I have to.’
We sat at opposing ends of the room, neither of us moving, gazes locked, muscles tensing as though we might be ready for battle.
Normally, this would be the part when one of us stormed out into the desert until we cooled off. But there was a guard outside the door, and even if he had let me out, I’d have a hard time explaining how I got back here – and into someone else’s room, no less.
We were trapped together. And I might not be as selfish as I used to be, but I was still just as stubborn. I wasn’t going to be the one to break.
After an excruciating stretch of silence, Jin finally spoke.
‘It’s my family, Amani,’ he said more quietly. ‘My brother. My sister. That’s whose lives you’re playing with.’
I could hear the pain in that voice. There was nothing in this world Jin cared about more than his family. He would die to save them, in a heartbeat.
‘My country,’ I argued. Jin had grown up over the sea, in his mother’s country. He might be half-Mirajin, but he was more foreign. ‘My decision.’ I stood firm. ‘I’m not asking for your help,’ I said. ‘I’m telling you what we’re going to do.’ That thought crept up on me again. Who did I think I was to be giving orders to a prince? To someone who had been in this rebellion longer than I had? To Jin, who I would never take an order from myself if he tried? Who was I to be leading us all down an uncertain road and acting like I was sure of it?
‘Then you ought to get some sleep,’ Jin said finally, breaking the silence. ‘There’s a lot to do tomorrow.’
He wasn’t wrong, but there was no getting back to my room, what with the soldier in the hall. I reckoned I could sleep well enough on the floor. But Jin shifted over on the bed, making room for me, even if he was staring at the ceiling.
I thought about arguing. But I was tired. God, I was tired – tired of fighting, of running, of arguing. And that soft bed looked tempting as sin. I settled on the bed as carefully as if it were made of glass, positioning myself s
o that my back was turned to Jin, so I was staring at the window, waiting for sunrise, the argument firmly lodged between us.
I was drifting between sleep and wakefulness when I felt Jin’s hand on my face. I heard him speak, low enough that I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.
‘You’re wrong, you know. I’m not with you because of who you became. I fell in love with you when I was bleeding under a counter at the dead end of the desert and you saved my life. Back when we were both who we used to be.’
I woke up with my head fitted in the place between his chin and his tattoo, one of his arms draped over me, his hand curled into the fabric of my shirt.
Chapter 15
The blue light of dawn in the mountains made Sam look even paler than he usually did as he stumbled the last few steps to the top of the ramparts that overlooked the sheer drop of the cliff, hands shackled in iron. His golden hair was tousled from lack of sleep, and the skin below his eyes was bruise dark. Soldiers held him up on either side.
The wall was lined with army men come to watch the spectacle: the deserter too cowardly to fight for his own country, being marched to his execution.
I wrapped my hands around my arms. It was cooler in the mountains than I was used to. Sam’s eyes darted my way, and then they drifted beyond me, looking for the others. He wouldn’t find them. It was just me on those walls, among the lines of soldiers in green uniforms that clashed with the sky and stones around them.
Sam’s mouth pulled up wanly at the corners when he realised. I’d come alone. ‘I guess it is a pretty uncivilised hour for an execution,’ he said, as he was jostled past me. ‘Can’t expect everyone to be out of bed.’ He was out of earshot before I could say anything back.
The soldiers took him to the edge of the wall, standing him a dozen paces away from the firing squad. An Albish man in long pale robes leaned a hand on Sam’s shoulder, speaking in a low voice to him.
‘He’s asking if he has any last words he would like passed on to his family.’ Captain Westcroft was standing next to me, hands clasped behind his back. He looked as tired as Sam after last night’s invasion. ‘To give them comfort when they are told the news.’
Sam considered for a moment, and then, leaning his head forwards, he answered him. The man’s brow furrowed before his face slid back to complacency, nodding sagely as he touched our imposter bandit over his heart. He stepped back as another soldier came forward to place the blindfold over Sam’s eyes. He knotted it at the back of his head just as the sun started to rise, turning the blue dawn light into a blazing ember.
‘Captain,’ I spoke to the man at my elbow, ‘I know you’re not going to have a whole lot of reasons to trust me after today, but I’m going to give you some advice that I wish I’d had sooner. Don’t underestimate the Sultan. If you ever think you’re outsmarting him, chances are you’re about to be proved wrong in a very deadly way.’ Captain Westcroft raised his reddish brows at me curiously, but I kept my eyes straight ahead. They were foreigners; it wasn’t my job to protect them. But then, Sam was a foreigner, too. And here I was.
The robed man who had spoken to Sam crossed the short space back to us. He looked at me and then said something quick in Albish to the captain. ‘Your young friend’s final words,’ the captain translated, ‘were that he would like it noted that he was right: being heroic leads to death.’
The smile that danced across my face didn’t linger there. As the soldier moved away and the dozen men with rifles stepped forward, Sam suddenly looked terribly alone. And scared.
I felt my breathing turn shallow as the sun crested the mountain. The captain shouted an order in Albish. As one, the six soldiers in uniform clattered their gilded rifles to attention.
Sam flinched at the noise.
Silence came, and it seemed like all the soldiers watching held their breath at once. From overhead I heard the whistle of a bird, three short bursts. There was a whole lot that could still go wrong, but at least we were ready.
Another shouted order came. The guns pointed at him.
I readied myself to move, legs tensing in anticipation.
‘Ready,’ the shout came.
I rocked on to the balls of my feet, leaning forwards just a little.
‘Aim.’
Sam tilted his head back to catch the first rays of the sun, like he wanted to see it all one last time, even though he was blindfolded. Like he wished he’d known that yesterday was the last dawn he’d get. Maybe if he had, he would’ve watched it instead of spending the time in the dark under the tunnels of Izman, waiting to save my life. Maybe he wouldn’t be here at all.
In that second, his pale hair turned to pure gold in the sunlight.
‘Fire!’
Six fingers squeezed triggers at the same moment that I moved, running forwards even as the racket of shots sounded, filling the air with the familiar scent of gunpowder.
Gunpowder without any bullets.
I barrelled through the smoke easily, past the men averting their eyes against the sound and noise and sight of death. I plunged towards where Sam was standing, waiting for a bullet that would never come.
I slammed into him at full speed, pushing him towards the cliff edge. He staggered back to the edge of the ramparts, and then we pitched over into nothingness.
And, for just a second, we were in wide-open air, falling. Plunging towards the rocks below.
Then we hit – not jagged rocks, but cloth pulled taut, giving way beneath our bodies, bowing just enough to catch us. It was the sheets and blankets we’d smuggled out of Jin’s room, strung out between Izz and Maz as they surged upwards in the shape of two huge Rocs, bursting through the smoke from the gunfire. I heard surprised cries from below; their huge wings buffeting the assembled crowd violently as they flew higher over the mountains until we were out of range of both guns and any kind of air magic the Albish army could turn on us.
I was still trying to catch my breath as Sam struggled next to me, panicked and still blind. ‘Stop squirming!’ I shouted close to his ear over the sound of rushing air as we flew.
‘Am I dead?’ Sam asked too loudly in his own language, still twisting.
I yanked the blindfold off, and he blinked his startled blue eyes at me, taking in my face, the wings above my head that were carrying us to safety, and the endless open sky above that. His head jerked from side to side, seeing Jin on Maz’s back to our right, Tamid on Izz’s to our left.
‘You’re not dead,’ I shouted over the wind, as the enormous sling swung precariously in the wind. ‘Now stop moving before you kill us both.’ He did as he was told, lying perfectly immobile as we rushed over the mountains, up, across and down, until we were back over the desert. I could feel the sand nearby even before I felt solid ground as the twins landed, setting the sling down gently.
Jin slid off Maz’s back, pulling me to my feet, while Tamid stayed stubbornly seated on Izz. Jin checked me over quickly, looking for any new wounds. He wouldn’t find any. I didn’t grow up in the shadow of a weapons factory without learning a thing or two, like how to turn a bullet into a blank.
Sam let us haul him to his feet, but as soon as we let him go he collapsed back to sitting on the ground. ‘On second thought, I’m not going to do that.’ His words were calm, but his voice was shaking. ‘Standing seems a little ambitious right now.’
Jin dropped into a crouch across from Sam. ‘You all right there?’ he asked him as he set to work on Sam’s shackled hands. There was a note of tension in his voice, but Sam wasn’t going to notice it. He didn’t need to know what had passed between me and Jin last night about saving his life.
‘Well.’ Sam seemed to take stock of himself. ‘My legs don’t exactly seem to be working. And I have pledged my allegiance to so many different gods that I am not going to be able to be faithful to them all.’ He was babbling at a frantic pace. ‘I’m guessing being caught being unfaithful to a god is probably twice as unfortunate as being caught being unfaithful to a woman. And I’m s
till not sure I’m not hallucinating all this.’ He squinted up at me. ‘But other than that, I’ve had worse days.’
‘It’s only dawn,’ Jin said as the shackles came free with a satisfying click, falling into the sand. ‘It could still get worse.’ He clapped Sam on the back amicably as he got to his feet.
‘So, just to be clear –’ Sam rubbed at his newly freed hands – ‘why exactly am I not dead?’
‘Because you’re one of us.’ I reached down a hand to help Sam to his feet. He looked steadier now. ‘Which means you’re ours to execute for treason, not theirs.’
Sam squinted up at me for a moment. And then a grin split his face, a real one.
‘Shut up,’ I warned him. I could already see the beginnings of something smart on his tongue.
‘I always knew you had a soft spot for me.’ He clasped my fingers, letting me pull him up.
‘Only for your knack for getting us out of a tight spot.’ I let go of his hand. ‘Come on, we need to keep moving.’
Sam was still getting his bearings after nearly dying, but his gaze flicked quickly around from me to Jin to Tamid, who was still refusing to look at anyone from where he sat.
‘Where’s the princess?’ he asked.
Ah … Leyla.
Jin’s traitor sister was the one thing he and I were able to agree on. She was a burden to our rescue mission, at best, a liability at worst.
So we’d left her. And I’d scrawled out a note for Bilal that I’d handed to one of his soldiers to give to him.
Take care of her. She might be your last line of defence if the Sultan comes knocking.
Leyla might be trouble for us, but she would make a decent shield for Iliaz as a hostage. She might keep the mountain from being burned off the map before we got back.
‘She was extra weight,’ was all I said in answer to Sam.
‘And if there’s one advantage to travelling without a whole army,’ Jin said, tossing his compass from one hand to another, the needle still pointing due south, ‘it’s being able to move quickly.’
Hero at the Fall Page 13
