‘I don’t know.’ Not as long as the Abdals could, that was for sure. I was already starting to feel the strain, the risk of the wild storm slipping its leash and tearing through the camp. And the power controlling it on the other side came from machines. I was only flesh and blood. ‘What do we do?’ I asked, breathless. I needed to go to the palace; that was the plan. I had to deactivate the machine. If I didn’t we would be helpless against the Sultan’s metal soldiers. But if I left, the sand would rush in and drown us. And it would all be over.
‘I’m not sure,’ Shazad said, watching the sand circling us. We all stared at her, even as I could feel my knees threatening to give out.
Sam spoke first. ‘Did she just say she’s not sure, or was I hallucinating?’
‘I’m thinking.’ Shazad’s voice was still level. I could see it going through her mind, the cost-benefit analysis of what was likely to get the fewest people killed. It shouldn’t be her decision to make. And it wasn’t. It was Ahmed’s.
‘Amani needs to go to the palace,’ he said, taking the decision away from her. ‘My father is obviously doing this to keep her here, which means he’s afraid of what will happen if Amani does get to the machine.’
‘People will die.’ One of my knees buckled, and suddenly Jin was behind me, steadying me. My arms were shaking. No matter what we decided, the reality of my failing power might decide for us. But I wasn’t giving up that easy. ‘You can’t fight in a sandstorm.’ I could feel the power of it pressing against me, threatening to swallow the camp whole.
‘And we can’t fight at all so long as the Sultan has this power to wield against us,’ Ahmed said. ‘The plan remains unchanged. Now, if everyone can—’
The sensation hit me so suddenly that I doubled over. It wasn’t the pain I normally felt when using my powers; it was more like a blow. Power slamming into mine, knocking the storm out of my hands.
I lost control. Whatever Ahmed was going to say was lost in the rush of the sandstorm.
I braced myself against Jin, my body radiating pain, as I waited for the sand to swarm in, to consume us.
But that didn’t happen.
Instead, the sand rose, spiralling far up into the air, towards the clouds. For a moment it hung over us like a huge, dark cloud, blotting out the sky, a swirling mass that could easily crash down and crush us all. I started to reach for it again, even though I knew it was hopeless.
And then, suddenly, the sand scattered through the air, falling harmlessly like rain around us.
‘What’s happening?’ I gasped, pulling up my sheema to shield my eyes from the sand. The others were doing the same. All except Sam.
‘I think …’ His eyes were turned westwards. The rest of us followed his gaze. There, on the horizon, stood row upon row of green uniforms. ‘It’s the Albish army.’
Chapter 39
It was far from the whole Albish army – a dozen men out of hundreds. But a dozen men wielding powers were better than nothing.
‘Captain Westcroft.’ We met him at the edge of the camp as he marched, leading what remained of the men we’d seen in Iliaz. The young soldiers behind him looked battered. ‘We figured you’d been annihilated.’
‘Many of us were.’ The captain nodded gravely. ‘But I thought it prudent to keep some of our soldiers separate from the Gallan.’ Their Demdji. They might have forged an alliance with the Gallan, but hundreds of years of prejudice didn’t disappear just because two regents had signed some paper far away. The Gallan thought all magic was the work of the Destroyer of Worlds. The Albish had a different kind of faith. ‘We were luckier than most of my men.’ The captain looked sad, tugging on the ends of his moustache. ‘And now it seems like you could use some cavalry, so to speak.’
Ahmed considered the foreign man. I knew what he was thinking. Allying with foreigners had been the beginning of his father’s rule as well. It had been the start of us handing the country over to the Gallan and their greater force. We could not make that mistake again.
*
‘We will happily accept,’ Ahmed said finally, ‘provided you can follow orders from my general.’ He nodded to Shazad. He wouldn’t make his father’s mistakes. If he could make them pledge themselves to us not as allies but as those who would obey, then we could do this.
I could see her already tensing, ready for the raised eyebrows that came with her being a woman. But Captain Westcroft just nodded. ‘If we can take orders from our queen, then I’m sure we can manage that. After all, she does outrank me if she is indeed your general.’
Shazad’s brain worked fast, unsnarling everything into the smooth fabric of a plan. ‘Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.’
Sam and I were ready all too quickly. We didn’t need much: A few weapons. Izz in the shape of a huge Roc. For the Albish to direct a little bit of cover my way. For me to stay alive to the end.
Suddenly we were standing in a circle, all of us keenly aware that this might be the last time any of us saw one another alive.
‘This is it.’ I checked my gun for the hundredth time.
‘It seems like someone ought to make a speech or something,’ Izz said, wearing only a blanket, ready to shape-shift for us.
‘Something suitably heroic,’ Maz agreed with his brother.
Around us, the noise of the camp getting ready for battle reigned, men and women arming themselves, rushing into position to face the Sultan’s men and machines. Orders were shouted down the lines to the rhythm of guns snapping into place against uniforms. A few prayers were going up.
Our people would fight on the defensive until Sam and I could bring the wall down. And the Albish would provide a sandstorm. They might not be able to control our desert, but they could control the winds enough for it to look like I was still with Ahmed’s army as it closed in on the city.
‘Speeches are best saved for the dead,’ Shazad spoke up. She’d been unusually quiet. ‘That’s what my father used to say, at least.’
I embraced Ahmed, then Rahim, both of them whispering a prayer of good luck in my ear.
I turned to Jin. There was nothing either of us could say now that we hadn’t said last night. He just ran a thumb along the line of my jaw. ‘I’ll see you again, Bandit,’ he promised before kissing me.
Shazad embraced me last. ‘Bring each other home safe,’ she said finally, before letting me go and looking at Sam.
His mouth pulled up at the side, and I recognised the prelude to a joke – some gallows humour before we all headed off to try our hardest to stay alive to see another dawn like the one rising behind us now. But before he could say anything, Shazad grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him towards her abruptly, kissing him squarely on the mouth.
And suddenly everyone else was looking at their feet. Or at the sky. Or just about anything that wasn’t Sam and Shazad.
That was one way to shut him up.
Finally the two of them broke apart. ‘Well,’ Sam said, looking flushed and unbearably pleased with himself as he riffled his hands through his hair. ‘That’s one hell of a motivation to come back alive.’
We climbed on Izz’s back, and in a few quick movements, we were catapulted above the approaching army, towards the city. Izz flew over the dome of fire, spreading huge blue wings wide as he soared over the rooftops, leaving the battle behind.
We landed a little way from Oman’s Gate, the easternmost entrance to the city. When we’d left through the tunnels, there had been a Gallan army in our way. Now there was nothing but blackened sand.
I stood in front of the gates, a little way back, careful not to touch the fire. Did I have anything left in me? If I didn’t, we’d have to dig our way in. I drew my power to me, pulling it together between my hands as I pressed them in front of me before splitting them open in one violent gesture that sent me to my knees in agony. The sand parted, scattering away from the gate. And sure enough, there, underneath, was one of the bricked-up tunnels.
Sam stepped on to it, and sand ca
scaded down as I released my power, breathing hard. Cautiously he pushed his foot through the hard stone before pulling it back. Like dipping a toe in the water to test it. He turned towards where I was standing, still on steady desert ground, extending one hand to me. ‘Shall we?’ he asked, like we were headed into a party and not a death trap. I took his hand, stepping on to the top of the tunnel with him.
He pulled me to him, like we were going to dance. Suddenly the solid stone below our feet started to give. I felt the soles of our boots slip through, slowly at first. Then we started to drop. Fast. I just had time to hold my breath and shut my eyes before we plunged through the roof of the tunnel, like a pair of stones sinking through the water.
We hit the ground hard, in a heap. Sam grunted loudly below me as my elbow caught him in the stomach. I untangled myself, rolling away from him. It was dark and cool down here. The only light was above us, a long narrow metal wire that was incandescent with Djinni fire, feeding the wall from the palace. But it wasn’t much to see by.
I didn’t know how long we walked for. We moved as quickly as we could through the tunnel, aware that every moment we wasted here was another moment our people were on the defensive on the battlefield.
Sam was faster than I was. He was running ahead, his blond hair glowing dimly in the light, when suddenly he stumbled, sprawling into the dark. I caught up with him in a few short steps as he picked himself back up. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I tripped,’ Sam said. He groped around for a moment in the dark before his hand closed on something, and he held it up to the light. It was a gleaming bronze face. I drew back without meaning to. An Abdal. Or part of one. The eyes were blank and sightless. It was just a piece of a machine, I reminded myself. It was nothing without the spark of fire lighting it, without a word in the first language marked across it, giving it life.
‘We’re under the palace,’ I said out loud. ‘We’re close.’ I stretched my hand out backwards, searching for the stone wall. It met hard metal instead.
‘The walls are lined with iron.’ When I said it out loud, my voice echoed against the metal unsettlingly. ‘Seems like the Sultan’s been hard at work since we were last here.’
In the faint light of the wire, I saw Sam reach up and lay a hand flat against the stone ceiling. He could reach it, but just. ‘So we’re trapped,’ Sam said, too cheerily. ‘Excellent.’
‘Not trapped,’ I said. I nodded at the path marked out by the wire. ‘Just one way to go.’
We moved more carefully after that, picking our way forwards in the dim light. The further we went, the more discarded pieces of Abdals there were. Bronze and clay hands and torsos. Early tests. Experiments that hadn’t quite worked before Leyla got it right. There was an articulated leg that reminded me of the one she had made for Tamid. And then there were those that looked almost whole, metal men slumped on the floor like discarded dolls or tired soldiers. The light glanced eerily off one of them. ‘Sam.’ I grabbed his arm, making him jump. ‘I think that one just moved.’
Sam looked where I was pointing. ‘A trick of the light,’ he said. But he took hold of my hand all the same, leading me forwards a little bit more quickly. I heard a small whirring sound as we passed another.
‘That wasn’t a trick of the light,’ I said to Sam. And then the Abdal sat up.
We staggered back as the thing started to drag itself to its feet like a broken puppet being pulled up by its strings. We ran, bolting down the tunnel, following the wires. As we dashed past another metal body it moved, too, seeming to snap to attention. I stopped as we passed by another, pulling my knife out as I did. In one violent motion I prised the bronze cover off the back of its foot and drove the knife through the word that gave it life. I tried to wrench the knife back out, but it was caught in the mess of gears and wires that lived under the Abdal’s skin.
‘Amani.’ I heard Sam say my name, and even as I looked up I realised there was another Abdal coming towards us, blocking us off straight ahead. Sam had his gun out. Three quick shots, but the thing didn’t even falter. Instead it raised its hands towards us in an inhuman imitation of Noorsham blessing his people back in Sazi. I could feel the heat swelling around it as it prepared to burn us.
We turned to run the other way. To retreat. The light from the wire dashed across the gleam of bronze behind us. Two more Abdals were closing in on us, slowly raising their hands. The heat around us was building. We were trapped.
For once, Sam didn’t have anything smart to say. I just felt his hand, looking for some comfort, his fingers squeezing mine. Something hard pressed against my knuckle. The ring that Zaahir had given me.
The ring that was supposed to save me when I released Fereshteh and turned the machine off.
I thought of Zaahir back in Eremot and the way he’d simply extinguished the Abdals’ flame with a touch. His last gift was not meant for this. But the Abdals were getting closer. Inching towards us, the heat building to an almost unbearable point.
I wrenched my hand out of Sam’s death grip, flinging it towards the wall instead.
The glass smashed.
And I felt a shockwave, an emptiness, a void. Like a wind that swept up the fire of the Abdals and then snuffed them out, sucking all the air out of the space. Smothering them.
As one, they dropped like ragdolls, falling to the ground.
Sam stared at me. ‘What just happened?’
It doesn’t matter, I tried to say. Except that wasn’t true. It did matter. I glanced down at the shattered ring in my hand. Now whatever magic had been in that ring had fled, and I was left with nothing to face the sheer power of Fereshteh. I had no way of freeing him except the words I had used to free Zaahir.
But before I could answer Sam, I heard the sound of distant footsteps. Of metallic feet scraping along stone. There were more. And they were coming. We weren’t there yet.
‘We have to go,’ I said.
And then we were running again, bolting down the metal and stone corridor. We didn’t make it far before we crashed into another wall. The end of the tunnel. The bright wire passed through a tiny gap, disappearing to the other side. To the machine. Our hands slammed into cold metal.
Now I was sure I could hear noise behind us. The whirring of gears, and something that sounded terribly like the slap of metal feet. I banged my fist angrily against the metal.
‘What do we do?’ I turned around, desperately looking at Sam. But he wasn’t looking at me. His hand was flat against the ceiling. And then he was reaching through, the edge of his fingertips disappearing through the stone above us. ‘I can’t reach that,’ he said, ‘but I think I can get you through.’
I blinked at him for a moment, not understanding. He could lift me through the stone. But he wouldn’t be able to follow.
‘No—’ I started to argue, but Sam was one step ahead of me.
‘You have to go,’ Sam said urgently. He grabbed my arms in a gesture that seemed like something he’d read about in storybooks. ‘There’s no time to argue. One of us has to make it out of this alive,’ he declared dramatically. He really did sound ridiculous, even when he was about to throw himself at death.
‘Shazad …’ I heard myself say. Shazad had told us to bring each other back. Not for him to save me. For us to save each other.
Sam’s mouth pulled up a little on the side. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’ He forced a broad smile. ‘All the greatest love stories end like this.’
I could feel the last moments slipping through my fingers before death came for us. I couldn’t just leave him. But I couldn’t find the words either.
‘Sam.’ I flung my arms around him. Like we’d stood when he’d pulled me through the wall to the Sin Maker. Like we might be going through the wall together again. Even though this time he wasn’t coming with me. ‘I’m sorry.’ It was the only thing I could find to say as I embraced him.
I’m sorry that I drew you into this. I’m sorry I led you here. I’m sorry you’re here with me. I’m sorr
y that it ends here.
Sam tightened his arms around me. I felt the solidity of him that would be dust in a few moments. ‘I’m not,’ he said as he pulled away.
And then he was on his knees in front of me, hands locked together, his back to the wall for balance. I could hear the sound of the Abdals getting closer. If I left him …
But if I didn’t, everyone died. Everyone out on that battlefield. Jin and Ahmed and Rahim and Delila. Sam was laying down his life for us.
I steadied myself on his shoulders, putting my boot in his linked hands, and Sam lifted me. I only just had time to hold my breath before my head met the stone. It gave way as Sam pushed me up, and suddenly I was halfway through, shoulders and arms above the stone ceiling. I braced my arms, pushing, yanking the rest of my body through the floor even as Sam kept hold of me. And then I was on the other side, my legs pulling out of the tiles of the palace floor. I just had time to see the tips of Sam’s fingers disappear.
Chapter 40
The Once Nameless Boy
Once, in a kingdom far across the sea, there was a boy born with no name.
As a child at his mother’s knee, he heard many stories of men from the great land where he was born who made names for themselves, through prodigious acts of valour and heroism. And so, as he became a man, he began to search for a name of his own. Eventually his quest took him far from the shores where he was born, to a desert where others like him had come from nothing and found names.
It was there that he began to fight in the name of another man. A man who had many names. The Prodigal Prince. The Rebel Prince. The Resurrected Prince.
It was in the name of this man that the nameless boy fell.
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