by Amber Lough
“One of the trainers,” Aga corrected him.
“Yes.” He gestured at the other jinni. “This is Taja. She and Aga will also train you, especially when it comes time to be bonded with your dyad.”
“My dyad.” My legs began to feel jumpy.
“Naturally,” Melchior said. “Taja will join us whenever we need an example, as she is one of the more recently trained magi. There will only be the two of you for most training sessions, because the other new magi are elsewhere. Magi are a minority, as you will find.”
“Thank Iblis,” Aga said. Her eyes were shining.
I crossed my arms. “What if I don’t want to train to be a magus?”
“You don’t train to be a magus,” Melchior said, lowering his eyelids until only his dark, endless pupils showed. “You are born one. You train so that you don’t get someone killed with an unfocused, hastily made wish.”
“I’m not unfocused.”
“Melchior, are you sure about her?” Taja leaned away, like we were something diseased. “She is half-human.”
Melchior picked up a scroll that had been lying on the table in front of him. He unrolled it and read out loud, although he was really reciting it. His eyes were locked on mine. “ ‘Zayele brought us a human of her relation. It appears he has been wished upon, by her, with negative effects. None of my attempts have proved useful. Unfortunately, Zayele would not say what she had wished. Signed, Razeena, Head Physician.’ ”
“That’s not true,” I countered. “I told her everything. I just don’t know why it didn’t work like I’d planned.”
Melchior rolled the parchment back up and tapped it against the armrest of his divan. “So it seems you have a level of power but do not know how to use it. Uncontrolled. Unfocused. Untrained.” I stared at him and nearly bit off my tongue. “Any sensible person would agree to my training so that she does not disrupt anyone else’s life.”
“In Zayele’s defense—” Najwa began, but he cut her off.
“There will be no defense! She is not on trial. Zayele is here to report to training, like any good jinni. Have no fear, I will look after your sister.” Najwa and I looked at each other, and in her eyes I saw a flicker of concern. “You have your own duties to attend to.”
“Yes, sir,” she said quietly. “Can you undo the wish she made on Yashar? The things he sees frighten him.”
He had been about to wave us away, but he froze. “What things?”
“We don’t know. But they are scaring him, and they seem to come and go with any jinni.”
He and Aga both stood up at once. She nodded at him and said in her rich voice, “I’ll have him brought here.”
“Wait!” I shouted, panicking. “Why are you so interested now? Why bring him here?”
“Because, child,” Aga growled, “it seems you’ve done it again. This boy needs our help. Quickly.” She whipped her gray braid over her shoulder and trotted toward the entrance, adjusting her belt while she moved.
“Can’t they help him in the hospital?” Najwa asked.
Melchior crossed his arms. “If she made a wish to change him, there is nothing they can do to return him to his previous state. I, however, might know how to help him.”
“What wish was it?” Taja asked, but he ignored her question. Instead, Melchior had locked eyes with me.
I resisted the urge to look away. “I want to be here when you help him.”
“He is my concern now. Yours is to train. Taja, you will be taking over the exercises.” When Taja opened her mouth, he waved his hand in the air at her. “You will do just as I did for you. No more, and no less.”
He took one last sweeping look at us, and then went to a door and disappeared behind it. I ran up to the door just after it closed, but couldn’t pull it open. I whirled on Taja.
“Where is he going? Where will they put Yashar?”
Taja shrugged. “I don’t know. But whatever you did, it surprised him. What did you wish anyway?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled, then I pulled on Najwa’s arm. “Come. We have to get to Yashar first.”
“You can’t just leave,” Taja said, stepping in front of us. “Melchior told us to get started immediately.”
I gritted my teeth. “I am not going to stay here when someone is off to steal Yashar!”
“You are a student. You don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Zayele, I can go for you,” Najwa said. “You stay here.”
“Are you really going to stop me, Taja?” I asked.
Taja’s nostrils flared, but she shook her head. “Be here first thing in the morning, or I’ll suggest to Melchior that he train you himself.” There was something mischievous in her eyes, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I dragged Najwa down the steps and over the fallen sweet pea petals.
—
We were too late. When we got there, we found Shirin pushing open the hospitals doors, her soft mouth tipped down at the corners. After she told us what had happened, I ran home, suddenly needing Rahela. She was the only other person who cared about Yashar and would understand.
—
I was half-asleep on the pile of pillows in our main room when I felt someone’s hand on my cheek.
“You don’t want to come with us?” It was Atish’s voice, so I opened my eyes.
“No,” I said.
“You’ve never had honeyed dumplings before, and the best ones are only served today,” he said. “Also, you’ll miss the fight.”
I raised a brow. “What fight?”
He grinned. “Rashid has started the competition for your dyad, and one of the first events is tonight.”
Najwa groaned in the background. “Atish, you can’t be serious.”
“But I am.”
“You’re going to fight over me?” I asked. I pushed myself up off the floor. “That’s…but why? Why can’t Rashid just pick someone and be done with it? I thought it was going to be you.”
Atish rubbed his scalp and looked away. “It will be, don’t worry. I just have to win every event. Or most of them.”
“You don’t sound very confident.” I thought about being partnered with someone else, some other Shaitan that I didn’t know, for the rest of my life. What if I hated him? What if he was rude, or stupid, or disgusting?
“I’m confident,” he said. He pulled me onto my feet and held me close. “I just need you to be there for me.” His mouth was only inches from mine, and I couldn’t look away from it. “But first, we need to get some of those honeyed dumplings.”
He let me go and smiled, flashing his teeth. He knew I had been staring at his mouth, and my face flushed hot with embarrassment. “Sounds delicious” was all I could say. I took one glance at Najwa and Shirin, who were whispering with each other and stopped just long enough to give me a look when Atish ushered me out the door.
“Aren’t they coming?” I asked him when we were outside. Then I gasped. The whole Cavern had been transformed. Where there had been clear gypsum shards poking down from the ceiling before, there were a thousand blue, green, and gold crystals lit from within. The ground was sparkling in dappled colored light. White-hot sparks burst from the streetlamps, popping and dancing around the glass casings.
Drumbeats, quick and strong, came from the center of the Cavern. Atish took my hand, grinned, and nodded at the sounds. “That’s where the fight will be. And the food.”
“Is that all you Shaitan care about?” I asked, matching his grin. Guiltily, I thought of Yashar, locked up in the palace, not knowing what all those sounds were. Not getting any of the food.
“Believe me, you wouldn’t think of anything else either if you knew what you were about to eat,” he said. He nearly dragged me along the route to the Cavern’s center. I took another glance at the crystals glowing above us, and trotted beside him.
Someone had wished a crushed mica layer on top of the cobblestones, and it glittered beneath the feet of hundreds of jinn. Children, all wearing white tunics
embroidered with tiny silver disks, joined hands and wove themselves between the adults. In contrast, the adults wore darker, richer tunics in jewel tones. In the corner of my eye, I saw Najwa’s adopted mother, Laira, laughing beside a circle of women. Her tunic was jade and gold, and hemmed with a ribbon of gold beads. She caught me looking at her and stopped just long enough to nod once at me in recognition. Then she turned back to her friends. That was all I’d ever get from her.
Atish was right about the food. The smell was heavy and sweet, and I’d never felt hungrier. I was dizzy from the sounds and swirling lights, and it took me a moment to realize he was holding up a small, bronze-colored ball of dough.
“Taste this and you’ll never go back to Zab.” Atish held it under my nose and I nearly swooned at the syrupy scent. I put it in my mouth and thought of the Greek story of Persephone. The moment the roll melted on my tongue, I forgot her plight and thought only of the smile spreading outward from my tongue. I moaned in delight, and grabbed for another.
“These are delicious,” I said, not caring that I was speaking around the sweet globs. “Honey?”
He nodded and stuffed two at once into his mouth.
A horn blew from nearby, long and haunting, then ended with a series of trills. Everyone turned toward the sound, which echoed with murmurs from the jinn. Atish swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“They’re calling us.” He took my hand again and pulled me away from the food cart and in the direction of the horn. The jinn parted, allowing us through, whenever they saw the golden lion on his upper arm. Wherever he was taking me, it had something to do with the Shaitan.
We stopped when we reached a group of soldiers, all with the Shaitan mark gleaming on their upper arms. A handful of them were women with long, bronze-tipped braids, but most were men. They surrounded a circular pit lined with jagged volcanic rock. The center was combed white sand and one man stood in the very middle of it. Rashid, Captain of the Shaitan. He looked past his soldiers and caught my eye.
“Zayele, welcome.” He bowed and I stood frozen, not sure if I should bow in return or wave. “We are honored to have you watch our first contest.” To the Shaitan, he said, “Regular sparring rules apply. First sign of blood ends the match. The final victor rises to the top of the chart and has the best chance at being the next soldier to take part in the Dyad tradition.”
Atish squeezed my hand and then let go. My palm was suddenly cold, and I wiped it against my thigh while Atish walked up to the circle of black rocks. He tugged on his vest and nodded at Rashid. “I request a chance to fight for the position.”
“Anyone else?” Rashid asked the group. Seventeen men stepped forward to join Atish. Like Atish, they were all built like cats, with quick muscles and a graceful stance. One of the women came to my side. Her face was furrowed with a frown that began between her eyes and ended at her tense jaw. When she noticed I was staring, she clicked her tongue.
“If you were lucky, they’d let you partner with a woman.” When I didn’t respond, she huffed and stalked off. If Dyads were usually male-female pairs, it wasn’t my fault. Would I have been more comfortable watching women fight each other to be with me? I doubt it would have made a difference. Rashid clapped loudly then, and my thoughts returned to the circle of white sand.
Atish stood in the center, facing a soldier with an array of ugly scars scratched onto his forearm. He was narrow-eyed and his cheeks were fleshy. When he sneered at Atish, I prayed silently that he would not win the fight. They unbuckled their scabbards and tossed them to the empty hands surrounding the ring.
The fight began without any warning. The round-faced soldier rubbed his palms together and then flicked his wrist at Atish. A ball of hot light shot out toward Atish, but he leaped out of the way. While the soldier stepped sideways to wait for his wishpower to return, Atish jumped forward and pummeled him in the face. The soldier stumbled into the others and Atish pulled him back into the circle and set him on his feet.
A stream of blood dribbled from the soldier’s nose. The fight was over. Atish bent forward and exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry, Rohan,” he said. “I just can’t afford to lose.”
Rohan covered his nose and grinned. “It was a good tactic. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Next,” Rashid called out. His face had hardened, like bread left out in the sun.
Atish waited out the next few fights, but he did not come to stand beside me. I stood alone and forced myself not to wince while the men bloodied each other. I had found a way to keep my face expressionless when Atish hopped back into the circle and winked at me.
“Atish and Samir,” Rashid said. He crossed his forearms and nodded at each Shaitan. Samir was slightly taller than Atish, with wider shoulders. His eyebrows were thick and overshadowed dark, deep-set eyes. When he lowered his chin and locked his gaze on Atish, he looked like a ram readying to leap against his competitor.
Atish’s jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. There was something about Samir that put him on edge, while the other Shaitan had not. As soon as Rashid said, “Go,” Atish launched himself at Samir. He hurled into him, but Samir had lowered his body and, without even a grunt, grabbed Atish and threw him over his shoulder. Atish hit the ground and the sand exploded into the air. Samir turned, wiped the dust from his eyes, and flicked his wrist. A jet of white fire shot toward Atish.
Atish rolled to the side before the fire hit him, and jumped onto his feet. Samir lifted his hand—his wishpower was strong enough for another attack—but Atish was ready. He pushed his palm at Samir and shouted a word I didn’t understand. This time, there wasn’t any fire. The air cracked and Samir flew backward into the onlookers.
The Shaitan crowded around Samir, but he did not rise. Atish sank to his knees and let out a long, exhausted sigh before turning toward Rashid. Rashid’s arms were still crossed, but he nodded approvingly at Atish, with one brow raised.
“I don’t think Samir realized Atish was his equal,” someone muttered to my right.
“He’s not Samir’s equal,” another Shaitan snickered. “He’s better.”
My chest swelled with pride. Atish had won the fight. As alarming as it was that they were fighting over me, I was proud—and relieved—that Atish was as good as he was. Maybe, just maybe, he would be my dyad.
Atish rubbed at his face and then got up off the sand and came to me. He was glowing with adrenaline and sweat. “That was lucky.”
“Lucky? You surprised him. That’s skill.”
He laughed softly. “No. Samir is better at hand-to-hand than I am. I just happened to be faster that time.”
“You’ve fought him before?”
“Lots of times. He taught me everything I know.”
“Did you ever win against him?”
“Not till today.” He grinned and leaned in close to my ear. “I’d never had anything like you at stake before.”
Goose bumps trickled down my neck and I smiled before pulling away from him. “Well.” I knew I should say something else, but my mind was spinning and I couldn’t come up with a single additional word. All I could think of was the way his breath had felt against my ear and the heat in his eyes before he had leaned in.
I SLIPPED AWAY when everyone went to stand along the lake wall to wait for the last orb to break. I had never missed this moment before, because when the flames broke the last of the glass orbs, the air over the lake would erupt in dancing, swirling sparks. They’d fall, light as ash, and settle on the water’s surface like a glowing, multicolored blanket. When I was younger, I’d wait for them to flow closer, where I could stare past the sparks and pretend the lake had turned to liquid diamond.
But I would not be there tonight. More than anything, I needed to visit Faisal’s Memory Crystal. I had too many questions, and to be honest, I didn’t have the heart to see beauty rain down in the Cavern.
The market stalls were emptying, and no one paid any attention to me while I snuck past them. I checked behind
me twice, to make sure no one was watching, and then I ran across the open expanse of the central courtyard to the golden domed building that contained all I needed to know.
The dome was shaped like an upside-down acorn and grew straight up from the ground. The roof sloped softly until it reached the golden spear with a shard of plain, clear quartz affixed to the end. Rich gold foil covered every outer surface, except for the simple door of wood. Even the door handle, a ring the size of my fist, was made of gold.
I wrapped my fingers around the cold ring and twisted it. The door began to open, pulling away from me as if the air within was sucking it in. I let go and watched it swing forward, cutting into the darkness. No one should be inside, I thought, because everyone was at the Last Breaking.
“Narush,” I whispered. A moment later, a series of flames ignited down a chain of sconces, lighting the path to the cold world beneath the Cavern. A narrow gilded staircase led the way, and I gripped the railing as I descended.
The air grew cooler and drier with each lamp I passed, and although it was not so very cold, I shivered. The last time I’d been on these steps was for Faisal’s funeral, a few weeks ago. Nearly half the jinn in the Cavern had been there, but I’d felt as alone then as I did now.
When I reached the base of the staircase, my foot crunched in the gravel. The floor was made of crushed volcanic rock, and every so often, a spear of colored crystal as tall and wide as a man jutted up from the rocks. When I was small, I used to think we turned into those crystals when we died. At my first funeral, I saw the memories pulled from the body and set into an empty crystal, where they floated around like wisps of smoke. My adoptive mother, Laira, added her memories of the deceased into the crystal, and it was then that I realized we were transferred—the parts of us that mattered—into something that would not decay.
The chamber was full of upright crystals in every color. During that first funeral, I had thought that array of colored crystals was what a rainbow looked like. Faisal had spoken to me of them, and I had not understood then how they were really connected in a ribbon and spread across the sky. But then, I didn’t know what a sky looked like either.
