“I’ll never run to you,” she said to the fading magician. “Never.”
“Before you decide with such certainty, go to the library and search for what has been hidden from those who seek to stop me. Read what you find there.” The words hung in the smoke even after the magician was gone. “And then choose your fate.”
Shahrazad stood alone in the hall for a moment, stunned. What in the thirteen paradises had just happened? She looked up the hall and saw nothing. She saw no one behind her either.
Which was a good thing, because in that moment she realized she was half naked in her father’s palace. Her very suggestive bedlah skirt snugged her hips, but she had no brassiere. In the heartbeat she found a guard, she was dead.
Then she remembered her father’s soldier, the tale he’d tell the Sultan. She might very well die tonight.
Taking a deep breath, she crossed her arms again over her breasts and walked calmly to the black door. She put her hand on the brass knob, and paused, wanting her clothing. God, if you hold me in your eyes in even the smallest way, please let this door open.
And before she could turn the knob, the door swung toward her with a gentle squeak.
“Who’s there?” she asked, releasing the knob like it was a snake. “Hello?”
“Shahrazad,” she heard. The voice was deep and masculine. “I’m so pleased to see you. I worried for your safety.”
“Prince Tahir?” The scent of gardenia rolled over her. “You are safe. I’d thought—” She stopped, remembering the sound of the gnashing demon teeth. “Where are you?”
“I’m here, directly in front of you. I opened the door.” Unlike her own voice, his sounded steady, and he was closer now. “I’m very happy to have found you.”
The kindness of his words, the familiarity of his voice, these undid her. Tears fell and she couldn’t wipe them away, not without baring her breasts. She turned to dry them with her skirt.
“By the six winds,” she said, swallowing her tears. “I let the magician escape. I couldn’t stop her—”
“Shh,” he said. “Everything is fine. You know I can find her.” Warm arms wrapped around her, protected her, completed her.
Shahrazad closed her eyes, envisioning Tahir where she could not see him. She imagined his muscular arms around her waist. She imagined the kind look in his eyes. Beneath her naked breasts, his chest felt strong and powerful. He could ward off any evil.
And he smelled better than anything she’d ever smelled—like sandalwood and tobacco. Like gardenias. He pulled her against him, stroking her shoulders. She relaxed into his embrace.
“In God’s eye,” she blasphemed. “This feels right.”
“Mmm.” His very masculine cheek rested against hers. Was she dooming her land by ignoring Duha’s foretelling, letting a man touch her? She didn’t care. When that magician slid a finger across the small of her back, her world had been doomed. In Tahir’s embrace she’d find only solace, no damnation. The world might burn to ash around them, but she’d have him, and that seemed like the first sane thought she’d had since before her wedding.
“Tahir?” she asked, using his informal name for the first time.
“Mmmm?”
“Don’t stop holding me.” She swallowed back tears. “At least for another heartbeat or so.”
He didn’t answer. Instead he wrapped his arms more tightly around her.
“What happened in the Flower Taker’s chambers?” she asked finally, her voice calmer now.
“Shitani came. The soldier and I killed them. I don’t need to tell you it was messy.”
“And the soldier? Did he live?”
“Yes.” He pulled her more snugly against him, burying his nose in the hair behind her ear. Her bare nipples suddenly hardened, and she became achingly aware of the friction from his naked chest. “But he’s tied in the bedsheets. I took his swords, but when I looked up, I couldn’t find you—I had to find you.”
She ignored the warm emotion his words elicited—at least for now. “I need my clothes.”
“And we need the magician.” The door opened wider, and she understood he was inviting her into the chamber. “I believe she’s left the palace—but she hasn’t gone far.”
“I think we need to go to the library.” She walked through the hall, down the same path she’d trod in what seemed a lifetime ago.
“Why?”
“The magician said she needs my help with the shitani. She said something is hidden there that I need to see before I choose.”
“Why would she have hidden it? She could have given it to you?”
“She didn’t say she’d hidden it—only that it was hidden.”
“But why didn’t she simply give it to you?”
“I don’t know—I don’t trust her. Maybe we should hunt her down and return your sister to the throne before we look at old musty tomes.”
“We have a month to find my sister. And if the ancient texts in your library are anything like the ones in mine, educating ourselves will be a good use of our time.”
“Education is fine, but I’d like my clothes.” They approached the door to the Flower Taker’s bedchamber. “Is it safe to go in here?”
“Your father’s man won’t have escaped; I promise you that.” She watched the door open via his invisible hand, his blood-soaked dagger floating in front of them. “But let me go first.”
Shahrazad entered the bedchamber following the faint sound of Tahir’s footsteps. When she entered the room, she saw no sign of her father’s man.
“He escaped,” Tahir said. “We need to leave.”
“I need clothing.” She walked toward her tangerine-colored oraz, which was hanging just where she’d left it, on the intricate lattice where she’d changed.
Just as she stepped forward to retrieve it, two soldiers came through the opposite doorway. “Princess Shahrazad,” the foremost man said. “Are you she?”
“Yes,” she replied, to his feet. How could she deny it? How dare he speak directly to her?
“Princess Shahrazad.” His tone was officious now. “We’re here to arrest you.”
“You’re here to arrest me?”
“We are, you whore,” the second soldier said.
“But why?” She needed her oraz, and she needed it now.
“You know why, slut.”
She turned toward the feet of the second soldier. “Who gave you this ridiculous command?”
“Your father, the Sultan of the Land of the Moon.”
10
As the first soldier walked toward her, his worn shoes clacking on the flagstone, the time-marking bell rang from deep within the palace. The hour was exactly between midnight and dawn, and for the first time since the magician vanished, she realized how little time she had left. She was going to turn into a pegaz in four short hours. And she was being arrested. And she had this burning snake tattoo across her back.
God hold her in his eyes, the Raj would never wed her.
“Just come with us, Princess Shahrazad,” the second of the two soldiers said. “We’ll take you to the Sultan.”
Ridiculous. If her father killed her, he’d have no pawns left with which to build an alliance. Had her father lost his mind? The armed guards closing in on her suggested he truly had.
“Stop,” she said to their feet.
They did. Maybe this arrest was part of the wedding ceremony? Maybe it was a test.
Increasingly aware of Tahir looming behind her, she held up her hand, keeping her eyes on her feet as trained. Her other arm covered both breasts. “You’re not going to touch me,” she said in the soldiers’ direction. “I forbid it.”
“You can’t forbid anything, whore.” The russet-haired soldier said that. She saw his worn sandals move closer.
“Wait,” the second soldier said. “She hasn’t been convicted yet. Don’t touch her.” He waved a spear vaguely in her direction. “But don’t try to flee, princess. We have orders to bring you in regardless of the c
ost.”
“I need to dress.”
“You need to come with us now.”
That was not going to happen. “You don’t want to deliver me naked to my father, do you?” She boldly met the second soldier’s eyes as she asked this, daring him to defy her.
“Very well,” he muttered, looking away before she did. He gestured to the lattice where her garment hung.
Keeping her hands over her breasts, she went behind the lattice and turned out the lantern. She’d throw herself from a minaret before she gave these camelbrains a show.
“You will turn away, please.”
“We’re watching, whore princess.”
But that was not to be. She heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh—not hard but with authority. “Turn,” the second soldier hissed at the first.
“But she—”
“Turn away or face the lieutenant.”
“You can’t punch me.”
“I just did. Now turn.”
Shahrazad’s mind raced as she removed the bedlah skirt and slid into her wedding oraz.
Struggling with the many tiny buttons, she realized she didn’t have time to argue with the Sultan. If her father actually was trying to arrest her, she was in trouble. Not until she read what the magician wanted her to read, not until she helped Tahir rescue his sister could she cope with the Sultan—because she had the distinct feeling there was more at play here than random bad auguries, disappearing magicians, and the promise of a shitani invasion. They were all related.
“Hurry, princess,” one of the soldiers goaded. “We don’t want to keep the Sultan waiting.”
She didn’t dignify that with an answer.
With no more pressure than a sunchaser’s wing beat, a silent fingertip glided across her cheek. I’ll stay directly behind you. I won’t let them touch you or hurt you. Tahir’s touch whispered as clearly as his voice would have.
Then he whispered in a voice so low she struggled to hear. “Just stay calm,” he said. “When the sun comes up, you’ll turn into a pegaz and we’ll escape this fiasco.”
Odd. The magician had made the same suggestion—only now the threat truly existed. Now her father likely wanted her head to decorate the Pike Wall.
The feeling that they were being manipulated grew in her.
“We need to get to the library first—before we meet my father.” The magician had also suggested that, and Shahrazad resisted the urge to balk.
One of the soldiers approached the lattice structure. “To whom are you talking?”
“I’m praying that God holds me in his eyes, and you would too if you knew the magnitude of your transgressions.”
“I’m going to—” She heard feet stomp toward her, and a brief struggle.
“Hurry, Princess,” the nicer soldier said. “We’ll not wait much longer.”
“I’ll hurry her,” the first soldier said.
“I’m putting on my slippers.” With a sigh, she stepped out and toward them, completely dressed.
“You ready?” the second soldier asked.
“I’m prepared now.” She straightened her shoulders and covered her face with the golden veil. “Lead the way.”
With their spears at her back, she let them herd her through the narrow, darkened hall toward the door.
As they entered the hall that led to the foyer, Tahir acted. Not that she saw him, but when one soldier grunted and fell to the floor unconscious, she figured that was Tahir’s work.
“What the fuck?” the remaining soldier said. And as she looked on, the man doubled over as if someone had punched him in the stomach, then he too crumpled to the floor.
An invisible hand grabbed hers and pulled her to the door.
“Now,” Tahir said in his normal voice. “Where is this library?”
“Perhaps we should forgo the games and seek the magician directly in her cave,” Tahir suggested as he followed Shahrazad through the hall. This second death threat from her father made it difficult for him to trust the Sultan. “We can fly there at dawn.” Get her to safety. Find his sister. Lift her curse.
“The problem with the magician is that she vanishes before we can compel her to do anything, and we need her too badly to be chasing her vanishing shadow over the dunes for the rest of our lives.”
Tahir knew she was right, but the sway of her hips below her long, thick braids didn’t make it easy. Neither did her luscious scent…citrus and sexual excitement.
“I think we should get you away from the palace, away from your father who seems intent on chopping off your head.”
“But that’s just what the magician wants. She’s driving me from my home. Only I won’t go. I can’t go.”
“The library doesn’t seem like a good refuge.”
“If I can show my father how Badr—Badra—is manipulating us, he won’t behead me. He needs me. And I remember books from my childhood. They had information about the magician…”
And ovulation, the Impregnator in him noted. She smelled of ovulation. The shitani would notice that, too, if the woman posing as the magician’s assistant was to be believed. He tightened his grip on the dagger. “I’m not sure some arcane book will convince your father to accept you as you are.”
“That may be.” She shrugged. “But the issue at hand is bigger than his acceptance. It’s larger than my life.”
“You mean the safety of your land?”
“Yes, and I have this vague memory that the magician is an immortal. I remember something about the shitani, too. If we can show my father how to control them—”
“Or control her.”
“Exactly. If we can show him these things, the Land of the Moon won’t fall to the demons,” she said.
“Perhaps.”
“You sound doubtful.”
“The demons outnumber sands in the desert,” Tahir said. “How can anyone control them?”
“The magician seems to.”
“Or she lies.”
“She lies, but the demons have not attacked for years.”
He nodded. “Perhaps they can be controlled.”
“There is another advantage of seeking the library,” Shahrazad said.
“And what is that?”
“I think making the magician wait for us may be beneficial.”
“Rather than ineffectually chasing her from place to place?”
“Exactly. It’s this way,” she said, the gold tips of her braids clacking as she looked over her shoulder—missing him completely.
“Where are you?” She stopped suddenly and held out her hand, palm up.
He took it, luxuriating in its warmth. “Here.”
“You need to know this about me. I should have been married years ago. My father should have used me to solidify the marriage with the Raj long before he used—tried to use—Haniyyah, who is merely his niece.”
“Why didn’t he? Are you trying to tell me you’re secretly a camel?” The woman had no flaws as far as he could tell.
“I love books. I love to argue.”
He paused, trying to find the sense in this. “And that means…?”
“In my land, intelligence is not fostered in wives. In fact, many fathers refuse to teach their daughters how to read and write. Apparently, knowledge makes them less compliant.”
She was telling him this as if his opinion of her mattered, and what that did for his ego he’d never be able to put into words. “Let me introduce you to my mother,” he said finally. “Her power rivals that of your father.”
“So…you don’t mind?”
He wrapped his arms around her. “You amaze me.”
Suddenly, the hall went dark, and she froze in his embrace.
“Is this hall usually lit?” Tahir whispered, but he smelled the answer. Someone—or something—had recently extinguished the torches.
Badra sat in the small garden, letting the sound of the fountain soothe her nerves. If she meditated, perhaps she could regain some control of the demons. They weren’t
supposed to have attacked Prince Tahir. They weren’t supposed to show the guards that she’d left her cell. But when they’d sensed Tahir’s imminent penetration of the princess’s virginal flesh with his cock…it had overwhelmed their limited self-control, stupid creatures.
Turning her face to the moonlight, she tried to control her emotions, but the task proved difficult. She took a deep breath of the cool night air, held it, then exhaled. Still her mind brooded.
The shitani didn’t require a virgin queen as their ruler; she herself certainly hadn’t been one. But still, they wanted Princess Shahrazad all for themselves.
She took another deep breath, and paused this time, focusing on the space between the inhalation and exhalation. That was where her power resided. A fragile calm settled upon her.
My pretties, she called to them. My pretties, where are you?
They didn’t answer.
Badra let them go for a moment, considering other options. When the Sultan’s soldiers came for Shahrazad, Badra had thought the girl might flee, right to her. But, no. Shahrazad had not appeared through the gates or any of the doors. Nothing was easy. No doubt, the girl was taking her advice and heading toward the library—exactly the opposite of what she’d thought the girl would do.
My pretties, where are you?
Go away. We don’t listen to you. We won’t obey.
Her disconcertment nearly derailed her concentration. Why was nothing easy anymore? The demons hated her. The Sultan flatly refused her. Tahir’s sister was nearly useless, and the Princess Shahrazad was slow to bend to her will.
Try Prince Tahir, the demons suggested. He might do.
Badra wanted to strangle the demons. I can’t try anything if you refuse to obey, she said, but to herself she mulled over the idea of Tahir. He wasn’t a ruler in his own land, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t rule…
Badra regained control of herself. Inhale. The breath calmed her. Exhale. She released her anger. Inhale. She allowed peace to enter. Exhale.
She reached out toward her assistant, Tahir.
Unease filled Tahir as the princess confirmed his doubts. “I have never been here at this hour,” she breathed, “but yes. The torches have always been lit.” He could barely hear her whispered voice.
Running Wild Page 12
