Chapter 38
The dining table was long, with Zahhak at the head of it and Azar and I in the center, facing each other.
The other end was empty. The walk from the bedrooms to the dining room was confusing, possibly deliberately so.
The place was built like a maze, and my sense of direction was poor in my calmer moments, let alone when trying to plan our escape.
Rabiya lay dormant within me, inconveniently not reminding me of the lay of the palace.
We went down three sets of stairs, round bends and identical corridors, dimly lit and windowless.
We hit a final set of stairs, which was more ornately decorated than the others, wide with grape ivy plants wrapped around the banister.
The floor was tiled, unlike the concrete of the other floors.
The maidens stayed close behind us during the walk.
Azar had tried to make a run for it once during our descent; using her weaker powers, she glided in the opposite direction, smoke billowing about five feet before the maidens caught up with her and pinned her down.
They kept hold of Azar the entire way after that, pinning her hands behind her back while she groaned that they were holding her too tightly and were hurting her.
I didn’t know what power they had, but it was sobering.
Zahhak had entered after us, dressed differently from all the other times I’d seen him.
He wore a cream floor-length gown with belts of jewels around his waist and arms. Atop his head was an unreasonably tall crown made of gold with emerald and ruby stones.
At the center was the face of a snake, covered in white diamonds, with two black diamond eyes.
His beard was better groomed, though just as long as it had been all the other times I’d seen it.
He was so ornately dressed that the snakes sprouting from his neck were not the first thing I noticed, though they made their presence known with their sharp hissing, at us specifically.
“Welcome,” he said, smiling at us like the delusional Jinn King he was. “It is nice to see you two here together.”
Chandeliers with lit candles glittered above us, a clump of hot wax falling onto the middle of the table, making me jump.
“Are you expecting anyone else?” Azar asked, settling into the high-backed chair. I don’t know how she pretended to be comfortable. I was hunched over in my seat, ripping the skin from around my nails to stop from screaming or throwing up.
My eyes shot to the empty seat at the opposite end of the dining table. I didn’t want to voice what I feared, though when I made eye contact with Azar, I knew she was thinking the same thing: If he seemed this delighted to have us together, where did that put our brother?
Zahhak let out a humorless laugh, though it was more of a bark, really.
He clicked his fingers behind him, and a thin man wearing a white tunic and trousers approached with a bottle of red wine.
He began filling Zahhak’s glass, the liquid much thicker than any wine I’d seen before.
He filled it almost to the top before coming to Azar’s side and pouring her a glass, then me.
“You don’t plan to bring Ehsan here, do you?” I asked, my words slow. I debated whether to speak the possibility into existence, but I needed to know.
“No; he is not part of the original family. And I’m only focused on reuniting my family. I did gently wake him to interrupt your little chat with Zain, though.”
Short-term relief.
“So let me get this straight: You’re trying to bring together the family you lost two centuries ago?” Azar said.
“Correct. It’s not the case that in every lifetime you, your mother, and your sister are reborn together. This is unique, a sign, perhaps, that I should have taken seriously before your mother was killed.”
I clamped down on the rising anger at his words. “What’s your plan, then?” I asked. “You can’t keep us locked up forever. People will come for us eventually.” My voice wavered. Would they?
Zahhak’s lips were set in a fine line, interrupted only by him taking a long sip of his wine.
When he put it back down, the glass was half empty—impressive, really—and his lips had a pink hue.
He then lifted the glass to the snake on his right side, and its tongue shot out, lapping up the red liquid.
The snake on his left began to make a high-pitched sound, and Zahhak chuckled, muttering, “Your time will come,” before moving the glass to his left to allow that snake his fill of the wine.
“Gross,” Azar muttered.
“Hello?” I pressed.
“My plan is to stop this nonsense once and for all. You are jinn, not human. Your jinn genes will always overpower the weaker human side. Your mother was foolish for leaving the Underworld in the first place and bringing you up as she did. Especially given your history, Roxana.
“I’ve already told your sister about the tragedy we have faced in the Underworld, but allow me to enlighten you, azizam.
Thirty years ago, the dirty div attempted a revolt.
They, alongside lower-level jinn, raided the palace.
They killed every member of the royal family, ruthlessly hunting them down both inside the palace and out.
I evaded them, obviously, but it put me in what you would call a bit of a pickle.
I had no heirs, no family left, and I was left to gather the souls of each and every family member.
It may take me centuries, but I will rebuild the palace, starting with you two.
So rather than kill you, Roxana, as I often assisted the angels in doing in the past, now I will shield you.
From him. I’ve come to realize that our bloodline is too valuable. ”
He stifled a smile, running his finger along the rim of his now-empty glass. He clicked his fingers behind his head, and the servant appeared once more, with a fresh bottle. His glass was refilled. The stench of metal hung heavy in the air and mingled with other scents—dust, oud, smoke, and damp.
“And besides, killing you has never stopped the issue from arising every half a century, so perhaps it’s time to try a different approach.
There is also the treaty to consider, and it must be upheld.
It took a lot to join forces with those of light, but we agreed to do all we could to stop anything like that child from existing again.
To go against that…would not be good. For any of us.
Those of light might be inferior, but they are pesky and there are a lot of them.
Like vermin. A war with them would be costly for our side. ”
While he spoke, Azar lifted the wine to her nose, and then her face crumpled. She dropped the glass back onto the table, spilling some of it in the process. The wine stained the white tablecloth, turning the linen splotchy with what looked like blood. Except surely it wasn’t actually…
“You’re drinking blood?” Azar shot out with disgust.
“Oh, grow up,” Zahhak said, his gaze shifting between us like he was disappointed. “Your mother brought you up poorly, truly.”
“That doesn’t answer the question,” I said.
“It’s blood, Rox. Smell it,” Azar said.
“No thanks.” I shifted back in my seat.
“If a little bit of blood frightens you…” Zahhak began.
“Well, let’s just say you’re going to need to be prepared for the reality of being jinn.
But you know that, don’t you, Roxana? That spilling blood is rather simple.
The first kill is always the hardest, and you did that with relative ease.
” He smiled, enjoying the bomb he’d so casually dropped between us.
I said nothing, focusing my gaze on the spot of blood on the linen.
“Rox?” Azar hissed. “What is he talking about?”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t me. Rabiya took over,” I said in a small voice.
“My dear azizam,” Zahhak drawled. “That was all you.”
I lifted my gaze to Azar, who was staring at me with wide eyes, lips slightly parted. Perhaps it was seeing the devastation on my face that snapped her out of it, her jaw tight as she turned on the Jinn King.
“What if we don’t want to be part of this?
What if we just want to be normal—” she began, but was cut off by Zahhak snapping, “You are not normal. You’re both so much more.
Especially you, Azar. I know you feel war in your blood.
You are a warrior; you have always been a warrior, long before females were even allowed to be them.
Denying yourself of your greatness would be foolish. ”
Four servants entered, each holding a plate in their hand. They stood behind our chairs, even the one that sat empty across from Zahhak, before delicately placing the plates of food in front of us.
The dish contained a scattering of pomegranate seeds, nuts, and an assortment of diced fruit. A vegetarian meal, after a glass of blood, was not what I was expecting. My stomach growled in response to the plate, betraying me.
“Eat,” Zahhak said, like we needed his permission to do so.
“I thought you said no one else was coming,” Azar said, eyeing the empty chair and full plate.
“I said your brother wasn’t coming, not that we were not expecting another guest,” he said. “I wanted time to explain before he arrived, but I became distracted.”
There was a tap on the door, before Red Lapels entered. “Keyon Jafarzadeh has arrived.”
“Let him in,” Zahhak said, clasping his hands together. He turned to me, though I found it hard to keep eye contact. “Roxana, let me introduce you to your suitor and soon-to-be betrothed, Keyon Jafarzadeh.”
“Betrothed?” Azar yelled before I could.
A boy entered the dining room. I vaguely recognized him, though he was dressed differently this time, more like my grandfather than when I had last seen him.
He wore navy trousers and a matching tunic embroidered with gold thread down the collar and lapels.
His face was still sharp lines, cutting, which made sense now that I knew he was a jinn.
“King,” he said to Zahhak, doing a small bow.