Chapter 39 #3
It’s believed that Zahhak’s not strong enough to use his powers in the Middleworld, not like when he snatched me from Iran in the first place.
My biggest regret was taking his offer of joining him in the Underworld, but I was young, newly orphaned.
I didn’t know any better. I’m not even sure he’ll want to come after me now.
He’s too preoccupied with his declining health and fending off the rebels.
This is the perfect time for me to go. I am excited. Terrified, but most of all excited.
When I stopped reading, I regarded Azar’s sleeping body.
Her snoring was annoying but also, though I would never admit it to her, comforting.
The rising racket was a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this nightmare.
I laid my head down on the bed, tucking the diary underneath the pillow before curling my body into Azar’s.
It was cold in the palace, but Azar was always warm.
I pressed my body into hers, like I remembered doing with Mum when I was little.
I must have woken her with my cold feet, because she made a noise of frustration but didn’t move away.
A light sleep overtook me for the first time in days, and I welcomed it.
And that was when I dreamed of him. Another version of him. Of us.
It was the era of miniskirts, suede vests, discos, and liberation.
My girlfriends and I were dancing in a disco.
The pulsing lights, flashing red, yellow, and blue, clouded my vision.
Bodies were pressed together, but we girls kept hold of each other, giddy with excitement at our first night out as legal adults.
We checked on each other as we danced, batting away unwelcome attention from strange men.
At some point in the night, through a sea of bodies, I locked eyes with him.
His dark eyes bored into mine, and I stopped dancing, entranced by this man.
The music, which had previously swelled, seemed to slow.
It was cliché and reality, all at the same time.
He made his way over to me, and my girlfriends must have noticed, because they nudged me in the ribs, giggling like the inexperienced girls we were.
In no time at all, he was in front of me while my friends danced together, giving us privacy.
“Have we met before?” he asked, lips curled into a smile that I knew so well—and yet I had never met him before, or at least that was what I thought.
I shook my head and said, “I don’t think so.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Strange.”
“Very strange,” I said, eyelashes fluttering. “My name is Mahsa.”
“Sam,” he said.
I flashed forward to the same version of us at a cliff’s edge. Sea air sharp and salty. I peered down at the water, which was crashing violently against the rocks, the blond-haired man I had fallen in love with beside me. His eyes were grief-stricken and yet so pure.
“We die together,” he said. “On our terms. Like we agreed.”
I nodded. “There’s no other way.” Despite the firmness of my tone, anxiety knotted in the depths of my stomach.
“We’ll be together again,” he said, stroking my cheek. I savored his warm touch, breathing him in while I still could.
He bent down to kiss me. It was tender before something snapped between us.
We were going to die; this would be the last time we kissed in this lifetime.
The kiss grew stronger with this knowledge, deeper, angrier—angry that we couldn’t be together because of some senseless agreement made hundreds of years ago.
He counted us down, until it was time to jump.
He threw himself off the cliff, and I had intended to join him, but only one leg raised over the edge.
I was too scared, too much of a coward. I saw his body fall over the edge, and I felt sick that he had really done it and I hadn’t yet. What did that say about me?
The next five seconds moved slowly; then I remembered I wouldn’t want to be alive without the love of my life. Of course I wouldn’t. Closing my eyes, I jumped. The air whipped around me, my face and body lashed a thousand times over.
The sea wasn’t quite as cold as I imagined it would be, and my fall was soft. When I opened my eyes, I saw that that was because I had not entered the water, and neither had Sam. We were hovering over it, and I was in his arms. His wings fanned the air, the sound a comfort.
“I don’t want you to die,” he said.
“But we agreed—”
“That’s what you said you wanted, but there must be another way.” The words were empty—we both knew it.
“They’ll kill us.”
“Well, let them try,” he said, eyes fierce. “But maybe this time will be different. Maybe we can reason with them.”
Even in the cold, with a pounding heart, I laughed. “Why would this time be different?”
“We have to hope,” he said.
“That’s why you’re of light. You hope for things.”
He shook his head. “You’re not like them; I only see goodness in you.”
I was a jinn, we both knew it, but he liked to pretend I was better than my ancestors.
He didn’t know about the bad things I did.
Even if he had, he would justify them. He would always see the good in me.
I didn’t say anything, just leaned my head into the crook of his neck as he flew us out of the cold, and through the night sky.
We would die soon, that much I knew, but not by our own hands.