Chapter 46
Dear Amma,
I had a dream about you. You were holding something out to me, but I couldn’t understand what you were saying. And when I tried to get to you, the River grew wide, too wide to swim across, and all I could do was scream.
—Letter from Yaseema Nazir to Mahira Nazir, written in Mahira Nazir’s journal
Yaseema
For the second time after spending the night with Kiyan, I woke up alone.
The bed beside me was warm and I knew it hadn’t been long since he’d left the tent.
I blinked, taking in my surroundings, not having studied them much before.
When I’d first walked into the tent, I’d assumed it was similar to the one I’d been recovering in across the camp, but I was wrong.
Curling vines similar to the ones Kiyan conjured held up a sprawling canvas, this time with small purple flowers along them.
In the center, a large desk—I felt my face heat at the memory of Kiyan and I kissing on that desk—but what I hadn’t noticed were all the scrolls, journals, notebooks, and leather-bound tomes littering the space.
Several bookcases were dotted around the tent, filled with peri knowledge my fingers itched to get a hold of.
This wasn’t the sterile encampment of the Viceroy, nor the opulent but stripped palace he inhabited.
This place felt like home, and I wondered how long this camp had been set up like this, with rebels moving and fighting and pushing back against the Viceroy.
I was naked, but I pulled the thin sheet from the bed and wrapped myself with it before walking toward a particularly stuffed bookshelf. Tucking the sheet under my arms, I went on my tiptoes and studied the books that filled the shelf.
It was a wealth of knowledge—peri plants of the River Court, history of its people, books on dialects here, and the history of the royal family.
I could barely find any of these books in the palace, and I wondered if they had been smuggled out to prevent the Viceroy from destroying them as he was attempting to control and rewrite the history of River, just as the Citadel did to us.
I pulled out the largest of the books on the shelf, the one I was most interested in—the history of Kiyan’s family. The royal family.
I still couldn’t believe he was related to the ancient fae Queen whose crown we searched for. I flipped inside the book, skipping past webs of lineage and marriages and turning to a chapter that detailed the history of the family’s magic.
The flap of the tent sounded behind me, and I turned to see Kiyan standing at the entrance, a tray in his hand filled with a veritable feast—cheese, dates, pomegranate, mangoes, and plums, alongside some flatbread and a steaming pot of coffee in an indigo dallah pot.
He seemed surprised to see me, and my face turned quizzical. Then I looked down at myself and realized that I was still only wearing a sheet because I was so absorbed in the book. I could feel my cheeks flush with heat.
“Sorry, I wanted to look at some of your books, I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s perfectly fine, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. It’s still quite early.”
“You’re awake,” I pointed out.
He flashed me a smile. “Yes, but I always wake before dawn.” He moved into the tent, pointedly not looking at me wrapped in his bedsheet and placed the food and coffee on his desk.
“I couldn’t sleep. Not with us leaving today.”
He gave a twist of his lips, and his gaze returned to the book in my hands. “What are you reading?”
“I’m brushing up on your family history.”
He raised his eyebrows, glancing at the cover of the book. “That one is a little dry. Most of it is a lineage tracing. I can tell you anything you want to know.”
I considered the offer, mostly wanting to take my mind off what was coming. But I was also curious. I knew he was in the royal family, that he was a Prince, but I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. “Who exactly is trapped in the Mountain?”
“My mother, brother, and sister,” he said without hesitation.
“And your mother is . . .”
“The Queen.”
I sucked in a breath.
A memory of the jaipari came to me, the words she’d said before sinking down into the black water again.
Good luck, princeling.
I’d spent the night with a fae Prince from the Court of River and I was currently wrapped in his bedsheet while he served me coffee.
Safiyya certainly wouldn’t believe this story even if she saw Kiyan with her own eyes. But I considered Kiyan’s words and thought about what he wasn’t saying.
“No other family?”
His brow darkened. “Like my father, we had other family members and members of the Court, but when Reza took over with King Rusul’s crown, he rounded them up, drained them of magic, and executed them all. I’ve been alone for a long time.”
I processed that, thinking about the fear he must have felt as a young boy. “I’m sorry. That can’t have been easy.”
His dark expression wiped from his face, and I had the feeling he had been lost to his memories.
He straightened and leaned back against his desk.
“It was what had to be done. I focused on the resistance and finding a way to free my family. Working for Reza meant that I could research ways to find Azari’s crown, and a way to destroy the crown he’d melted into his skin. ”
“How did you ingratiate yourself to the Viceroy? How did he ever trust you?”
He tilted his head. “The Viceroy was looking for people from our Court to work for him, especially to ferret out rebels. I proved myself useful to him, good at tracking and fighting. Moreover, I brought him rebels.”
I sucked in a breath. “How?”
“The initial captures were those who had betrayed the Court and assisted Salt to take over. I managed to persuade the Viceroy that they wanted to overthrow him as well. He eventually appointed me as captain of the Salt Guard. After that it became my mission to protect the rebellion—if one of us was captured, I either assisted them in escape or . . .” He trailed away, his face going dark again.
“Or you killed them,” I finished for him, my stomach dipping.
“It would have been a mercy. He would have tortured them before killing them.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“That sounds like an impossible choice.”
“Hopefully one I don’t have to make again.”
“Well, I don’t think you are captain of the Salt Guard anymore.”
He grinned at me, as if it were the lightest feeling in the world. “There is that.”
I gave him a soft smile, then plucked a date from the silver tray.
“I got you some clothes,” he said gruffly, producing slim black trousers and a blue beaded tunic from underneath the tray.
“You didn’t think I could bring this look to the battlefield?” I laughed and gestured to the sheet. His eyes followed the wave of my fingers, but he didn’t share my humor. Instead, he looked at me as if he wanted to devour me.
“As much as I want to keep you here, wearing that, we don’t have much time. Unless . . .”
He trailed away, and I rose my brow. “Unless?”
“Unless you don’t come. Not to the battlefield.”
I shook my head. “How will you find the crown if I’m not there? Or find the door to Tirich Mir?”
“There are other ways—you aren’t battle trained, and I don’t feel right about dragging you there.”
“I’m not being dragged, Kiyan, I’m the one who found the crown, and then I’m the one who lost it. I want to help get it back and free your family.”
“But it isn’t your fight. And I won’t use you like he did.”
“How can you say that after what happened? Do you think I spend the night with every double-crossing, rebel-hunting captain I come across? If you think this fight isn’t mine, then you haven’t been listening to me.
The Viceroy is bleeding your magic dry the exact same way the Citadel is doing to my people.
And someone has to stop them both. It would be utterly hypocritical of me to only focus on my own fight, when you aren’t free either.
Like you said, if both of us aren’t free, then neither of us are. ”
He swallowed, his throat bobbing, watching me. Something passed across his face, an intensity of emotion that I couldn’t place.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I whispered.
“I’m thinking, I don’t know what I did to deserve you on my side.”
“You kind of saved my life a few times, if you don’t remember.”
He grinned and headed toward the exit. “I’m going to ready the rebels. You have time for breakfast and to dress. I’ll leave you while we prepare.”
I dressed, listening to the sounds of the rebels gathering their weapons and testing their magic. But as I buttoned the last beaded button on my tunic, the tent flap opened again.
“I thought we weren’t leaving until . . .”
I expected Kiyan, not the girl who came through instead.
“Mishah.”
She looked uncharacteristically nervous. “I wanted to come and talk to you.”
“I think we talked enough last night.” I remembered her harsh words, and even though we’d resolved things in a small way, it still felt raw.
I thought of all the times we’d stayed up late, talking of our families, her helping me figure out the kitchens and the palace, when we’d been in the dungeons, and I’d thought there was someone on my side. We’d both been playing a role, but I wasn’t sure how much of hers was real or not.
“Yes, but I don’t think we talked properly—I was a little caught off guard with everything.
” She ran her hand through her hair. “And I was frustrated with Kiyan for what he did. I understand why he got you out of the palace, and I’m sorry for my part in that,” she rushed to say.
“But he blew an opportunity for us that may cost us today. It may cost us everything, to be frank. We have no advantage, certainly not one a kitchen girl could give us.”
“And yet, I didn’t make him do that. If you have an issue with his choices, those should be discussed with him.”
“I know that. I’m not explaining myself well.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “When you first came, I was too preoccupied to notice you much, but I liked you, even though you were strange. But then you saved my life.”
I remembered that day, the general holding her by the throat, her wild eyes.
I shifted uncomfortably. “It was the only thing I could do. I couldn’t just leave you there.”
“Yes, you could have. I hadn’t expected you to help me.
Truthfully, no one in the palace would have done what you did.
The Viceroy’s wrath was far too pervasive for anyone to take risks for each other in there.
But you came in and you cared. You weren’t afraid or desensitized to the violence.
That’s what was different about you. You gave a shit about those around you, and it surprised me.
The general had caught on to me, but if I had killed him, it might have revealed the rebels in the palace.
So, I could only defend myself. But when you came in, you didn’t care about the consequences, only about what you thought was right. ”
“And look where it landed us.”
“But what I mean to say is, I’m glad you did what you did.
I’m glad we ended up in that dungeon together, and I’m glad that we met.
You asked me yesterday if we were ever friends, and the truth is, I don’t think I’ve really ever had a real friend before meeting you.
Fellow fighters, rebels, lovers, yes. But not someone who I could really talk to, not like we did.
Not someone who would have helped me like that. ”
I exhaled, some of the heaviness in my chest lifting.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I wasn’t completely delusional about you after all.”
“Well, I’m not sure about that.”
We smiled at each other, and it dispelled some of the fear and anticipation heavy in the air.
Whatever happened when we met Reza and the Court of Salt in battle, he would never win.
Because he would never have what we did.
He would never feel the friendship and camaraderie of a loyalty that went beyond a command, a loyalty based on love.