The Bodyguard
“Yildiz?”
The whisper pulled me from hazy dreams. I blinked, the light high above blinding me momentarily. I stared into familiar blue irises and shot up, wrapping my arms around Dayyan’s neck. He groaned and fell back. His arms came around me, and I clutched him tight, nearly strangling him.
“You are alive.”
His face melded into my neck, his nose sifting through the disarrayed braids escaping my disheveled chadar. He inhaled, breathing in before grumbling.
“Roses. The bane of my existence. I never knew how much power they would have over me until I met you.”
My stomach rumbled at that very moment and we both chuckled.
“I feel as if I haven’t eaten in months.”
“I could devour a mountain of dates,” Dayyan replied.
My mirth died when I glanced toward the exit, which was barred by a pile of fallen rocks.
Dayyan slowly rose, his large hands gripping my waist as he lifted me along with him.
I stared at his robes, noticing the gaping hole where Farani had stabbed him.
I touched the space there. My fingers ran over the healed skin in wonder.
I glanced at the doors and saw they were wide open, glittering golden roots calling to me from within. I had thought it had all been a dream, but had the roots truly healed him? Had my prayers been answered?
We treaded forward, stepping through the doors and falling into another world.
A yellow glow flooded the path before us.
We moved forward into air that seemed to shimmer.
I reached out, brushing my fingers over the fluttering leaves, and came away covered in sparkling dust. A towering tree formed the center of the golden kingdom.
“How did it open?” I asked Dayyan. “The prophecy speaks of a blessed princess. My hands are dirty with the blood of those I killed. I am a murderer.”
Dayyan touched the tree, appearing dazed. “As am I, and yet the roots healed me. Why?”
Silence encompassed us as we admired the ethereal surroundings. Dayyan stepped closer to me.
“Perhaps the prophecy wasn’t speaking of what appears outward but rather”—he lifted our joined hands and placed them over my chest, right above my heart—“what is in here.”
I slipped my hand from his and pressed my palm to his chest. “And here.”
He stared at me as though he didn’t truly believe me.
“I read your journal.”
He stiffened.
“I understand now. Why you did the things you did. The deeds you committed were terrible, but you didn’t do them of your own free will.”
He shook his head. “It was me holding the blade. I do not deserve your pity.”
“Dayyan.” I grasped his arm as he turned to move, bringing him back to me. “You were a child used for the gain of a wicked shah.”
“I am not a child any longer.” His voice rose in a wave. “To be deemed innocent or unknowing of the sins I’ve committed. If you knew all of what I’ve done, you would never waste another moment on me.”
“I do not care,” I whispered. “What matters to me is now. We can change everything. We can stop Farani and your father before more havoc erupts. Join the South and North for good under a just rule.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me so I can.”
His mouth opened, and for a moment, I believed he would spill the truth that was haunting him. But then his lips clamped together, and whatever it was he’d wanted to say closed up within him. He blinked and looked about us.
“We will not use these roots. It will endanger the desert. Everyone will fight over them. My father would kill his entire family if it meant he could possess them.”
We both were in agreement, and I decided to take only a few of the roots to give to Wahe before we stepped out of the golden kingdom.
The doors thudded closed behind us. We went to work on the stones, hefting them aside.
Dayyan paused at one point, staring at the spot across from us—where Bahir’s body had lain, now buried beneath the rocks.
I placed my hand upon Dayyan’s arm, comforting him without words.
He swallowed and forced his gaze away, returning to work with brutal energy.
One by one, we tore at the stones until we were able to clamber through the large gap we’d created.
We were sweaty and exhausted by the time we emerged from the mountain and into the daylight.
We reunited with our mounts. They appeared drained and thirsty, but their loyalty had kept them waiting.
I fed them the small roots I had taken for Wahe.
We mounted up and rode toward the North, ensuring we stayed away from paths that wild men tracked. Dayyan concealed his secret, and I didn’t press him for it. But a tense air hovered between us because of it.
When we reached the Marz, sentries shouted at the sight of us. The gates swung open and we rode inside. Guards surrounded us. I slid off Wahe, and Dayyan hopped off Azarkhosh. A smile creased his eyes when he caught sight of a man brushing through the throng of guards.
“Mustafa, it is good to see you.”
The man did not return the sentiment, at first looking stunned and then clearing his expression. “We didn’t think you still lived. There has been no word of you for two weeks.”
The words brought a chill over me. Two weeks? How long had we been unconscious in the cave? Mustafa waved at the guards. Shamshirs were unsheathed, boxing us in.
Dayyan frowned. “What are you doing?”
Mustafa’s face was grim. “By orders of Shah Jihangir, you are to be detained on sight.”