Ember (7 page)

A
r
c
h
er
h
e
l
d
A
m
a
r
’
s
s
h
i
ft
i
n
g
ga
z
e
f
or
a
m
o
m
e
n
t
.
“
Y
ou
w
i
l
l
di
e
first
,
shou
l
d
you
d
e
c
e
iv
e
me,
”
h
e
pro
m
is
e
d
,
switching
to
Arabic
b
e
c
a
us
e
h
e
kn
e
w
sp
ea
king
in
Am
a
r’s
l
a
ngu
a
g
e
wou
l
d
irrit
a
t
e
th
e
ma
n
on
a
p
e
rson
a
l
l
e
v
e
l
,
a
nd
b
e
c
a
us
e,
r
ea
ll
y
,
thr
ea
ts
d
e
liv
e
r
e
d
in
Arabic
w
e
r
e
so
m
uch
m
or
e
lyric
a
l
.
“
F
or
m
y
a
ng
e
r
is
a
t
e
rribl
e
wind
th
a
t
strips
fl
e
sh
fro
m
bon
e.
”

The
gu
i
de
’
s
da
r
k
eyes
fl
ashed
i
n
t
he
go
l
den
li
gh
t
.
Cunn
i
ng,
p
l
ann
i
ng.
Ama
r
had
c
l
a
i
med
t
ha
t
a
sma
ll
band
of
t
h
i
eves
had
f
ound
Daoud
’
s
body
fir
s
t
.
Be
i
ng
t
h
i
eves,
t
hey
’
d
rifl
ed
t
h
r
ough
Daoud
’
s
c
l
o
t
hes.
A
r
che
r
d
i
dn
’t
ca
r
e
wha
t
money
t
hey
had
t
aken,
bu
t
if
t
hey
’
d
f
ound
some
c
l
ue
t
o
whe
r
e
Daoud
had
been,
A
r
che
r
wan
t
ed
t
o
know.

D
ao
u
d,
A
r
c
h
e
r
’
s
f
r
i
e
n
d
a
n
d
pe
r
s
o
n
al
s
e
c
r
e
t
a
r
y
,
h
ad been
sur
e
h
e
’d
found
a
cur
e
for
Arch
e
r
.
He
’d
s
e
nt
th
e
s
e
cr
e
t
hidd
e
n
on
a
ship
to
London
,
only
for
th
a
t
ship
to
be
cl
a
i
me
d
by
pir
a
t
e
s
a
nd
th
e
n
sunk
in
a
sudd
e
n
stor
m,
an
incid
e
nt
th
a
t
could
still
ma
k
e
Arch
e
r
tr
em
bl
e
w
ith
r
a
g
e.
if
Ama
r
h
a
d pl
a
ns
for
hi
m,
h
e
’d
be
co
m
p
e
ll
e
d
to
plot
th
em
now
w
ith
his
cohorts
.
“
I
follow
you
in
a
ll
things
,
s
a
yy
i
d
,
”
th
e
guid
e
said,
th
e
n

rod
e
a
h
ea
d
.

A
r
che
r
wa
it
ed
f
o
r
Amir
t
o
r
each
h
i
s
des
ti
na
ti
on,
c
l
os
i
ng
h
i
s
eyes
as
t
he
sun-baked
a
ir
danced
ove
r
h
i
m
i
n
a
ca
r
ess
t
ha
t
s
tirr
ed
h
i
s
r
obes.
Ene
r
gy
pu
l
sed
t
h
r
ough
h
i
s
li
mbs,
s
tr
ong,
unne
r
v
i
ng.
He
r
e,
i
n
t
h
i
s
l
and
of
hea
t
,
li
gh
t
,
and
mag
i
c,
he
f
e
lt
s
tr
onge
r
t
han
eve
r
,
capab
l
e
of
lifti
ng
h
i
s
ho
r
se
and
t
oss
i
ng
it
f
a
r
shou
l
d
t
he
des
ir
e
h
it
h
i
m.
Such
s
tr
eng
t
h

unn
e
rv
e
d
hi
m,
a
nd
y
e
t
ma
d
e
hi
m
f
ee
l
oddly
at
ho
me.
For
a
ll
th
e
inconv
e
ni
e
nc
e,
h
e
’d
a
lw
a
ys
been
fond
of
E
gypt
a
nd
h
e
r
a
nci
e
nt
m
yst
e
ri
e
s
.
I
f
on
l
y
…

N
o
.
He
wou
l
d
not
think
a
bout
h
e
r
.
N
ot
now
.
N
ot
wh
e
n
sh
e
h
a
unt
e
d
his
dr
eam
s
.
He
n
ee
d
e
d
his
w
its
a
bout
hi
m.
T
hinking
a
bout
silky
h
a
ir
th
e
color
of
gold
in
fir
e
light
wouldn’t
do.
N
or
wou
l
d
it
do
to
i
ma
gin
e
th
e
curv
e
of
h
e
r
upp
e
r
lip
,
so
plu
m
p
a
nd
fu
ll
.
He
’d
lick
his
wa
y
a
cross
th
a
t
luscious
curv
e
b
e
for
e
dipping
his
tongu
e…
Arch
e
r
shift
e
d
in
his
s
a
ddl
e
a
nd
gl
a
r
e
d
at
th
e
pyr
am
ids
.
N
o
.
O
n
l
y
th
e
nights
w
e
r
e
M
ir
a
nd
a
’s
,
only
his
dr
eam
s
.
S
h
e
h
a
d
no
pl
a
c
e
in
th
e
pr
e
s
e
nt
.