The Fire Wish (25 page)

RAHELA AND I stood against the wall just inside the harem doors, waiting for our escort to the welcoming feast. We had received notification earlier that they were holding a celebration to welcome me to the palace, in lieu of the wedding feast. I was wearing my sleeves pulled down low because I had accidentally scrubbed off some of the henna that morning and a corner of the eye was peeking out. We hadn’t had time to reapply the henna. Rahela had started chewing on her bottom lip when we noticed my mark, and she hadn’t stopped. I could see it through her sheer veil.

There was a knock on the door, and I opened it. Prince Kamal was on the other side. He bowed his head, keeping his eyes on me. His lashes were thick and shadowed his green irises. He had a cream-colored turban wrapped around his head, and with the folds perfectly placed and hiding his hair, he looked so different from the boy he’d been last night, playing his oud. This was the prince, one of the most important men in the caliphate. This was not a boy.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to be your escort,” he said.

“Of course.” I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible, and took Rahela’s hand, pulling her out of the harem. I needed her there to remind me of who I was trying to be. I forgot whenever Kamal was nearby. “I didn’t realize we would be eating with you today.”

Kamal looked sideways at me. “It won’t be the average meal. We’re celebrating a small victory in battle. And Hashim wanted you there.” Facing forward now, he took us down the corridor, away from the Lamp and the House of Wisdom.

We walked past a line of windows covered in wooden screens. The latticework was a merging of eight-pointed stars and triangles in a pattern that seemed designed by nature, like the salt crystals growing in one of the Cavern’s tunnels. Each window was identical to the others, so I was able to study the details while we walked. I was trying to distract myself, because soon I’d be sitting with Kamal, Hashim, and some men who had had a victory—probably against my own people.

Kamal didn’t speak again until we reached the end of the corridor and a set of opened doors. String music and drumming streamed out.

“Don’t be alarmed by the soldiers. They’ve had a rough ride today, and several are wounded. They won’t speak to us, so don’t worry about having to interact with them,” he said, standing still and straight. “They may, however, stare at you.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Most of us have never seen a princess like you before.”

His words held something in them, something I couldn’t decipher. Rahela snickered quietly behind me, and I worried
there was something wrong with my appearance. Had I not dressed appropriately? No, she wouldn’t have let that happen. Why had she snickered? When he didn’t elaborate, I pulled my sleeves down to my knuckles and followed him across the threshold.

Walking into the dining hall was like stepping into very cold water. All my senses were on alert, because most of the people in the room turned to watch us.

Along two walls with opened windows, on dozens of bolsters, sat the entire court and a good many soldiers. Most of them were men, lounging on their sides and laughing with their neighbors, but there were a few women I recognized from the harem, more by the colors of their veils than by their faces.

In the center of the room, propped up on a shallow platform, sat five men with a few ouds and a set of drums. They were the source of the music I’d heard down the corridor. They were playing just loud enough to be heard over the many voices echoing in the room.

Kamal turned and urged us to follow him past the people on the floor, past the platform with musicians, to a set of bolsters at the opposite end of the hall. As we made our way across, I felt too many eyes on me. I looked up to avoid them and found myself beneath a sky of glass lanterns. They hung from the mosaic ceiling like spiders from their webs. Glowing, smoking spiders.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Rahela whispered, and I realized she had probably never seen anything like it either.

When I looked back down, I saw Hashim and a man dressed in leather armor watching me. Kamal sat beside the
vizier and gestured for me to sit on the other side of him. Grateful that I wouldn’t have to sit beside Hashim, I sank as gracefully as I could manage onto a red silk cushion.

Before me stretched the hall and its many hanging lights, its low tables filled with strangers, and the musicians. Many had stopped talking, and they turned to face where Kamal and I sat.

Hashim leaned forward and looked at me. “Princess Zayele,” he said, just loud enough for our table to hear, “I hope you do not mind that we’ve paired your welcome celebration with that of our army.” He didn’t sound like I was allowed to mind.

“Thank you for inviting me,” I replied. Then I looked to Kamal. He was only a few inches away, sitting cross-legged and leaning back against the wall.

Hashim looked out across the hall, and lifted a cup. “Friends, we’re here to celebrate the future union of Prince Kamal and this princess from Zab.” Applause and whistles filled the air. “But we are also here to share some much-needed good news. Our esteemed
qaa’ed
,” he said, pointing at the man to his left, “has returned with a message from Prince Ibrahim. The army has broken through a jinni guard, killing several of their precious Shaitan. Prince Ibrahim’s soldiers are holding their position at the mouth of the Basra Tunnel.”

This time, the applause and whistles were so loud the windows shook in their frames. But I couldn’t clap. I had frozen, gripping the edge of my cushion, when he said some Shaitan had been killed. It was like I’d been hit in the stomach.
Atish.
I hadn’t thought of him all day. I’d been too preoccupied with pretending to be Zayele, and with trying to find something
in the book I’d taken. I’d been too distracted by Kamal. By a human.

“Are you all right?” Kamal whispered. He placed his hand beside mine till they were almost touching.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m just nervous. There are so many people here.”

“Let the food be served,” Hashim called out. His voice was like sandpaper on my nerves. “We shall celebrate, because tomorrow, our great prince will return. And he may have some jinn with him.”

The musicians picked up their instruments and erased the silence with the rhythm of a flowing river, of birds in the air, and of the wind blowing across a garden. This was music we’d never be able to make in the Cavern.

A side door opened, and a stream of servants entered carrying huge platters of rice, lentils, and roasted lamb. My stomach, an iron knot of nerves, practically cried in relief when one of the lamb platters was set down before me.

I had never eaten this sort of food. It was richer and tastier than grilled blindfish, and it got better with each bite. Even the rice, fragrant and golden, was like something from another world.

For a few minutes, our table was quiet while we ate. Rahela was moaning in pleasure each time she took a bite, and I laughed at her.

“I can’t help it,” she whispered. “This is better than anything I’ve ever had. What did they add to the rice?”

Kamal leaned across me, and I pressed myself against the
wall. “Saffron. It comes from near your region. Are you certain you’ve never had any?”

Rahela shook her head. “Never, Prince Kamal. It must be secretly guarded by—”

“It is protected,” Hashim cut in, raising his embroidered cuff. “It requires a special guard just to transport it. The guard skirts around Zab, which is why you do not hear of it. I, too, had not known of it before arriving in Baghdad.”

“Why is it not shared?” I asked.

“It’s too precious for sharing. Just as jinn do not wish to share their jewels, the cultivators of saffron do not share except with a handful of houses.” Hashim rubbed his thumb in a circle over the molding on his cup. I noticed with a start that it was emblazoned with a lion in the same style as the mark of the Shaitan.

It was as if he knew, somehow, what I was. I looked down to check on my mark, but it was still just a speck of blue, and I’d kept it hidden so far.

“Well, it’s delicious. I’m sorry you haven’t had it before,” Kamal said. Then he turned to Hashim. “Is it true Ibrahim will arrive tomorrow?”

“I believe so,” Hashim replied. Then, without looking at the man beside him, he asked, “
Qaa’ed
, can you tell us more?”

“Yes, Vizier. Prince Ibrahim fought valiantly. Everyone in the regiment did, although we suffered more casualties than we would have liked. The Shaitan were not brought down until the end.”

“But they were brought down,” Hashim said.

“Yes. And when we have the new weapon, it will happen at the start of battle.”

Kamal set down a leg of lamb and wiped his hand on a cloth. “
Qaa’ed
, how is it you’ve heard of this? It is still a secret.”

The
qaa’ed
smiled faintly. “I heard from Prince Ibrahim himself, last night. He said that you, Prince Kamal, were developing something. He told the entire regiment, saying it might be our last battle in which we had the lower ground.”

“Hashim,” Kamal hissed, “we weren’t going to tell Ibrahim yet. It isn’t ready.”

“But it is, my boy. Or it will be by the time Ibrahim arrives.”

Curiosity was burning through me, and I could not resist all the years of training I’d had in gathering information. I put my fingertips on the sleeve of Kamal’s tunic.

“Prince Kamal, what weapon is this you speak of?” I asked. I forced my face to appear calm. “Will it help us defeat the jinn?”

He turned and looked shaken, as if he’d forgotten I was there. “I can’t speak of it. I shouldn’t. But yes, it will help. My greatest hope is that it will end the fighting, once and for all.” He looked down at his plate, but didn’t touch the food.

“Princess Zayele,” Hashim added, “it will not only end the fighting. It will end the possibility of any future wars as well. Your prince here has developed the perfect weapon.”

The perfect weapon.
Kamal had been working on a
weapon
when I first saw him, not just playing around with rocks. And although his father had dismissed his idea, Hashim clearly thought it was a good one.

The jinn’s only hope was that the image of the selenite
orb I had obtained would help them counter the effects of the weapon. The problem was, the effects were still a mystery. And I was stuck in the palace, playing princess.

I didn’t know what to say in response, so I filled my cup with water and drank it. It did nothing to wash away the fear building up in my throat.

Hashim and the
qaa’ed
began discussing something in hushed tones, and while I tried to listen in, Kamal leaned closer to me.

“Zayele, please don’t look so upset. We’ve spent too much time and too many resources on the war with the jinn. So many, actually, that the caliphate is at risk of falling. This weapon will help us get into the Cavern, and if we can get to the jinn, we can force an end to the war. We’ll prevent future deaths.”

I twisted the napkin on my lap, watching the oils from the lamb soak into the fibers. “What will this weapon do to the jinn?”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” he said. He took my hand in his, but kept it below the table. “Can we meet again in the garden tonight?”

I tried to concentrate on Atish, on Faisal, on this mysterious weapon, but all I could think of was his hand on mine. On my mark. My skin tingled like he was pouring all the power of a wish into the bones of my hand.

“I promise we won’t talk about the war,” he said. His voice was deeper than it’d been a moment ago. Was he feeling something too? “Just music, and maybe you can recite for me some of the poems from your homeland.”

“Yes,” I said, watching as a man scurried into the hall. His face was dark and strained, and he was heading to our table.

Kamal dropped my hand and stood up. “Is it my father?” he asked the man.

“Yes. Prince Kamal, you need to come. He is failing.”

The music stopped, and the entire hall took a breath. Kamal stood up and ran past the platform of musicians, past the stunned faces of the court, and out the door.

I PUSHED THE crystal off my lap, and it hit the ground with a thud. I pinched my arm, just to make sure I was back in Faisal’s office and not in some memory, and then shut my eyes.

“Zayele?” Faisal asked. His voice was gentle, and in it I could feel the pain he’d felt when he left Mariam on the ground, dying. When he left me behind.

I looked up. “You didn’t come back for me.”

He shook his head. “I did, but they were expecting me. The women never took their eyes off you, not even at night. I was going to wait until they calmed down, but then word came of the attack in the House of Wisdom.” He clenched his fist. “My brother died in retaliation for what the humans thought I had done. They slit his throat while he was translating Aristotle. After that night, everything changed. We retreated, snuffed the flames of the Lamps, and waited.”

He reached for the crystal and I picked it up and handed it to him, passing my mother’s last memories into his hand. A
few minutes ago, I had known who I was. Now everything had changed. I wasn’t
me.