فصل 06

six

“Goddamnit, Fazim.” I shoved him away. I guess he made it out alive from the pistol pit after all. And he’d called me Bandit. He knew. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Fazim let me go, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He took two steps away from me, to the edge of the shadows between the two houses. He didn’t need to guard me all that close. We both knew I didn’t have anywhere to run.

“Do you always drag girls behind your house to beat them up for putting a knee in your sweetheart’s gut?” I leaned back against the weak wooden frame.

“Marry me.” He said it so suddenly, for a second I just stared at him with my jaw still moving.

Then I burst out laughing.

I couldn’t help it. He looked so damn pleased with himself. Like he really expected me to say yes. “Well, paint me purple and call me a Djinni, if that isn’t the dumbest thing I’ve heard all day.” I shoved bloody hair off my face.

He was still grinning. “You’ve got nice eyes, you know. There was someone else with eyes like yours out in Deadshot last night. Blue-Eyed Bandit, they called him. Got me thinking, not many people in this desert with eyes like that.”

Of all the times for him to grow some brains. “You saying I’ve got a long-lost brother?”

“You know what I’m saying, Amani.” He stepped toward me, and I fought everything in me telling me to step back. Only a few feet away the commotion over the Buraqi was still making a racket, but just then it felt like the world had narrowed to Fazim and me. “And you’re going to marry me so that no one else finds out.”

“And what’s the next part?” My eyes darted to the opening between the two houses. I saw a flash of colorful khalat as someone rushed by. I willed the next person to look our way. “You tell me you’re in love with me and these months with Shira have been a big ruse while you were waiting for my mother to be dead a year?”

Fazim grinned. Like he’d just been waiting for me to ask. “Well, until you caught that Buraqi, Shira was my best shot in town to get me on the way to rich.”

“And she’ll get you even further that way once my uncle sells it.” Was that why Shira had flung herself into the fray? To get this idiot to marry her, for love or money?

“See, I’ve thought it all out, though.” He tapped his head. He was pretty dumb to be acting like he was the smartest man ever born. “Sure, if I marry Shira I’d get a little bit of that money. But seeing as you caught it, if you were to get married, the Buraqi wouldn’t belong to your uncle no more.”

It would belong to my husband.

Damn him. He wasn’t clever, but he was right. And worse, he was serious. Here was the moment I’d been trying to outrun, only it wasn’t coming at my uncle’s hand.

Anger burned my fear straight out of me. “I’d rather shoot myself.” I’d rather shoot you.

“You wouldn’t have to.” He was still smiling, his teeth looking too big for his handsome face. “The army will probably do it for you once I tell them you were with that foreigner they’re after.” His gaze stripped me all the way from my blue eyes to my boots. “Of course, they’ll probably torture you first.”

I smiled at him sweetly instead of knocking his teeth in. “Still sounds better than a lifetime married to you.”

Fazim’s hand slammed into the wall behind my head, scaring the smirk straight off me. “You know, I don’t have to wed you first.” His voice was low, his smile still fixed, like he thought he was charming me. “I can make you worthless. Then you’d have no choice. You could marry me or hang. If you’re anything like your mama, you’ve got a fine neck for hanging.” His free hand traced a line along my throat. I could best just about any man in this desert if I had a gun. But now I was unarmed and helpless.

“Fazim.” Shira’s voice saved me. “What are you doing?”

Fazim pulled away, just far enough for me to see Shira standing in the narrow opening between the two houses. Her mouth was pressed together in that way I remembered from when we were little, when she was trying not to cry. I pulled away from him and scrambled back toward the street. My pace slowed just as I passed Shira. I thought she might stop me, stick an arm out and demand to know what I was doing between a wall and her lover. But she stepped aside at the last moment, her eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

I bolted for home.

• • •

I HAD TO leave. Bluffing took more brains than Fazim had. He’d go to the army and tell them I knew about their traitor. I wasn’t going to beg Jin. I was going to make him take me with him.

I paused in the doorway into my uncle’s house, listening for any noise that might mean I wasn’t the first one to get back to the house. When I was sure, I stepped inside, letting the floorboards creak below my boots, praying this would be the last time I ever walked over that threshold.

I snatched up everything I could find that I thought might belong to me from the chaos of the bedroom floor, and a few things I knew didn’t.

I dashed into the boys’ room. It was even worse than ours, with clothes piled halfway up the walls; I grabbed a shirt that seemed as clean as anything got around there. Across the house the front door banged open. I heard Aunt Farrah call my name.

I slung the shirt around my neck as I eased myself through the window, dropping to the sand below before she could think to check the boys’ room.

The main street was busy with folks hanging lanterns, setting out tables of food to sell, and tuning their instruments in the last dredges of daylight. We’d had nothing to celebrate since Shihabian, the longest night of the year, when we remembered the time the Destroyer of Worlds brought darkness and celebrated the returning of the light. That’d been near a year ago now. The Last County was thirsty for celebration. There would be plenty tonight. I just wouldn’t be here for it.

Nobody noticed when I slipped into the store, shutting the door on the noise of the street. As soon as I did, I knew it was too quiet. The floorboards creaked under my feet as I took a step into the shop. Dust motes danced between the shelves.

“Jin?” I whispered into the shop. I felt stupid just for saying it.

I was too late.

He’d gone.

I didn’t know why I’d figured he would stay.

The shirt hung loose in my fingers. It was stupid of me to think he would help me anyway; he didn’t owe me anything. Besides, this was the desert; everybody looked out for himself.

For one wild moment I considered running to the young commander. I could sell Jin out to them before Fazim sold me out. No. I shook the thought off as soon as it came. I’d never be traitor enough to go to the army.

I shoved the shirt in my bag. I’d just have to find another way out of town before they got to me.

The sun had finished setting by the time I made my way back out of the store, and Dustwalk was lit for celebration. Small oil lanterns strung between houses and torches burning in the street lit up the sorry spectacle. What was left of our food was laid on tables to sell, but liquor was flowing freely as folks wove through the music and sang along. I gave it another few drinks before someone got into a fight.

Half of the Last County was here by now, come to see the Buraqi, which was tethered in the center of town, tossing its head angrily. Uncle Asid was trying to soothe it, but the immortal beast was getting more and more worked up with the crush of bodies jostling to touch it. Finally my uncle started to lead it away from where it might kick a person’s head in. I kept one eye on it and the other out for Fazim as I pushed through the crowd, dodging dancers and drunks.

Something whacked hard into my ankles, shooting pain up my leg. I kicked back without thinking and turned to see Tamid standing just out of reach in the crush of people, propped on his crutch and looking all innocent, like he hadn’t just hit me with it.

“Come on now, you’re not going to kick a cripple, are you?” he joked. I wanted to smile back, but I felt like someone had wrung me out. Tamid’s own good mood flickered uncertainly. “Well, um, I’ve been looking for you.” He stumbled over his words, making my heart swell. I was going to miss him like fire. I’d always known at the back of my mind there’d come a day when I’d leave and he’d stay behind, but I hadn’t expected it to rush in on us so quickly. “Here.” He pressed something into my hand. “Seemed like you took a bit of a beating capturing that Buraqi.” It was a small glass bottle with white powder pills bumping in the bottom. Pain pills. The kind his father made his money from, selling them to factory workers who got hurt on the job. Or when they shot each other to settle a fight.

“It’s the kind that knocks you out, isn’t it?” I knew the medicines better than I’d like. I’d had enough lashings for my smart tongue in the last year. “I can’t take it.” I tried to hand the pills back. I took a deep shuddering breath. “I’m going to make a run for it on the Buraqi. Want to come?”

Tamid smiled gamely. “Sure, where are we going?” He figured I was joking. I didn’t answer. I just held up my bag for him to see. It registered on his face slowly. “Amani . . .” There was an edge to the way he said my name, like he needed to have enough fear for the pair of us. “You’re likely to get yourself hanged.”

“I’m just as likely to die here.” I pulled him aside, out of the crowd, next to the schoolhouse so we were out of the way. Wild recklessness had been building in my bones for hours. Days. Weeks. Years. And it filled up too much of me to let in anything else just now. “And they could do a lot worse than hang me.” The truth came out in a rush as the celebrations carried on around us. Everything—about my uncle, Jin, and Fazim, and how Jin left without taking me with him, and how Fazim blackmailed me to wind up wed or dead if I stayed. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to wed anyone. Not him. Not my uncle.

“And in what part of this brilliantly thought-out plan were you going to tell me you were leaving?” He looked wounded.

“I didn’t think . . .” I swallowed hard against the guilt welling up. I hadn’t really thought. That was the truth of it. There’d been no time to think. No room to think about anything other than Fazim and getting away. “You weren’t ever going to come, Tamid,” I said softly. “You’re only going to try to make me stay, and I’m in too much trouble to stay.”

“You wouldn’t be in trouble if you’d just stayed put instead of running off to the pistol pit in the first place. Why didn’t you talk to me? We could’ve figured something out together, you and I. Why do you always—” Tamid bit off his words in a breathy huff. “You always have to make things so difficult.” A long silence stretched out between us in place of the argument we’d had a hundred times. “I know what to do.” Tamid wasn’t looking at me. In the shadow of the house cast by the swinging lamplight, it was hard to read his expression. I cast my eyes around nervously, keeping my eyes out for any sign of Fazim. “You could—you could marry me.”

That pulled my attention back. “What?”

“Fazim can’t do anything if you’re already wed.” He looked so terribly earnest, it made me want to reach out to him. “I could keep you safe. From him. From the army. From your family. You wouldn’t even have to live under Farrah’s roof anymore. I’d been figuring I’d ask your uncle anyway.” He couldn’t quite meet my eyes, he looked faintly embarrassed. “Once you were a bit older. I didn’t want to pounce as soon as your mother had been dead a year. I wanted to give you time. But I’d never let him wed you, Amani, if you’d told me. This would just mean asking him for you a bit sooner.”

He’d been planning on asking to marry me? For how long? The notion had never crossed my mind. I’d figured he’d always understood that I was planning on leaving. Or maybe he’d just thought I’d never make it.

“Tamid.” I lowered my voice, unsure of what to say. I didn’t know how to explain what I wanted. Not when our ideas were so at odds.

Fazim appeared through the crowd. He wasn’t alone. Gold-and-white army uniforms trailed behind him, parting the crowd.

My stomach leapt into my mouth as I plastered myself into the shadows. Tamid glanced over his shoulder. He saw what I did. When he turned back he must’ve read my answer all over my face. I couldn’t stay. He couldn’t keep me safe. “Go.”

“Tamid . . .” I didn’t want to leave with him angry at me. But he wasn’t angry enough to want me dead.

“Go!”

For once I did as I was told.

The street was thick with the crowds. I dodged around Old Rafaat leaning heavily on his granddaughter’s arm and shoved past a stranger who was playing a sitar out of tune before colliding with the side of my uncle’s house. I was steps from the stables. If I could get to the Buraqi—

“There you are!” Aunt Farrah yanked me around to face her. For the first time the cold fury in her face didn’t reach me. She was going to scream at me for my smart mouth, for knocking over her daughter, for not helping with dinner for all I knew. It might’ve mattered this morning, but I was long past caring now.

“Let me go.” I tried to tug my arm free, but her grip tightened.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Away.” I stopped struggling, facing her head-on. “Out of this town and away from you. You don’t want me here. You don’t want your husband wanting me.” Her fingers dug in. “And I don’t want your husband or anyone else having me.” I darted a look over my shoulder, couldn’t see anyone through the crowd. But it was a damn small town. Fazim would find me. “Just let me go and I’ll leave.” I turned back to Aunt Farrah. The hatred that she usually wore had slipped. I was right and she knew it. In this we were allies. “Please.”

Her fingers loosened.

Too late. Uniform-clad arms clamped around me and I was lifted off my feet with an involuntary cry. I was half dragged back around the house into the street. The celebrations had quieted, revelry turning to panic as the army penned folks back against houses in a line. Soldiers marched down the street, lanterns held high, checking every man’s face.

“Search all the houses and see if he’s there.” I recognized the clipped, careful accent of young Commander Naguib. He walked through our town like he owned the whole damn place.

Jin was wanted for treason. As a mercenary, they claimed. They didn’t send so many men to bring in traitors for pay. So either they weren’t here for Jin or he was a lot more than a mercenary.

The soldier holding me dropped me in front of the young commander, who gave me a once-over before turning to Fazim over his shoulder. “This is her?”

“Yes. She was with the foreigner in Deadshot.” The swinging lamplight made Fazim ugly as he hovered over the commander’s shoulder. I’d been afraid before, but this was a new sort of terror. “She was working with him. She’s the Blue-Eyed Bandit.”

A soldier snorted from the edge of the lamplight. “From the pistol pit? This girl?”

“He’s an idiot.” I found my voice. I was trying to be brave. But it was Fazim’s word against mine. They were going to believe a man over a girl any day.

The commander grabbed my chin and held the lantern so close to my head, I figured he was going to burn me. “You have lovely eyes.” It was no use pretending anymore. I’d been betrayed by my own face. “Now, where is our foreign friend?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here answering stupid questions.” His hand connected with my cheek so hard, I was afraid that he’d snapped my neck, only I was too surprised to die. Pain echoed in my teeth and bones.

“Where is he?” The commander’s voice wormed its way through the ringing in my ears. I was only still standing because a soldier was holding me up. I struggled to find the ground again. The commander grabbed my chin. “Tell me.” There was a gun at my temple. “Or I will shoot you in the head.”

My jaw hurt, but I made it work. “Well, that wouldn’t be real clever, because then you’d never get to hear what I’ve got to say.” The click of a bullet slotting into the chamber of a gun was a noise I knew like my own voice. I’d just never heard it so close to my ear.

“That’s not going to work on her.” Fazim spoke up. “If you really want to frighten her, you need her cripple.”

Anger rushed in, pushing out my fear. I lunged at him so fast that the grip holding me slipped. I got my hands on his throat, but arms wrenched me off him before I could do much damage. Someone slapped me again. When my vision cleared, Tamid was kneeling on the sand in the circle of lamps. His bad leg was sprawled out crookedly, and a gun rested against the back of his neck.

I hated Fazim, but I hated myself more. Tamid had warned me I’d get in trouble. I just hadn’t figured on getting anyone in trouble with me.

“Now,” the commander said in his fine accent. “Would you care to tell us whether or not you were with our friend from the east in Deadshot?”

I swallowed angry words that rose up automatically. Mouthing off wasn’t worth Tamid’s life. “I wasn’t with him.” I spoke through clenched teeth. “We were both there.”

“And where is he now?”

“I don’t know.” I thought he would hit me again. But the commander just pursed his mouth like he was disappointed in a bad student. He moved around to Tamid. I was suddenly afraid again.

“What happened to your leg?”

“Leave him alone!”

Tamid and the commander both ignored me. “It was twisted when I was born,” Tamid answered cautiously. We had an audience of about two dozen soldiers and a few hundred Last County folks. All of them were watching us with a mix of horror and fascination.

“Well, then.” The commander circled behind Tamid. “It’s hardly much good to you, is it?”

The bullet went straight through his knee. I screamed so loud, I couldn’t even hear Tamid’s cry as he crumpled to the ground. A single shriek pierced through the sudden uproar. Tamid’s mother. Two soldiers were holding her back.

“What do you think, Bandit?” Commander Naguib cried to me over the noise from the crowd. “A man with one leg might as well have none for all the good he is.” He aimed his gun at Tamid’s good leg.

“No!” The cry ripped through me.

“Then tell me the truth. And tell me fast. Where is he?”

“I don’t know!”

Tamid’s mother screamed.

“No! No! I don’t! He was here. He came here. Then he left.”

“When?” The commander came at me full stride, the simmering rage that lived under the cool face rising up again.

“Dusk. A few hours ago.”

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know!” I cried out. The gun smashed across my head. Blood erupted across my vision. I saw a burst of red and light before it cleared and I could see the lanterns swinging above my head again.

“Where is he?” the commander asked.

“I don’t know,” I repeated, because the truth was all I had now, as weak as it was.

“I will shoot him again, and this time it might not be in the leg.”

“I’m not lying! He didn’t tell me. Why would he tell me?” I was shouting now.

“Which way did he go?”

“I don’t know!”

“Lying is a sin, you know.” The gun pressed against my cheek, hot metal in my face.

And then the world exploded into noise and light.

• • •

RINGING.

Everything was ringing.

My first thought was that someone had been shot.

Tamid?

I was facedown on the ground. I pushed myself to my elbows.

In the dark all I could see was fire where I knew a cliff of black brick was supposed to be.

The entire weapons factory was ablaze.

Sound rushed back in. Screaming came first. The folks of Dustwalk had flung themselves to the ground in prayer, or just covered their heads; some staggered to their feet, others just stared. Commander Naguib was already shouting instructions, Tamid and I forgotten. Soldiers were leaping onto their horses, riding full tilt toward the blaze.

Tamid.

He was crumpled on the sand, not moving, but as I called his name he looked up at me. At the same moment I heard his name again. His mother was cowering and weeping in the sand, trying to crawl toward him.

Then I heard the unmistakable scream of a Buraqi. The desert horse was barreling down the street toward us. On its back was Jin, riding straight toward me. Guns swiveled uncertainly in Jin’s direction. He fired a shot and a soldier went down.

I turned back to where Tamid was crumpled.

The Buraqi was almost on top of me.

I had seconds to decide. My legs were trapped, my gut tugging me recklessly toward Tamid. To near certain death. My heart tugging me to Jin and escape and the unknown.

Jin leaned over the horse, reaching down. A gunshot went off at my feet.

It wasn’t a decision. More than a want.

It was an instinct. A need. Staying alive.

Jin’s hand came into reach. I clasped it tight and swung my body as Jin pulled me up behind him. I saw Aunt Farrah’s ashen face. I saw Tamid crumpled in the sand. I saw Commander Naguib, reloading his weapon. Defenseless. Young.

It would be a clean shot. And Jin was armed. One shot and the commander would be dead. Jin knew it, too; I felt it in the tension of his shoulders. Instead he pulled the horse around, lowering his gun, and my hands twisted into Jin’s shirt a second before the Buraqi burst into the speed of a beast of wind and sand.