Sixteen

We made it to the city swiftly after buying another horse and traveling back on the direct route through the mountains. I didn't bother to cover my face given I was wearing an entirely new one. Noor's dupatta covered hers but no one would have recognized her anyway. We were strangers to this city, and that was how we wanted it.

The city rose up from the dunes like it was an extension of the earth, a natural fixture moored in the ground instead of a man-made walled city the color of sun-drenched sand stretching to the horizon.

Basral.

The city of djinn power and blood. The place where I would find my retribution.

I repeated the names that were my constant companion now.

Casildo. Darbaran. Vahid. Mazin.

They had betrayed me for gain, and they would receive much more than they ever wanted. Zoraat coursed through my veins and the same whispered word I'd heard on the wind met my ears again.

Revenge.

I tasted it on my tongue, remembering the dark figure I thought I'd seen in the cave and the two footsteps beside mine in the sand. Remembering my father's ghoulish face. It was unsettling that just touching the zoraat could have caused those illusions, because it reminded me that I truly didn't know how much power it was capable of.

Perhaps we had enough zoraat to level this entire city.

Perhaps I could scorch the earth under Mazin's feet and make him beg me to spare his life.

A dark feeling took hold, deeper than my rage had ever been, the djinn magic in my system feeling like it had come alive. For a moment my vision shadowed, and my palms burned as if they were coated in fire.

"What should we do first?" Noor's voice cut through the blaze that had swept over me.

The first step in the plan.

I could kill them all right now if I wanted, but that wasn't why we'd come back. We wanted something more than death, something darker than retribution.

Casildo had betrayed my father for his swords, using the love for his child against him. Would he do the same for what he values? Would he fight for what he loves, as my father did? Darbaran was the head of the palace guard, and when I'd known him I'd wanted to break his fingers off for his wandering hands and lecherous stares. Money and exploiting those weaker than him were his vices—and Noor and I planned to exploit that ourselves.

Emperor Vahid only ever chased after one thing—power. If we could chip away at that, burrow ourselves into the cracks of his empire, we could disintegrate the ground he stood on. Noor wanted that most of all.

And Mazin.

He betrayed me by using our relationship, by taking advantage of my love and trust and using that to make me a scapegoat.

Now I would do the same.

I would map out every step of my vengeance.

"First, we build our image," I answered her, thinking through my list of names.

We had to be seen by the right people in order to get close enough to the emperor and noticed by Mazin.

"We have enough gold to attract some attention. So, let's use it. Then we need an introduction. We need to be able to get close to Vahid and gain access to the palace."

The palace was where Mazin would be.

Noor flashed her teeth. "I've always wanted to go shopping to my heart's content."

We purchased a home at the edge of the city walls, one of the more lavish houses in the entire city. Noor picked it out, looking around with a pleased huff when she spied the garden, given her affinity for herbs and plants. I walked around the halls, checking for places intruders could break in, testing the doors for security. Being ostentatious was necessary to attract the notice of Casildo, Darbaran, and Vahid. But once Mazin was aware of us, I wasn't taking any precautions on what he would do. We had to be prepared against any threat.

After our house purchase, we went straight to the bazaar, buying enough silks, suits, and jewelry to look like queens. We chose every color of shalwar kameez, lehengas, and tunics with intricate beading, mirrors, and textile patterns. I made sure to pick a few key pieces of fabric and textiles from the north—large plump flowers embroidered in pink, geometric lines, block ink patterns on the edge of sleeves—everything I had seen my mother and grandmother wear while growing up. If I was playing the part of a northern woman, I wanted to do it justice. Every piece of adornment was chosen with a purpose, as if we were donning armor.

I pictured Baba forging his blades, carving his elaborate beasts on the hilts, adding each gem with precision, and realized that I was doing the same.

Arming myself with beauty, to distract from the true weapon that I was. And while they were busy admiring me, I'd slice their fingers off with my blade.

"Do you have a plan for getting invited to the emperor's court? Other than spending so much money they can't ignore us?" Noor lay on a pile of cushions eating slices of fresh mango as I perused the latest collection of daggers one of the city swordsmiths had brought me. Nothing compared to my father's blades, but I needed to be better armed than I was.

And if our plan with Casildo went accordingly, soon I would take back my father's swords anyway.

"That will come later." I had plans involving Vahid, but I needed to lay the groundwork. "For now, we need the attention of Casildo."

Noor nodded.

I spun the tip of a dagger on my pointer finger, the only physical part of me I still recognized.

First, I wanted my father's blades back.

"He betrayed my father, got him killed by the emperor's soldiers, and raided his smith. It's time we test this disguise out in the real world."

The air was thick in the bazaar as the heat sank down from the blazing sun and sat on the skin like a heavy net. I went in my finest shalwar kameez, the top a deep indigo and threaded with a bold textile pattern from the north, with trousers a matching shade of blue silk. My thick hair—now a wild mane of curls instead of my usual pin-straight locks—was twisted into an ornate braid piled on my head and laced with golden beads. My new eyes were darkly lined with kajal, and I stared through them with all the confidence I would have felt in my own skin. We wove through the market, searching for Casildo's merchant's stall.

It sat on the edge of the market, stocked with blades Casildo imported from all across the empire.

I approached the stall with a nonchalance I didn't feel. My skin flushed with rage, even though the small man selling the collection of daggers on the table was not Casildo. His muddy eyes narrowed on me, eyeing my finery and the servants at my side—one of them being Noor, posing as my personal maid.

"Good day to you, sahiba. Can I help you find something for your husband, perhaps?" Greed glinted in his eyes as he began pushing his most jeweled blades forward. My gaze swept over them—none of the knives were made by my father. I could that tell in an instant.

"I have no husband," I said as I picked up a particularly gaudy dagger, without the deadly edge to match its finery. "I am looking for a sword. I'm somewhat of a collector."

"Then you have come to the right place, sahiba. There are no finer swords than Casildo's."

I swept my gaze over the man's stall, dismissive. I picked up a katar, the handle set in silver, and slid my knuckles through the opening so that the blade rested above my fingers. Noor had wanted me to appear dainty and uncertain around the blades, but there was no way I could do that. Let him see that I knew exactly how to handle them.

"I am looking for something particular I saw once." I thought of the uniqueness of my father's knives, of every animal he had carved into the hilt, of the engravings he'd made on the blade. I tapped my lips with the point of the katar and made a humming sound under my breath.

"A halmasti head, carved with camel bone, set with emeralds and gold filigree."

The man stroked his chin, his eyes darting to the side. "Sahiba, I have seen something similar. But not here. My master, Casildo, has a larger collection of blades at his home that he sometimes shows private collectors. The largest you ever saw. But I warn you, the blades will be costly."

"Does it look to you that I cannot afford it?"

A faint smile touched his lips, his eyes lowering in deference. "No, sahiba, but I don't like to catch my customers unaware. I will speak to my master about what you seek. Where can I reach you?"

"I'm in the south of the city, a dwelling called Jasmine Koti, do you know it?"

"Ah, yes, sahiba, I know it. A fine home indeed. Beautiful gardens."

If possible, his eyes lit even brighter with hunger. He was counting on a big commission from Casildo out of this, and I would not disappoint. "I will send word to your servant in the morning about meeting to discuss Casildo's other swords. Expect to hear soon."

"I will."

That afternoon a nervous servant arrived on our doorstep to tell us that Casildo was interested in meeting with us.

"That was fast." Noor took the note from the sweaty young man and flung it on the table in the middle of the room. I sat on the large indigo divan, sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains on the surrounding windows. To anyone looking in, I would have resembled a pampered rich girl, eating handfuls of pistachios and sipping rose water chai.

Except for the daggers I was throwing across the room and embedding into the wooden wall opposite me.

"It says he wants to meet tomorrow to discuss the sword you were looking for."

"His merchant probably shouted to him about how rich we were. Especially with all the jewels in my hair." I gave a little laugh and paused in the act of throwing my next dagger.

I pressed the tip of the blade to my palm and let the edge prick my skin. I was so close to seeing Casildo. So close to meeting the eyes of the person who'd orchestrated my father's death. Anger blossomed in my chest as I looked over the note from him.

"Not to mention the diamonds gracing your fingers." Noor nod ded to my hands. "We looked like a walking treasure trove. Good thing you hired all those guards around the house, or we'd be getting robbed right now."

"Greed and cowardice is Casildo's language. He was always enamored with my father's status, with his expertise and blade collection. But he waited until he was on his knees before taking advantage of him. He needs to know exactly what we have to flaunt, and that he can get some of it."

Noor picked up a dried apricot from the plate in front of me and popped it in her mouth. "By cheating you?"

"Perhaps. If given the opportunity, certainly. But he might even do worse." I threw the knife at the wall, letting the blade fly. My anger released with it.

I needed a cool head for what would come next.

Noor smirked. "You think he's going to try and rob you with that army of guards you've got waiting outside? Casildo betrayed your father because it was easy, and he had power on his side. He's a coward. He's not going to do anything that could risk his life."

"That's why he's going to think it's simple. Until it's not. That's when we strike."

"You're so bloodthirsty."

"Have you met me?" I quirked a smile, then my gaze turned serious. "Wouldn't you be?" I stood up and wrenched my dagger out of the wall.

Noor looked out the window facing the palace. "He took your father from you. I would want revenge for the exact same reason. But just be careful you don't become what you most despise. That we both don't become what we most despise."

"And what is that?"

"Greedy. Power hungry."

I considered her words. The power flooding through me was intoxicating; I couldn't deny that. But there was no danger of me succumbing to it, not when I had bigger ambitions. "I won't forget what we are here for."

Her laugh echoed through the halls of the cavernous house. "Forget is something I know you don't do easily."