Chapter 14

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

After Stella had left, Ezra spent the rest of the afternoon pleasantly buzzed while she worked her way through Judah’s papers. She was contemplating a break when her new journal rustled its pages.

"Okay, that’s not weird at all," she murmured and opened it up. Fresh red script streaked across the page: I’m in a meeting and very bored. Tell me how great you think I am.

Who is this? Ezra wrote back, trying not to giggle. Seriously, the male djinn didn’t lack for self-confidence.

Rude girl. I thought we were friends.

Your ego is big enough without me stroking it, Ezra replied honestly.

Would you like a list of other things you could stroke instead?

Ezra let out a burst of laughter. Zahir must’ve been bored to want to flirt with her. She tapped the pen on the desk before throwing caution to the wind.

I already have other things to stroke and can do it quite well on my own. She knew the conversation would go further into dangerous territory if she didn’t change the subject. Aren’t you meant to be paying attention in council meetings?

I’m sure I’m meant to do a lot of things. Nico is talking about the pirate’s problem again, and it’s hard to concentrate when a grown man is complaining this much.

Nicolo D’Argento?! I wouldn’t be able to concentrate either. That man is fine.

I suppose he is if you’re into heroic and dashing.

Isn’t everyone? Is he still single? Because I could use a date. Teasing Zahir was probably the most dangerous thing Ezra could do, but she couldn’t help herself.

What are you working on?Zahir wrote back, clearly not biting the bait.

Ezra looked at the mess of sketches and notes before her. Honestly? No idea. My father’s stuff. He was never this chaotic. I shouldn’t have left him alone. Ezra wanted to scratch out the words as soon as she wrote them, but it was too late.

He was your parent, not the other way around. He made his choices, sparrow, Zahir replied.

Ezra sighed loudly to try to alleviate some of the pressure in her chest. He was right, but also wrong. Judah had become mentally and emotionally unmoored since Lucia’s death. Ezra felt responsible for him because if she didn’t look after him and keep him grounded, he wouldn’t do it for himself.

I told myself the same thing when I left Venice. I knew better and went anyway. Now, he’s dead, I’m enslaved, and if I don’t figure out a way to trick the Cabal, we are all fucked, she scrawled back messily.

Your slavery is temporary, sparrow. I won’t let them keep you. We have a deal, and I’m disinclined to share.

Ezra snorted. "That’s not what I’ve heard, great king." She took a deep breath and wrote: Go back to your meeting. I have work to do.

She shut the book and tossed it to the other side of the study so she wouldn’t be tempted to write to him again. It was a bad idea to get familiar in any way with Zahir. It would end badly, like every other relationship she had.

"You don’t have a relationship. You have a bargain," she told herself angrily. She watched the crystal that her father had hidden again, trying to make notes of everything he said and showed. She paused on the image of the strange sigil.

"Now, you are a much better diversion," she said, and taking a fresh piece of paper from a stack, she began to draw. It wasn’t until she finished the last curving line of it that she understood what she had drawn.

Sick, clawing dread scratched at her insides. "What did you do, Papa?" she whispered before resting her head on the desk and bursting into tears.

* * *

Ezra staredup at the twinkling stars above her and had another mouthful from the wine bottle in her hand. She didn’t know what time it was and didn’t care. She was standing in her mother’s small rooftop garden. Judah might have been terrible about looking after himself, but Lucia’s garden was still pristine. He maintained it to honor her memory and feel close to her.

Ezra walked to the edge of the rooftop to look down at the square below. Her mind still felt sticky and gross from the magic of her father’s sigil. Like all the magic she absorbed, it wasn’t going anywhere. She would have to feel it for the rest of her life, unable to scratch it out even if she wanted to.

Ezra stared down at the people in the square below, going to the restaurant and walking arm in arm together. She swayed forward, and a hand grabbed out to stop her.

"Get back from that edge before you fly off it, sparrow," Zahir said, his grip on her unbreakable.

Ezra turned wonkily. "I wasn’t going to jump."

"I’m more concerned with you toppling off accidentally in your current state." Zahir pulled her gently away from the edge and back amongst the potted lemon and orange trees.

Ezra’s drunken daze cleared a little. "What… What are you doing here?"

"I was concerned when you didn’t write back to me," he replied. He looked about before snapping his fingers. Carpets and cushions rolled out in a space amongst the greenery. "Sit down before you fall, sparrow."

Ezra flopped backward on the mound of cushions. "Ohhh, softy soft." She looked around at the plants surrounding them. She pouted. "I loved Mamma’s sunflowers. They are my favorite, and there’re none."

Zahir stared down at her and folded his arms. He was wearing loose silk black pants and a dark green shirt that showed off his bronze arms and a delicious V of skin on his chest. Ezra’s scattered thoughts went hazy. Yum.

"We can get you sunflowers later, sparrow. What happened? Why are you so drunk?" he asked, making her focus.

"Maybe I wanted to be. The party king can’t judge me for drinking too much wine," she grumbled and pulled a cushion over her face. She didn’t want to look at his handsome, glowering mug. Or do something dumb like tell him just how much she wanted to lick his face.

Zahir lay down on his side beside her and pulled the cushion away. "Talk to me, Ezra," he said softly. He never called her by her real name, and it made her feel all squishy in her guts.

She turned her head so she could look into his beautiful eyes. He really was unnaturally stunning. She wanted to suck on the emerald studs glinting in his ears.

"If you promise not to kill me, I’ll tell you," she whispered. She thought of the magic, and her eyes welled with tears against her will.

Zahir brushed a thumb over her cheek, wiping one away. "I already promised I wouldn’t kill you. You know I won’t. I can’t. It’s a part of the bargain."

Ezra stared up at the stars again so she wouldn’t cry harder. She cleared her throat. "I went through the recording my father left for me. On it was…this glowing sigil. I thought it might be some special present just for me. A message that only I could read."

"And what was it, really?" Zahir’s hand lifted to stroke her hair. It was a comforting gesture that made her want to cry more.

"It was the sigil to not only entrap a djinn, but to enslave them. It wasn’t bound to any magic infused clay. They could put it on a pendent or a ring, anything they wanted." Ezra pressed her fists into her temples. "It’s so awful, Zahir, and I don’t know if he gave it to the Cabal. Not only that, but it’s now also carved on the inside of my skull. I can’t get it out. It will be there forever."

Tears slipped down her cheeks. The pain of the magic and the knowledge that Judah had actually created something so evil… It was too much.

"Don’t cry, habibi. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault," Zahir said and put an arm around her, pulling her close.

"I’m so mad at him. How could he do such a thing?" Ezra was sobering up, and it was making her feel everything.

"You know how this Cabal operates. You don’t know what they held over your father to force him to create such a thing. I don’t blame you. I don’t even blame him."

"Why not?"

"Because if I was forced to guess, I’d say they threatened your safety to get him to co-operate. I can’t blame a father for trying to protect his daughter."

Ezra leaned back a little. "Even if it’s going to hurt your people?"

"I have to think logically about this, not emotionally," Zahir said, his eyes going distant. "If the Cabal already had access to this sigil, why haven’t they made a move to entrap any djinn? What’s holding them back?"

Ezra scrubbed at the tears on her face. "I don’t know. Perhaps because Judah tricked them about the golems, they are hesitant to entrap a djinn with a faulty sigil?"

"It’s a good theory. I suppose we will just have to wait to find out," Zahir grinned, and Ezra’s brain stopped working. "You would rescue me if I got trapped in a jar, wouldn’t you?"

"All depends. How many wishes will you grant me?" Ezra asked. Zahir poked her, and she squirmed.

"Rude girl," he chided.

Ezra sat up and pushed her wild curls from her face. "If I’m so rude, what are you doing here?"

"Maybe I enjoy your rudeness. Everyone else is too scared to talk back to me or argue with me," Zahir said, resting on his elbows.

Ezra frowned. "That sounds kind of…"

"Boring? Yes, it is."

"No, I was going to say lonely," she replied.

Zahir’s smile slipped a little. "Yes, I suppose it can be. I do love an argument too. You don’t seem to be afraid of me at all, and maybe I find that refreshing."

"I’m afraid. I just don’t show it. Your ego is big enough," Ezra replied.

"It’s not the only thing," he teased. Ezra made the mistake of letting her eyes wander over his long body. He caught her watching, and his grin returned. Shit.

"Thanks for checking in on me. I’m sure you’re busy doing king stuff," Ezra said, fidgeting slightly. If he kept looking at her with that smile, she was going to do something stupid.

"My night is free, and I’m enjoying your company. Unless… You want me to leave?" Zahir asked and tucked a hand behind his head. Ezra’s mouth watered.

"No?" Ezra said when she really should have said the opposite. She liked his company too and couldn’t deny it anymore. She lay back down on her side to face him. "Tell me about your day. I need something to keep my mind away from wanting to summon my father’s shade so I can yell at it."

Zahir lifted a brow. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah, I really do," Ezra said and settled in.