“That’s good.” Ali retrieved his papers, straightening the stacks on his desk. “Let me know if you’d like me to check the numbers you agreed on. I know mathematics isn’t your—” He stopped, surprised by the kiss Muntadhir suddenly planted on his forehead. “What?”
Muntadhir only shook his head, exasperated affection in his face. “Oh, akhi . . . you’re going to get eaten alive here.”
9
Nahri
Cold. That was her first thought upon waking. Nahri shivered violently and curled into a ball, pulling her blanket over her head and tucking her frozen hands under her chin. Could it be morning already? Her face felt damp, and the tip of her nose was completely numb.
What she saw when she opened her eyes was so strange, she immediately sat up.
Snow.
It had to be; it matched Dara’s description perfectly. The ground was covered by a thin blanket of white with only a few dark patches of soil visible. The very air seemed more still than usual, frozen into silence by the snow’s arrival.
Dara was still gone, as were the horses. Nahri wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and fed the dying fire the driest branch she could find, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her. Maybe he’d just taken the horses to graze.
Or maybe he really did leave. She forced down a few bites of cold stew and then started packing up her meager supplies. There was something about the silence and lonely beauty of the fresh snowfall that made the solitude more intense.
The stale bread and spicy stew left her mouth dry. Nahri searched their small campsite, but the waterskin was nowhere to be seen. Now she did start to panic. Would Dara really leave her with no water?
That bastard. That smug, self-righteous bastard. She tried to melt some snow in her hands but only got a mouthful of mud. She spat, growing annoyed, and then pulled on her boots. Dara be damned. She’d noticed a stream in the sparse woods behind their camp. If he wasn’t back by the time she returned, well . . . she’d have to start making other plans.
She stomped toward the forest. If I die out here, I hope I come back as a ghoul. I will haunt that arrogant, wine-soaked daeva until the Day of Judgment.
As she walked deeper into the forest, the sounds of warbling birds faded. It was dark; the tall, ancient trees blocked what little light penetrated the cloudy morning sky. Unbending pine needles held up tiny cups of crisp snow in the air all around her.
A thin layer of ice covered the rushing stream. She broke it easily with a rock and knelt to drink. The water was so cold it made her teeth ache, but she forced a few mouthfuls down and splashed some on her face, her entire body trembling. She longed for Cairo, its heat and crowds the perfect remedy to this cold, lonely place.
A flash drew her attention back to the stream, and she glanced down to see a bright fish dash behind a submerged rock. It briefly reappeared to fight the swift current, its scales sparkling in the dim light.
Nahri pressed her palms against the muddy bank and leaned closer. The fish was a striking silver color with brilliant blue and green bands crossing its body. While it was only about the length of her hand, it looked plump, and she suddenly wondered how it would taste seared over her weak campfire.
The fish must have guessed her intent. Just as she was considering the best way to catch it, it vanished behind the rocks again, and a breeze blew straight through her thin headscarf. She shivered and stood; the fish wasn’t worth staying here any longer.
She returned to the forest’s edge and then stopped.
Dara was back.
She doubted he saw her. He stood between the horses with his back to the trees, and as Nahri watched, he pressed his brow against one’s fuzzy cheek, giving its nose an affectionate scratch.
She wasn’t moved by the gesture. Dara probably thought even animals were superior to shafit like her.
But there was visible relief in his face when she entered their campsite. “Where were you?” he demanded. “I was worried that something ate you.”
Nahri pushed past him toward her horse. “Sorry to disappoint.” She grabbed the edge of her saddle and shoved one foot into the stirrup.
“Let me help—”
“Don’t touch me.” Dara jerked away, and Nahri heaved herself awkwardly into the saddle.
“Listen . . . ,” he started again, sounding admonished. “About last night. I was drunk. It’s been a long time since I’ve had company.” He chewed his lip. “I suppose I forgot my manners.”
She whirled on him. “Your manners? You go into a wild rant about the djinn—you know, the ones who stopped the indiscriminate butchery of shafit like me, insult me when I show some relief at the news of their victory, and then announce you’re planning to leave me at the gates of that damn city anyway? And you’re blaming it all on wine and your lack of manners?” Nahri scoffed. “By the Most High, you’re so arrogant you can’t even apologize properly.”
“Fine. I’m sorry,” he said, exaggerating the words. “Is that what you wish to hear? You are the first shafit I’ve ever spent time with. I didn’t realize . . .” He cleared his throat, playing nervously with the reins. “Nahri, you have to understand that when I was growing up, we were taught that the Creator himself would punish us if our race continued breaking Suleiman’s laws. That another human would rise to strip away our powers and upend our lives if we didn’t bring the other tribes into line. Our leaders said the shafit were soulless, anything out of their mouths a deception.” He shook his head. “I never questioned it. No one did.” He hesitated, his eyes bright with regret. “When I think of some of the things I’ve done . . .”
“I think I’ve heard enough.” She jerked the reins out of his hands. “Let’s just go. The sooner we get to Daevabad, the sooner we’re done with each other.”
She kicked her horse a bit harder than usual, and it gave an annoyed snort before rushing into a trot. Nahri clutched the reins and squeezed her legs, praying her rash move wouldn’t land her on the ground. She was a terrible rider, while Dara seemed to have been born in the saddle.
She tried to relax, knowing from experience that the most comfortable way to ride was to let her body follow the animal’s motions, leaving her hips loose to sway instead of bouncing all over the place. Behind her, she heard Dara’s horse pounding the frozen ground.
He quickly caught up. “Oh, don’t run off like that. I said I was sorry. Besides . . .” She heard his voice catch, and when he spoke again, she could barely hear him. “I will take you to Daevabad.”
“Yes, I know. To the gates. We’ve been over this.”
Dara shook his head. “No. I will take you into Daevabad. I will escort you to the king myself.”
Nahri immediately pulled on her reins to slow her horse. “Is this a trick?”
“No. I swear on my parents’ ashes. I will take you to the king.”
Macabre oath aside, she found it hard to trust his rather abrupt change of heart. “Will I not embarrass the legacy of your precious Nahids?”
He dropped his gaze to study his reins, looking ashamed. “It matters not. In truth, I cannot predict how the djinn will react and . . .” A blush stole into his cheeks. “I could not bear it if something happened to you. I would never forgive myself.”