“Wish for the city,” I say urgently, “and I will deliver it to you! Caspida, you must see that this is the only way!”
“I can’t!” she shouts, her composure cracking as she meets my eyes. “Don’t you understand? If I use jinn magic to fight Sulifer, then I’m no better than he is! Then I’m no queen at all!”
“But we have no army,” says Nessa gently.
“Your Highness,” says Aladdin suddenly, “you don’t need an army.”
She gives him a questioning look, and he turns and waves a hand at the city spread below.
“You have the people. They’ve been waiting for months for the Phoenix to give the signal. They will follow you anywhere!”
Caspida’s eyes brighten a little, but then she shakes her head. “I can’t ask them to fight my battle for me, not against armed and trained men.”
“This isn’t just your battle,” Aladdin replies. “This has been our fight for years. It’s our families Sulifer has been tearing apart, our lives he has crushed. We’ve only been waiting for the right person to lead us, and here you are. They wear your colors, paint your sigil on the walls. Maybe you didn’t set out to create a revolution, but the revolution has been waiting for years for the right spark. Let us fight, and we will all take back our city together.”
Caspida looks around at her girls, and they all nod. To Aladdin, she opens a hand in assent. “Go, then. May Imohel grant you speed.”
His eyes burn with purpose, and he begins slipping away, squeezing my hand before letting go.
“I’ll bring help,” he says. “Hold them off as long as you can.”
And then he’s gone, dashing down the stair and dodging the few arrows fired after him. I stare in disbelief, unable to bear seeing him disappear after only just getting him back. But Caspida still holds the lamp, and I cannot follow.
“I’m out,” says Raz, throwing down her bow and dropping her empty quiver. “They’re coming.”
“Watchmaidens,” says the princess, looking at each of her girls in turn, her gaze finally settling on me. “Are you with me?”
Khavar, her snake coiled tightly on her forearm, draws a short dagger and licks the blade, her eyes glinting with a feral light. “In victory or death, I will be at your side, sister.”
“And I,” the others echo.
“And I,” I murmur, and they glance at me, surprised. I lock gazes with Caspida. “If you won’t wish for the city, then let me fight with you.” Slowly, my silk robes harden into shining battle armor, and twin swords appear behind my shoulders.
Caspida secures the lamp on her belt and nods. She grasps my hand, her pulse pounding through me like a battle drum. “In victory or death, jinni.”
With that, she stands, and we rise behind her.
There are about twenty soldiers marching toward us, all lancers. They are too near us now for the archers to continue firing without hitting their own men.
Caspida leaps onto the low wall and cries out, “Men of Parthenia! I am your true queen! Stand down, or be found guilty of treason!”
The men exchange glances but don’t stop advancing.
With a heavy sigh, the princess twirls her knives, then nods to us. We charge from behind the wall, the Watchmaidens calling out in ululating tones like the wild mountain warriors of old.
Ensi takes the lead, laughing madly, and the Watchmaidens draw their veils over their faces as she slings the first handful of blue powder. It hits three soldiers, blinding them, and they scream and drop their weapons to claw at their eyes. Ensi launches herself off the ground, flipping over their fallen forms to sling more powder at the next row of men.
Then the rest of us clash with the soldiers, steel ringing against steel. I stand back-to-back with Nessa, my ears roaring with the sound of battle. We fall into a rhythm, parrying, slashing, dodging lances. I keep glancing at the steps, hoping to see Aladdin leading in reinforcements, until the soldiers close in on us and I’m forced to focus on fighting.
The Watchmaidens are cunning, and they draw the soldiers apart. Any one of the girls is the match of two soldiers, but we are outnumbered nearly four to one, and more soldiers will doubtless arrive any moment once Sulifer learns we are here.
A man swipes at my legs with his spear, trying to trip me, and I leap over it and spin, my sword catching his arm and forcing him to drop the weapon. He lands on his knees, white with pain, and I knock him unconscious with the hilt of my sword. With a moment to breathe, I look around and see we are being pressed back, their numbers proving too strong. More soldiers come running in from our left, and I hear Sulifer shouting above them:
“Kill the traitor queen! Bring me the lamp!”
I drop my hands and shut my eyes, letting myself dissolve into the wind, scarlet smoke. I swell and expand, filling the wide avenue and obscuring the soldiers’ vision. The new arrivals skid to a halt, confused and disoriented, slashing blindly in the fog.
“Fall back!” Caspida cries. “To me!”
The Watchmaidens follow the sound of her voice, and I cover them as they retreat behind the wall. While the girls catch their breath, the soldiers advance from the palace, their ranks swelling with black-clad Eristrati. They press on slowly, blinded by my smoke but driven onward by Sulifer’s commands. I withdraw to join the princess, shifting back into my human form.
“They are nearly upon us,” I say. “Thirty, forty, perhaps fifty of them, and more coming. We won’t last five minutes.”
Above us, the sky is growing darker despite the sun rising. Black clouds gather near the summit of Mount Tissia, and I know that Zhian has reached Nardukha, and that our time grows thin. I watch the mountain anxiously, knowing the real battle waits at its peak.
“We have no choice,” murmurs the princess, drawing me back to the battle at hand. “Sisters, I am sorry I have led you to this.”
“We would have it no other way,” says Nessa, and the others nod and grasp hands.
“If we’re to die,” says Raz, “let us die fighting.”
At that moment, a shout turns our heads.
“For the Phoenix Queen!” the cry goes up. “For the people!”
Aladdin appears, running down the street, carrying a sword he got from who knows where. Behind him, a horde of people are racing, gripping knives and scythes, staves and camel whips. Butchers, carpet sellers, fishmongers, housewives, Parthenians of every age, size, and trade, men and women both, raise up a mighty shout.
“For the Phoenix Queen!”
“For the people!”
And even a few scattered cries of “For the Tailor’s Son!”