Rebel of the Sands (Rebel of the Sands #1)(77)
Izz’s hair stuck up. “I know how I feel about it.”
“And I know how I feel about breaking both your noses.” Shazad shoved Izz with one hand without breaking stride. Hala trailed in her wake, golden skin smeared red with blood. I realized the fighting was done. And we were all still alive. I wanted to cry in relief. Shazad sheathed her scimitar before reaching and pulling me into a hug. I collapsed into her gratefully.
As we broke apart, I realized we had an audience. The people of Fahali were crowding around us, gathering as the dust settled. Only they weren’t looking at us. Every eye in the street was fixed on Ahmed.
He was standing just outside the city gates, with three Mirajin soldiers. Prisoners, I guessed, as they waited on their knees, heads bowed, for his verdict.
He really did carry himself like a prince. I saw it now. The smiling, friendly Ahmed who’d brushed off “your majesty” was gone. But he wasn’t some golden ruler ready to climb onto a throne either. He looked like a legendary hero fresh from battle. Like a man who could lead this country.
“What happened?” I asked, leaning on Shazad. Everything was a blur after Naguib’s death.
“The Gallan soldiers who survived retreated,” Shazad answered in a low voice as we looked on. “I saw them riding north. When they report back to their king that the Sultan tried to kill them, he won’t have an alliance on his hands anymore. What was left of Naguib’s army surrendered to us after he died. Everyone saw him burn.”
“And Noorsham? I lost track of him in the fighting . . .”
“Then he’s gone.” Shazad’s jaw tightened.
He’d gotten away. I tried to hide the relief on my face. Noorsham had killed Bahi. The boy who drunkenly serenaded her below a window and joined a rebellion for her. But he was still my brother. My brother, who had the power to destroy this whole desert if he chose to, was out there somewhere. And he knew my true name.
“I am not going to kill you.” Ahmed was speaking to the Mirajin soldiers who had surrendered, his voice loud enough for those around him to hear. “Execution without trial is what the Gallan have done here for decades. And their influence on our desert will be ending soon.” One of the three Mirajin soldiers glanced up, like he was just daring to hope he might get out of here with his life. “So I will release you on the condition that you carry a message to my father.”
A rustle went through the crowd at “my father.” If Ahmed noticed, he didn’t let it show. “You will tell him Fahali is whole and it is under my protection. That I am laying claim to every city west of the middle mountains. My father cannot hold this whole country against its will without the Gallan alliance. And if he will not listen to the people’s will, he will listen to mine. One way or another, I will take the throne of this nation one day. But until then, these are my people.”
Everyone’s attention was on Ahmed now as his eyes traveled between the three soldiers. They might flee Miraji before going back to the Sultan with Ahmed’s words. But stories had a way of traveling in the desert. The Sultan would hear that the Rebel Prince had stood in the ashes of the battle of Fahali and laid claim to half his kingdom. “And if he comes after my people, I will bring war to his doorstep.”
“A new dawn!” The cry burst out of the crowd before Ahmed had even fully finished speaking.
“A new desert!” A dozen voices called back, ragged and out of pace.
“A new dawn! A new desert!” The cry was taken up around Fahali, thousands of Mirajin voices together as one. Chanting for their prince, their hero, for all of us.
The sun was setting as we made our way out of the city and back into the Dev’s Valley. When the story of this day reached the Sultan, no one would tell him we were a small rabble of tired and sorry-looking rebels. That we didn’t look fit to fight the war that was coming. That half of us weren’t sure if we could. He would only know that we had won and were still alive.
And tomorrow the sun would rise on the first day of a new desert.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This is a book about a girl who went from going it alone to becoming part of something bigger than herself. I’m coming to realize that also describes the journey of having your first book published.
The very first person on this book’s journey was my agent, Molly Ker Hawn. I don’t think I’d ever heard Amani’s name out loud until she said it the first time we met, and I will always remember that as the moment this book found someone else who knew it and believed in it. Since then, she has taken this book further than I ever imagined, and I am so grateful to her and the rest of the amazing Bent Agency team for continuing to support and guide me at every step.
I am ridiculously lucky that this book found its way to my editors, Kendra Levin and Alice Swan, who were so enthusiastic about this story and so smart in guiding it where it needed to go. So thank you for everything from taking a chance on me, to edit letters with Star Wars and Chekov references and a whole section entitled “sexytimes,” to six-hour phone calls. But more than anything, thank you for being so endlessly patient with a debut author trying to figure it all out. I am very glad that this book found its home with Viking and Faber, and I’m completely indebted to the amazing teams both in the U.S. and the U.K. for all their work. A book goes through more people’s hands than I ever knew, and probably even know now, and I am grateful to every single one of them.