Hero at the Fall (Rebel of the Sands #3)(96)

‘No—’ I started to argue, but Sam was one step ahead of me.

‘You have to go,’ Sam said urgently. He grabbed my arms in a gesture that seemed like something he’d read about in storybooks. ‘There’s no time to argue. One of us has to make it out of this alive,’ he declared dramatically. He really did sound ridiculous, even when he was about to throw himself at death.

‘Shazad …’ I heard myself say. Shazad had told us to bring each other back. Not for him to save me. For us to save each other.

Sam’s mouth pulled up a little on the side. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’ He forced a broad smile. ‘All the greatest love stories end like this.’

I could feel the last moments slipping through my fingers before death came for us. I couldn’t just leave him. But I couldn’t find the words either.

‘Sam.’ I flung my arms around him. Like we’d stood when he’d pulled me through the wall to the Sin Maker. Like we might be going through the wall together again. Even though this time he wasn’t coming with me. ‘I’m sorry.’ It was the only thing I could find to say as I embraced him.

I’m sorry that I drew you into this. I’m sorry I led you here. I’m sorry you’re here with me. I’m sorry that it ends here.

Sam tightened his arms around me. I felt the solidity of him that would be dust in a few moments. ‘I’m not,’ he said as he pulled away.

And then he was on his knees in front of me, hands locked together, his back to the wall for balance. I could hear the sound of the Abdals getting closer. If I left him …

But if I didn’t, everyone died. Everyone out on that battlefield. Jin and Ahmed and Rahim and Delila. Sam was laying down his life for us.

I steadied myself on his shoulders, putting my boot in his linked hands, and Sam lifted me. I only just had time to hold my breath before my head met the stone. It gave way as Sam pushed me up, and suddenly I was halfway through, shoulders and arms above the stone ceiling. I braced my arms, pushing, yanking the rest of my body through the floor even as Sam kept hold of me. And then I was on the other side, my legs pulling out of the tiles of the palace floor. I just had time to see the tips of Sam’s fingers disappear.





Chapter 40

The Once Nameless Boy

Once, in a kingdom far across the sea, there was a boy born with no name.

As a child at his mother’s knee, he heard many stories of men from the great land where he was born who made names for themselves, through prodigious acts of valour and heroism. And so, as he became a man, he began to search for a name of his own. Eventually his quest took him far from the shores where he was born, to a desert where others like him had come from nothing and found names.

It was there that he began to fight in the name of another man. A man who had many names. The Prodigal Prince. The Rebel Prince. The Resurrected Prince.

It was in the name of this man that the nameless boy fell.

Some might say that the boy’s quest had failed. For he would forever be nameless in his own land. A pale girl he had once loved would think of him sometimes, on a bright spring day in her cold stone castle. But she would never speak his name. A family in a small, dark cottage would mourn their lost son when the war ended and he did not come home. But none of them would ever know how his end came, and as years passed they would wonder out loud about his fate less and less until they stopped altogether.

And when they were gone, too, his name would never be spoken again in the land of his birth. No mothers would tell their sons and daughters his story as they held their children on their knees in front of the fireplace. No singers would compose odes to his deeds. And the queen of the kingdom across the sea would never know that a boy from her island met his end alone in the dark, fighting another ruler’s war.

But not so in the desert.

In the land where he fell, they would speak his name around campfires, along with the other heroes of their country. Children would be told tales of his feats of heroism and clap their hands when they heard of his many tricks to fool the Rebellion’s enemies. And they would go quiet when the story came to how he died. Some would even shed tears.

He would be remembered long after those who had known him joined him in death.

In the desert, the boy would never be nameless again.





Chapter 41

I was alone.

Sprawled across the fine marble floor of the palace, I pressed down on the tiles, like I might be able to tear them up and reach Sam. To drag him to safety with me. But it was too late. It was just me now, and the mosaic of Princess Hawa staring down at me from the wall.

The first daughter of my father. The first girl to fall in love. The first girl to die for it.

Sam’s words from below the mountain in Sazi crept back to me, when he first told me that all great love stories ended in death, and I felt a sob inch its way up my throat. I fought it down. There was no going back now. He had made his choice in those tunnels. I had, too. I’d see him in death soon.

My side ached with the strain of using my power as I dragged myself to my feet. I pressed my hand against Hawa’s, silently calling on my sister through a thousand generations to help me. The door yielded below my hand, admitting me to the vaults.

The first time I had come down here, it was too dark to see. Now the vaults blazed with light from the machine, so bright that I could barely see anything else.