Hero at the Fall (Rebel of the Sands #3)(98)

He hadn’t lied to me. It would’ve saved me. It would’ve taken Fereshteh’s energy away safely – as well as snuffed out the fire of every other Djinni here. As it had the Abdals. As it would have him, if he’d chosen to end his own immortal life.

This had been his intention from the beginning.

He had played a long game with me. He had given me a way to save Ahmed, but he knew I would never kill a prince with the knife. He had given me a way to save Bilal, but he knew I would be too late to use the kiss, the stage already set for him to kill all his men. And only then did he give me the ring to save myself. He had made me desperate enough, with one promised salvation after another, to accept this last gift without question. Too close to the battle to wonder for very long about his generosity. To realise that he was sending me in against his old enemies, the Djinn who had imprisoned him.

‘She will need to be punished,’ the one with molten-gold eyes said.

‘I didn’t know.’ I was breathing hard, and everything hurt. Slowly I tried to drag myself to my feet.

‘But you knew that you should not release the one your kind call the Sin Maker,’ another one said, turning violent blue eyes on me, ones that reminded me of the colour of Izz’s wings in the sun. ‘And so you allowed him to trick you.’

‘We should punish Zaahir,’ another one disagreed. This one had dark purple hair that looked almost black. ‘Bahadur’s daughter does not need to die.’

My father stayed silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

I had managed to get myself to standing now, as they all looked on, sizing me up with their unnatural gazes. ‘A balance, then,’ a red-eyed one said. ‘She should not die for Zaahir’s crimes. But someone should.’

There was a nod from around the assembled Djinn. And when the red-eyed Djinni looked at Bahadur, he, too, inclined his head just ever so slightly.



‘We are nothing if not just,’ another Djinni with eyes as unnaturally white as a flame spoke. ‘You chose to release Zaahir from his prison. You can make this choice, too.’

‘A choice?’ I wasn’t sure if it was a question or if I was just repeating the word. But it came out a low, angry, breathless hiss. He might burn with an infinite number of the small sparks that burned in me, but just then I’d swear there was enough fire in me to set the both of us alight.

The red-eyed Djinni didn’t wave a hand or say words like the market performers did before revealing the grand ending to their great trick. But I felt it all the same, the shift in the air the moment before they appeared across from me.

Side by side, staggering, fresh from the battlefield. Two brothers. Two princes.

Ahmed and Jin.

‘A choice of which one will die.’





Chapter 42

This would be a whole lot easier if I were still the same selfish girl you met in Dustwalk.

I’d said that to Jin about another choice, on another day. Or maybe it was really about the same choice. Because I’d made this choice so many times before without knowing it. A hundred small choices on the road that had led me to this one, this final choice. Between what I wanted and what I ought to do. Between myself and my country.

When I’d chosen not to flee Fahali, to save my own skin. When I’d chosen not to let Jin die in the desert after the Nightmare bite. When I’d chosen to face down Noorsham. When I’d chosen to let Shira die. And to let Hala die. And let Sam die. And when I’d chosen to free Zaahir.



It was a choice between what I wanted to do and what I needed to do.

‘Amani.’ Ahmed spoke, glancing around the vaults, confused. ‘What’s happening?’ But Jin never took his eyes off me.

‘It is your choice, daughter of Bahadur,’ one of the Djinn said, ‘which one dies today. Or don’t choose and they both die.’

A faraway part of me knew I ought to beg and plead, to rail against fate and the whole world for bringing me here. Against the Djinn, who made humanity and then played with us like this, with their deals and their tricks that they called justice. Who were taking more from me than I ever had from them.

But I didn’t. I didn’t rage or cry as I watched Ahmed’s mouth forming words I couldn’t hear. As I saw Jin standing perfectly, impossibly still, eyes closed as the understanding of what was happening, and the pain of it, struck him. I was standing in the same stone vaults, but I was far away.

Suddenly I was standing in a crowded barn on the other side of the desert all over again. One bullet left. Two bottles. Both – I needed both of them alive. But I couldn’t cheat my way out of this one.

It was an easy choice, really. Even if it was the hardest choice I’d ever have to make. Because I wasn’t that selfish girl any more.

Ahmed was shouting something, I realised. I forced myself to focus on him, to hear him from somewhere far beyond the roaring in my mind. He was telling me to take Jin and get out.

To let him die.

Jin wasn’t saying anything. He knew me. I didn’t take my eyes off Jin as I spoke. And though my voice was barely more than a whisper, I heard it echo around the vaults. ‘Let Ahmed go,’ I said.

Jin let out the breath he’d been holding. Like it was a relief.

‘No!’ Ahmed’s voice ripped from his throat. ‘Amani.’ He was on me, his hands tight around my arms. ‘Don’t do this. It’s not worth it, there are other ways—’