Traitor to the Throne (Rebel of the Sands, #2)(116)

I felt the rush of using my power through the pain. It would have to do. I released the sand and the pain receded.

‘We need to go.’

‘Hold on.’ Hala stopped me as I started to get dressed. ‘What do you want to do with her?’ She meant my aunt. ‘Do you want me to tear her mind apart?’ Like Hala had done to her mother who had sold her. Who had used her daughter so selfishly.

I wanted her to hurt.

Ahmed would tell me that an eye for an eye would make the whole world blind. Shazad would tell me that was why you had to stab people through both eyes the first time around.

‘Did it make you feel better?’ I asked. It wasn’t an accusation. It was a real question. I wanted to know. I wanted to know if hurting my aunt like she’d hurt me would take away this anger rotting in my chest. ‘When you tore your mother’s mind apart? Did it help?’

Hala turned away from my aunt first. ‘We need to go.’





Chapter 46

Moving through the streets of Izman after dark wasn’t exactly easy – not with the Abdals and not with my skin rebelling with pain in every step. Without Hala in my mind, the kingdom of cuts on my body screamed in pain.

But speed was essential.

We rounded a corner, and moonlight bounced off metal and clay. Hala grabbed my arm, shoving me between two houses, into the shadows. We didn’t dare move. The Abdal passed by the mouth of the alley, close enough that I could’ve reached out and touched it. And then the sound of steps again, closer, coming from the other end of the street, working their way towards us. Penning us in. Sam didn’t hesitate, grabbing my hand and Hala’s. ‘Hold your breath or get dead very fast.’

I just had time to suck in a lungful of air before he dragged us both backwards through the wall. We stumbled into a small kitchen. I could hear the rushing of my own heartbeat in time with the steps outside, slowing as they passed. We waited a solid few breaths until Sam dragged us back out.

We reached the intersection where we were due to meet, with seconds to spare.

A rope ladder dangled from the rooftop as promised. I started to climb as Hala and Sam slipped into a side alley. Jin reached a hand down for me, clasping my arm as he pulled me up the last few feet on top of the roof. A hiss of pain escaped through my teeth as his thumb hit one of my wounds.

‘Is there a reason you keep coming back injured when I leave you for five seconds, or is it—’ His voice carried too loud, and I clapped a hand over his mouth, shutting him up.

‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m always getting injured when you’re around, too.’ I was raw inside and out. I didn’t feel like explaining my encounter with my aunt just then. I pressed a finger to my lips. When he nodded, I slowly peeled my hand away.

We flattened ourselves on the edge of the roof. Jin handed me the rifle a second before the Abdal appeared around the corner.

Its steps echoed around the empty streets, accompanied by the rattle of the wheels of the prison wagon that followed behind and a dozen more boots, on human feet this time.

A word carved into metal, powering the Abdal like a heart, in the right heel. Somewhere no one would ever have the instinct to hit. We didn’t need instinct; we had insider information.

Another step.

Two more.

I took a deep breath.

I squinted against the dark, trying to track the glint of metal in the moonlight. Somewhere high above, a curtain twitched, then fell shut, casting the street back into shadows almost as quickly as it had illuminated it.

But it was enough.

I pulled the trigger.

It was a perfect shot. It clipped the edge of the bronze heel guard, bending it at an angle. I almost laughed. Thank God for soft metal.

The men surrounding the carriage were pulling out weapons already, looking for the threat. But that wasn’t my problem.

Jin’s gun went off next to me even as Shazad stepped through Delila’s veil of illusion, appearing like an avenging spirit below, blades drawn.

I took a second shot. It went through soft clay flesh. And a third. And I saw it. The shine of metal under the clay skin. Somewhere inside there was a word. Giving the thing life. A soldier turned a gun toward me and fell.

And for a moment it was like old times. Like the days before Iliaz. The three of us against the world. The simplicity of rebellion, where every little victory could win a war.

My next bullet hit hard.

When mortal things died, they fell. They fell like the soldiers littering the streets under our gunfire. But the Abdal didn’t. It stopped. Just stopped as abruptly as

I would have when the Sultan gave me an order.

And the streets were still again.

I clambered down after Jin.

The Abdal stood unnervingly frozen. I’d seen enough of Leyla’s little inventions close up to know this one was different. It was as much a creation of a Djinni as I was.

The lock at the back of the carriage splintered under another gunshot, taking my focus with it. I joined Shazad and Jin at the back of the wagon, as the door swung open. Rahim was bound and gagged, a sack pulled over his head. I held up a hand, stopping Jin and Shazad. Rahim had rescued me once; I owed him the same.

The wagon rocked gently under my weight as I entered.

I pulled the bag off Rahim’s head. He jerked, like he was ready to fight, arms bound and all. He stopped when he saw me, holding still long enough to let me pull the gag from his mouth. ‘What’s happening?’ he rasped.