Traitor to the Throne (Rebel of the Sands, #2)(12)

‘The Rebel Prince will lose this war.’ One of the Sultan’s soldiers stepped forward. ‘Malik is a wise man to see it.’ The words sounded forced and false, like it pained him to pander to Malik. ‘The Sultan has agreed to give Saramotai to Lord Malik when he reclaims this half of the desert. In exchange for the Demdji girl.’ The Sultan might want another Demdji to replace Noorsham, but I wouldn’t stake a single louzi that he was willing to give up part of the desert for her. Malik was just stupid enough to think that the Sultan would keep his promise.

‘You’re outnumbered.’ That had never mattered much to me before. ‘Drop the gun, Bandit.’ Malik sneered.

‘There’s only one man who gets to call me that,’ I said. ‘And you’re not near as good-looking as him.’

Malik’s temper snapped faster than I expected. The gun that had stayed so arrogantly by his side was out and in his hand in the space of a breath, pressing to my forehead in the next. Behind me I felt Imin shift forward, like he might try to do something. I held up a hand, palm flat, hoping he would take the hint and not get us both killed. From the corner of my eye I saw him go still. The women from the prison were watching the scene unfold with huge terrified eyes. One of them had started crying silently.

It would’ve been nice if the bite of an iron barrel next to my skin was unfamiliar. But this was far from the first time I’d been threatened like this. ‘You’ve got a smart mouth on you, anyone ever tell you that?’ That wasn’t a first, either. But telling him that didn’t seem all that smart.

‘Malik.’ The soldier who’d spoken stepped forward, looking like his patience was wearing thin. ‘The Sultan will want her alive.’

‘The Sultan is not my master.’ Malik’s face had turned savage. He pushed the gun harder against my skull. I could feel the barrel of the pistol pressing between my eyes. My heart quickened instinctively, but I fought down that fear. I wasn’t going to die today.

‘You just cost me twenty fouza,’ I sighed. ‘I made a bet I could make it out of this city without anybody threatening to kill me, and thanks to you, I’ve just lost.’

Malik wasn’t smart enough to be worried that someone with a pistol between her eyes was talking back instead of crying and cowering. ‘Well’ – he pulled back the hammer on the pistol – ‘lucky for you, you’re not going to be alive long enough to pay up.’

‘Malik!’ The soldier stepped forward again, his irritation falling away now. Seemed they had only just figured out they were dealing with an unstable man. By some unseen signal from their captain the weapons were shifting, away from the women behind me, towards Malik.

‘Any last words, Bandit? Maybe you’d like to beg for your life?’

‘Or …’ A voice seemed to float out of midair by Malik’s ear. ‘Maybe you would?’

Malik tensed visibly, in that way men did when they were in danger. It was a stance I’d become intimately familiar with in the past half a year. A thin bead of blood ran down his throat, even though it seemed like there was nothing around him but air.

The tension in my shoulders finally eased. The trouble with having invisible backup was that you never knew exactly where she was.

The air shimmered as the illusion cast by Delila dropped, leaving Shazad standing where there’d been nothing a moment before. Her dark hair was tightly braided to her head like a crown, a white sheema hung loose around her neck, and her simple desert clothes looked expensive. She was everything that Malik hated and she had him helpless. She looked dangerous, and not just because one of her blades was pressed to Malik’s throat, but because she looked like her deepest wish was to get to use it.

Finally, and far too late, fear dawned slowly across his face.

‘If I were you,’ I said, ‘now’d be the time I’d drop that gun and start reaching for the sky.’





Chapter 6

I was so close to Malik, I could see his face vacillating between despair and desparate action. He chose the second one. But I was faster than his stupid brain could work. I dropped to my knees a second before the gun went off, the bullet burying itself harmlessly in the wall behind me. Malik hit the ground next to me a second later, a new red necklace from Shazad’s sword gracing his throat.

But we weren’t done yet.

‘That took you long enough,’ I said to Shazad, rising to my feet as I whipped my hands up. On the other side of the walls of Saramotai, the desert surged in answer. After using nothing but a handful of sand down in the prison, the power of having the whole desert at my fingertips was almost intoxicating.

‘I see you managed not to get yourself shot this time.’ Shazad whirled to face the remaining soldiers as I did the same. ‘You still owe me those twenty fouza, though.’

‘Double or nothing?’ I offered over my shoulder as we met back to back.

The captain was already giving orders to the confused soldiers, recovering awfully quick considering a new enemy had just appeared out of thin air.

‘Delila!’ Shazad called an order of her own. ‘Drop our cover.’

The illusion lifted like a curtain before a show. Suddenly half the Sultan’s men who’d been standing a moment earlier were crumpled on the ground, and our rebels were in their place, weapons drawn. Behind them was Delila, face still round with innocence, her purple hair that came from not being wholly human falling into wide, frightened-looking eyes. She dropped her hands, shaking with effort and nerves. She was scared but that wasn’t stopping her.