Traitor to the Throne (Rebel of the Sands, #2)(26)

‘I said, that’s enough.’ She held me back, arms on my shoulders, bracing me as Hala sneered at me over her shoulder. I strained against her, but familiar hands grabbed me, dragging me back away from the fight. Jin. I didn’t bother to fight as he pulled me against him easily. The familiar heat of his body as my back met his chest.

‘Stop. You know you don’t really want to fight her, Amani.’ He spoke in my ear, low enough so that I was the only one who heard him. So that his breath stirred the hair at the nape of my neck. Everything in me wanted to lean back into him, feel his heartbeat against my spine, and relax back into his presence. But I stilled before I could, forcing myself to pull away from him. To put air between us.

‘Let me go.’ His grip loosened as he felt my body lock up below his touch. I shook him off and his hands dropped away. I could still feel the heat of his palms lingering on my upper arms. Like burn marks. Except Demdji weren’t supposed to burn so easily.

‘Everyone in this tent has people we’d turn the world inside out to protect.’ Shazad turned to Hala. ‘This is not about blood or love. This is about treason. Mahdi has committed a crime against us, and there is judgment to be passed.’

Ahmed hadn’t said a word yet. But now we were all looking at him.

Finally, he spoke. ‘My father would choose execution.’

‘It’s what your brother would choose, too,’ Jin said from behind me. He’d retreated a safe distance from me. Even without looking at him I was keenly aware of him.

‘You’re advocating revenge?’ Ahmed said. ‘An eye for an eye?’

‘It’s not an eye for an eye,’ Jin said. ‘Delila is still alive. Thanks to Amani. So I’m only advocating for one eye.’

Ahmed’s fingers drummed along the map. ‘It doesn’t seem to me that a Sultan should hand out rulings out of spite.’

Mahdi’s words whispered into my mind. Too weak to hold this whole country.

Jin took a step towards Ahmed. ‘Our sister—’

‘She’s not your sister.’ His hand slammed against the table, bringing silence instantly. None of us had ever heard Ahmed lash out at Jin like that. Even Shazad drew back, her eyes flicking between the two brothers. Like she might have to hold one of them back, too. Jin and Delila might not share any blood – not like she did with Ahmed through their mother, or like Jin and Ahmed did through their father – but they’d been raised together. Jin had never called Delila anything but his sister and Delila considered both princes her brothers. But Ahmed was the one who tied them together. ‘And it’s not your decision. It’s mine.’

Jin tightened his jaw. ‘Fine. While you make your decision, I’ll go watch over your sister. Like I watched over her after my mother died. My mother who saved your life, lest we forget. And who died while you were here playing saviour to the country that enslaved her and tried to kill your sister.’

‘Everyone get out.’ Ahmed never took his eyes from his brother as he gave the command. ‘This conversation is between me and my brother.’

‘Don’t bother.’ Jin pushed open the tent flap in one violent movement. ‘We’re done here.’ The night air spilled into the pavilion behind him, pouring the light from Ahmed’s tent across the sand like a beacon.

That was when the gunshot came.

The whole world seemed to slow around us as we stood frozen, our minds struggling to catch up. A bullet was buried in the middle of the table, embedded a hair’s breadth to the left of Ahmed’s hand. Straight above it was a hole in the canopy, right through the yellow of the fabric sun.

Shazad reacted first. Grabbing Ahmed by the front of his shirt, she wrenched him to the ground and under the table a second before the next gunshot sounded. Then another one.

Jin grabbed me at the same moment, sending me sprawling, knocking the air from my lungs. I hit the ground hard, and a stab of violent pain tore through my right shoulder. I cried out. Not a bullet, though. I knew what that felt like. Jin shielded me with his body as bullets tore through the flimsy canvas of the tent.

Sayyida.

The idea hit as hard and sudden as a bullet to the brain. The timing was too perfect. She hadn’t ‘escaped’ with Hala. She’d been bait. A trap. They’d followed her straight back to us.

Screaming started outside, followed by more gunfire. Another bullet struck near us, sending up a spray of sand dangerously close to where Jin and I were. The soldiers were shooting blind, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to hit us.

I reached for my power, but it danced tauntingly out of my grasp. I felt something cold against my hip. I twisted to get a better look. My shirt had ridden up, and the iron of Jin’s belt buckle was pressing into my bare skin, stripping me of my Djinni half. We both winced as another bullet slammed into the table above Ahmed’s and Shazad’s heads.

‘Jin.’ The fall had knocked the air out of my lungs, and there was a shooting pain in my right arm, like it might be broken. It was hard to talk with Jin’s solid weight on top of me. ‘Belt buckle,’ I finally gasped, my chest burning.

Jin understood. He shifted quickly away from me. I felt the iron leave my skin. And suddenly the panic wasn’t a roaring sensation trapped in my chest any more. It was pouring out of me. Into the desert. Into the sand.

I called the desert into a storm.