Traitor to the Throne (Rebel of the Sands, #2)(92)

I saw it dawn on Tamid’s face, too. He rolled his eyes skyward. ‘God save me.’ Tamid’s father was a hard man. He’d tried to drown Tamid as a baby when he was born with a crooked leg. He was also patriotic to the very core. He invoked the Sultan’s name at every occasion. What would the Sultan think of my weakling of a son, Tamid? What would the Sultan think that a boy in his country can be bested by a girl, Tamid?

‘What would the Sultan think of you taking his daughter to wife, Tamid?’ I did my best imitation of Tamid’s father, like I had when we lived in Dustwalk. Tamid dropped his head into his hands, but he was smiling as I laughed, the alcohol making me feel lighter.

‘What about you?’ Tamid rolled his glass between his hands, the faint smile lingering. ‘You can’t leave. In this grand escape plan, what happens to you?’

I’d been wondering that, too. The thought was suddenly sobering. Shazad had always been willing to give up her own life for the Rebellion. But I didn’t know whether she’d be willing to give up mine or if I’d have to do it myself. Imin had already volunteered if she couldn’t. ‘I don’t leave this palace so long as the Sultan’s got control over me.’ I tried to shrug casually. But Tamid had known me far too long. He could read me better than anyone.

Almost anyone. Jin had understood who I was better than Tamid ever had. And Shazad had seen who I could be. Tamid had always seen who he wanted to. But he still knew when I was hiding something. Traitor eyes.

‘I’d die for this, Tamid. I don’t want to have to. I’d do just about anything to not have to.’ I listened to the roar of the crowds outside. ‘But it’s a whole lot bigger than my life or anyone else’s.’

Tamid set his glass down. ‘I want you to know I don’t believe in your rebellion.’

‘I figured.’ I downed the rest of my drink.

‘And your prince is as likely to destroy this country as anything else.’ I figured that, too. But I didn’t say that. ‘But you were right: I don’t hate you enough to want to watch you die. Take your shirt off.’ That wasn’t what I’d been expecting him to say.

‘Do you say that to all the girls?’ It slipped out. It was a stupid thing to say to someone who wasn’t my friend any more. Who’d been in love with me once. It was stupid to make a joke when Shira’s blood was still cooling in the square and the riot in the streets was still raging. But against all odds, Tamid laughed. He laughed exactly like he used to, with a slight roll of his eyes, like he wanted me to think he was humouring me by laughing. But I knew him better than that.

‘No,’ Tamid picked up a tiny knife with a blade no longer than one of my fingernails. ‘Just the ones I’m about to cut a piece of bronze out of.’

He was serious, I realised. He was going to help me. He knew where the pieces of metal in my skin were. He could take out the one controlling me. That forced me to stay here.

He was going to save my life.





Chapter 35

I could hear Auranzeb already starting on the other side of the wall. The sound of laughter drifted through, high and clear like a bell, a riot of voices, Mirajin and foreign alike, and music running like a soft current underneath.

We stood in the shadow of the harem walls outside the gate, whispering knots of perfectly made-up girls all around me. They kept their distance from me. Nobody in the harem seemed to know exactly what I’d had to do with the events around the blessed Sultima, but that hadn’t stopped the rumours from spreading. Some were even saying they’d seen me help Kadir drown Fadi. I knew they were lying because Hala wasn’t stupid or spiteful enough to plant that image in their heads. I cast around for Leyla, an ally, but I couldn’t find her in the dim light leaking through from the other garden. The shuffle of cloth and breathing and the occasional excited whisper were the only sounds to be heard on our side. We were like penned creatures, waiting. I forced out a long breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

This was it. Tonight we freed the Djinn and Leyla. And one way or another it was my last night in the harem.

My left hand strayed to my side, a nervous habit I’d been trying to break the last few days. The last thing I needed was anyone noticing the tiny healing cut under my arm where Tamid had sliced the piece of bronze out of my skin. The iron was still there. He told me without meeting my gaze that he hadn’t exactly planned on getting the shards of metal out, that I might bleed out if he tried. But I understood the truth of it. He was willing to help me escape, but he wasn’t going to help the Rebellion by giving me back my power. He wasn’t a Traitor like me.

The riots had lasted all night after Shira died. They were being called the Blessed Sultima’s Uprising, for now. But stories were written by the winners. If we lost this war, chances were the name would change to the Disgraced Sultima’s Uprising. They’d left a tension in the air that put a frantic damper on the preparations for Auranzeb. I could feel it even inside the safety of the palace walls.

When daybreak had come after the night of rioting, the Rebellion had claimed part of the city. Sam told me our side had used the riots to erect barricades all the way, hemming off most of the slums and some other parts of the city to claim them in the name of the Rebellion.

In one night we’d taken rebel ground in the capital itself. If that didn’t send a message, I didn’t know what would. There were suns painted on buildings across the city and, most unsettlingly, there was one in bright red paint smeared on a wall at the heart of the palace. Nobody could account for that, except for Imin, that is. But she was now a tiny, doe-eyed servant in the kitchen, and no one would suspect someone so small to be able to reach that high.