The Wrath and the Dawn(115)

She glanced once more over her shoulder, and her eyes shimmered with tears that threatened to course down her cheeks. “Tariq.”

No. He could not listen to her say it. Would never listen to her say such a thing.

He dropped the bow and drew her against him. “I know this isn’t you. I know something must have happened. But we can fix it. I can fix it. Come home with me. Every day we are apart is a day closer to death. A day wasted on what might have been. I can’t stomach it any longer. Come home.”

“But,” she whispered, “I am home.”

“Shazi!” Rahim’s face twisted in disbelief. “How can you say that?”

“I’m so sorry. I never, ever wanted to hurt either of you. It’s just that—”

“He killed Shiva!” Tariq exploded. “How can you want the boy who killed your best friend? How can you want a cold bastard who killed dozens of young girls and disappears on a lark while his city burns?”

“What did you say?” Shahrzad’s voice was deathly quiet. “The city is—burning?”

Tariq’s brow furrowed. “The lightning. It caught several buildings on fire.”

At this news, Shahrzad shoved Tariq aside and raced to the stable entrance. She hauled back the wooden gate.

And collapsed at the sight.

Half the city was consumed in flames. Smoke billowed into the sky, backlit by flashes of silver lightning. The scent of burning ash mingled with a cloud of rosebushes nearby.

Captain al-Khoury sheathed his sword and crouched beside Shahrzad.

Her look of abject suffering stopped Tariq short.

“Jalal. What have we done?” Her face was unfaltering in its agony.

“No, delam. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault.” Captain al-Khoury placed each of his hands on either side of her face.

“You have to—” Shahrzad released a shaky breath. “We have to stop this. Before anyone else dies.”

“I will do no such thing,” Captain al-Khoury replied.

“What have we done?” It was a pathetic, soul-searing entreaty.

Captain al-Khoury hoisted Shahrzad to her feet. “Nothing. You’ve done nothing.”

She shook her head, her features lost and bleak. “Khalid . . . will have to—”

“No. He would never.”

“But how can we live like this?” she cried. “I can’t. He can’t!”

Tariq could stand it no longer. “What are you talking about?”

“Tariq Imran al-Ziyad.” Captain al-Khoury continued studying Shahrzad while he spoke. “I have a request.”

“The answer is no.”

“Don’t you want to hear it first?”

Tariq glowered at him in silence.

Captain al-Khoury twisted his head to meet Tariq’s gaze. “Take Shahrzad out of Rey.”

“That was always my intention.”

Shahrzad’s eyes glistened. “Jalal—”

“Take her with you.” Captain al-Khoury gripped Shahrzad’s shoulders.

“No. I can’t leave.” She fought to set her quaking jaw. “I won’t leave. I’m not . . . afraid.”

Captain al-Khoury faced her. “Listen to me. For once. I beg you.”

Shahrzad began to protest, and a gust of hot air blew back at them, further dispersing the strange perfume of sweet roses and harsh smoke. She closed her eyes tight and pressed a hand to her chest.

“Tariq. Where is my father?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“Beyond the city,” he replied. “Waiting . . . atop a hill.”

Her eyes flew open, and she stared at Tariq with an eerie, newfound certainty.

“Take me to him.” Without waiting for a response, she brushed past Captain al-Khoury and walked into the stables to saddle a horse.

Tariq turned to watch as she disappeared into the darkness, her posture stiff and her stride perfunctory. He had only begun to process his confusion when Captain al-Khoury seized him by the arm.

Tariq knocked away the arrogant boy’s hand. “What—”

“Do you still love her?” He spoke in an urgent whisper.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Answer me, you fool. Do you?”

Tariq clenched his teeth, returning the captain of the Royal Guard’s fierce glare.

“Always.”