The Blind Wish Page 14

  “Welcome back,” she said. She smiled with her lips together, sweet and warm. “This is Abdas.”

  Abdas bowed his head at me. “Najwa, it’s nice to see you again.”

  “You know each other?” Rahela asked.

  “Of course! Her mother was my teacher, before I got my mark.” He nodded at the spider marked onto his skin. “I’ve known her since she was seven years old. She used to watch us weave, never saying a word. I always wondered why you were so different from your mother, Najwa. And now we know.” He said the last part as though he had found something long lost. His cheeks and eyes were shining, and I felt myself pulled into this happiness, this freshness.

  Rahela scooted back her bench and came over to me. “You look so tired, Najwa. When Zayele’s eyes start getting red around the lids, I know it’s time to get her to lie down.” She half carried, half dragged me out of the room, calling out at Abdas, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Why is he here?” I asked, sounding surlier than I had meant to.

  “I was out of yarn yesterday and went to the market to find some more, and he started talking to me.” She shrugged. “I know it’s unusual for me to befriend a strange man, but he is so kind. Is he truly this way?”

  I nodded. “I don’t think he could be deceitful if he tried.”

  She helped me through my door and to my bed, then lifted my legs up onto the mattress. “I’m relieved to know this. He suggested I try these other colors, which were in a bin hidden behind the table. He works at that store, and he made those yarns. When I first felt them under my fingers, they reminded me of the poppies that grew in the fields by my village, vibrant and strong.”

  I laid my head on the pillow and let her lay one of Laira’s blankets on me. “I’m glad you’ve found something that reminded you of home.”

  “Please don’t think I am trying to attract Abdas,” she said quickly. “Because I am not.”

  “I don’t.” I didn’t think Abdas was the kind of man who noticed a woman. His passion was for weaving, through and through.

  “I’ve sworn off marriage and men. I’m going to throw myself into this new rug, and then maybe another. Abdas said he might talk to Laira and see about getting some help from her.”

  I almost sat up at that. “No, don’t let him do that. Laira is still…wary of humans. Even ones like you.”

  “All right then.” She smiled, contented. “Before I switched to these yarns, I felt so heavy and dark. My fingers stumbled along on the loom. But now they’re flying, finding their way through the warp like a sparrow in the orchard. We’ve been up weaving all night, and neither one of us is tired. We keep saying we’re going to keep going until it’s done. It feels like…magic.”

  I tried to tell her I was happy for her, but I felt heavy myself, and it didn’t take long before I was gone, dreaming of birds trapped in the Cavern, wings tired and drooping from too much flying up against the crystal ceiling.

  THE SHAITAN COMMAND was a fortress. Jagged, knee-high points of granite topped a surrounding wall drenched in silver. At each end of the wall loomed an observation tower made of polished bronze. Two golden lions flanked an iron gate, and I half expected them to roar as I approached. If there had been any sunlight in the Cavern, the Shaitan Command would have been blinding.

  A tall, muscular guard stopped me at the entrance by stepping in front of me and putting his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “Are you expected?”

  I tried to stand a little taller. “I’m here to see Taja.”

  He nodded and let me pass through, but I was stopped again at a desk with another guard sitting behind it. Behind him was a wall of copper disks, just like at the Eyes of Iblis Command. “Will you be coming here again, or is this a one-time visit?”

  Taja walked up to the desk, appearing from within the fortress, and smiled at me. “She’ll be here often, Tamil. Go ahead and make her a disk.”

  I held out my finger so he could prick it for a drop of blood. He put the blood on a new disk he took from a box, blew on it till it was dry, and then hung it on the board behind him.

  “They’re ready for you,” Taja said while I shook the pain from my finger. Tamil waved me on, and I caught up to Taja, who had already passed through the entrance.

  The interior of the Shaitan Command was a huge rectangular training yard. Pillars held up a second floor along the inside of the wall, but there were no structures in the center. It was clear that the primary activities in the Shaitan took place in this dirt yard.

  A group of soldiers stood in two lines, not far from the entrance. At their front stood Aga, Melchior’s dyad, and Captain Rashid. Aga saw me and raised a brow, but Captain Rashid smiled and advanced toward us.

  “Good morning, Taja. Zayele, I’m relieved to see you’re ready to begin training with us. Are you able to run?”

  “I think so.”

  “I need you to be certain,” he said. His face scrunched into concern.

  “Yes. I can run.” Maybe.

  “Good. We will do our exercise first, and then I will introduce you to the top candidates for your dyad.” He smiled, as though I should be excited to meet the man who’d be my lifetime partner. The partner I wasn’t able to choose for myself. Then he added, “Don’t worry. Atish is still a candidate.”

  Taja took my arm and pulled me aside after a nod at Captain Rashid. “They’re going to run in the tunnels today. Do you think you can manage it? I’ll be there too.”

  My stomach turned, but I shrugged it off. “Of course.”

  “Good. Let’s get in line.”

  We walked down the line, and I looked at the collection of Shaitan, wondering who were the others at the top of the list. I saw Atish, but he was at attention and could not turn to acknowledge me. He was wearing the same thing as the others: a pair of soft trousers, leather boots, and a vest. The women wore a tunic in place of a vest. They were dressed for physical activity. I, however, was wearing a dress that came to my ankles and had only managed to tie back my hair.

  Taja saw me eyeing my clothes and chuckled. Then she made a wish and pointed at me. My dress peeled apart to reveal the same attire the Shaitan were outfitted in. My tunic was soft and loose, like Taja’s, and my hair was tied back with a leather cord.

  “Thank you. I should learn that wish right away.”

  “I do what I can,” Taja said with a grin.

  —

  The tunnel entrance was directly behind the Command, which was a relief because we jogged to it. It was wide enough for three columns to run side by side, and it was lit by the occasional wishlight along the way. There were two deep grooves in the floor, like something large had been dragged through the tunnel. The fluttering began in my stomach now, more intense than when I had gone to my first magus training.

  “This is one of the Shaitan’s tunnels to the surface,” Taja said. She spoke easily, as though we weren’t running. “More specifically, this is the tunnel to Samarra. The Shaitan army runs the length of this tunnel. They don’t transport to the entrances, because it’s a waste of wishpower. It’s also not a good idea to transport en masse.”

  The Cavern reached out to so many places, it was like a central connection to anywhere in the world. “How far do they have to run?”

  “This one is roughly fifteen miles in length.”

  “Oh.”

  “And it’s slightly uphill.”

  “Slightly,” I repeated with a groan.

  She smiled. “You’ll get used to it. At least you’ll never have to pull the carts of supplies too. They’re full of weapons and replenishments, and they’re heavy.”

  “So that’s what those grooves are from?” I asked, pointing at the floor.

  “Yes.”

  “But why are we running? Can’t magi just transport everywhere?”

  “When you are bonded to a Shaitan, you’ll be running right alongside him. If he has to run, you run. If he has to jump, you jump.”

  “We’re running to Samarra no
w?” I was breathing heavily already.

  “I never know how long Rashid will have us run. We go until he gets tired.”

  That didn’t make me feel any better. Rashid didn’t look like the sort of man who tired quickly.

  —

  We didn’t talk for a while after that. I focused on keeping one foot in front of the other, trying not to trip over anything that might be lying on the tunnel floor. I had never run this distance in my life, but I used to race the others up and down the gorge, back in Zab. We’d never gone far, but the terrain was tough and there were animals, weather, and strangers that we had to be wary of. At least this time, I could shuffle along and not worry about falling into a river.

  This training session had nothing to do with magic. It was all about pushing oneself past the pain. This I could do, so I tried to keep my breathing even and watch the Shaitan jogging in front of me.

  As I ran, I thought about what had happened the day before. I thought about how it felt to arrive back in Zab and hear the soft swooshing of the river flowing past. But then I thought of being thrust against the cliff face and being tossed into the cold current. An arrow had pierced my shoulder. I had nearly drowned, but I had managed to drag myself onto the spit of land and stand up—not just onto my feet, but also against my entire village.

  I picked up my pace and kept going, trying to ignore the burning in my shins. Running uphill, I found, was not painless. But the Shaitan could do it, and human or not, I was going to make myself run as well as they did. Finally, someone blew a whistle and the columns turned around.

  “Now we’re at the front,” Taja said. “We get to keep the pace.”

  I nodded, but I couldn’t speak.

  —

  When we finally emerged from the tunnel, I was stumbling more than running.

  Melchior was standing in the center of the training yard beside Aga, with his arms crossed. We eyed each other while a half dozen young jinn ran to us and handed out bowls of water.

  I grabbed one of the bowls and dunked my face into the water. When I had drained the bowl, I found Melchior standing in front of me.

  “You made it back,” he said simply.

  “She did very well,” Taja said.

  I wiped the water off my face with the back of my sleeve, which was a waste because my clothes were dripping in sweat.

  “Hmm” was all he said. Then he went back to stand beside Aga, who clapped her hands together and called the exhausted Shaitan to attention.

  “Everyone is released for the rest of the hour, except for the remaining candidates.”

  Five Shaitan separated from the others and made their way to Aga. Atish caught my eye and smiled, but it was a tired smile. Was he worried he wouldn’t be chosen?

  Aga brought them over to me and told me their names. “Zayele, these are the last five, or top five, if you prefer. We will continue to test them until it’s time for you to make the final choice.”

  They were letting me have a say in this after all! I studied them. Atish was warm and friendly. Samir was just as serious as he had seemed during his fight with Atish. And Arzada was smaller and wirier than the others. He smiled and bowed his head at me. His eyes were bright and kind, which was a change from Samir’s. The other two, Akbar and Kian, who looked like they could be twins, were both sturdy and quick.

  “Thank you, Aga,” Taja said. She clasped my shoulder. “We all need to get some rest now. Tomorrow’s training will be both mentally and physically challenging.”

  Melchior nodded in agreement. “And Zayele seems to need more rest than the average jinni.”

  Because I was human. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. He nodded at the other women, then at me, and headed straight for the gate. After he was gone and Aga and the Shaitan had left us alone, Taja toed the dirt at our feet.

  “Melchior is going to be there. Tomorrow is important.”

  “NAJWA, COME,” DELIA said when I entered the room with the Eye. My images from the day before were still spread across the entire wall, as if they’d been etched onto the crystal. Kamal, smiling as he took a sip from his cup. Ibrahim, looking sidelong at the man beside him. The peacock, tail flushed out like so many eyes, so many jewels, and a hard, yellow beak. “I have a message for you.”

  She picked up a scroll off the table and handed it over to me. It had to have come from Kamal. My fingers shook while I uncurled it.

  To Jinni Consul Najwa al-Rahman:

  You are invited to meet with several members of the Court of Honor. We will be convening in the House of Wisdom’s great hall following tomorrow’s Dhuhr prayers. You may bring an escort for your personal protection if you wish, but we will be unarmed.

  Cordially,

  Kamal ibn Mansur al-Abbas, Grand Vizier of Baghdad

  I brushed my finger over the ink, grateful the Lamp had transported it without changing the way the letters slanted just a little too far to the left. This was Kamal’s handwriting, without a doubt.

  “Dhuhr prayers are in the afternoon,” I said. “I don’t have much time to prepare.”

  “We need to select an escort for you too.” Delia took the scroll from me and set it back on the table, where I could no longer touch what had been in his hands.

  “I need an escort?” I asked.

  She nodded and turned to look at the wall of images. “I’m sure Kamal would not invite you if he felt there would be any threat to you, but I do not trust Prince Ibrahim, or that man there,” she said, pointing to the man at Ibrahim’s right side. “Badr al-Din. His influence stretches from the Court of Honor deep into the army. He is Ibrahim’s trusted friend, and he will be there to greet you, without a doubt. Another man, Zakariyya Hadrami, will be there too. Both of these men are supporters of Ibrahim and have already started spreading the word that Kamal is not the best choice for vizier.”

  Badr al-Din looked like he had gone to the army when he was young and had never left. He wore half of his armor at the feast. It seemed stuck to him, like a second skin, or scales. Zakariyya Hadrami, on the other hand, wore no armor, but his beard was long and gray, and his robes were spotless and black. In the image, he was frowning at a plate of grapes, as if they had said something heretical.

  “You know everything,” I said.

  Delia almost smiled. “There is much to be learned in the corners of teahouses. A little experience helps too. I want you to memorize these men’s names and faces, as well as decide how you will dress for the meeting. Come back in an hour in those clothes. I am going to go choose your escort.”

  “But I thought…” I let the words trail after one look from Delia.

  “You may be the appointed consul, but you’re not going to be in charge of this mission. There are some in the Corps who have asked to take a more involved approach.” She sighed and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s frustrating, but you are so young. Imagine if you had been in the Corps for years and years, and suddenly the newest member is the most crucial piece in the puzzle. You’d have trouble believing she could do all that is required too.”

  Her words stung but I nodded.

  “I will see you at the Lamp,” Delia said. Then she guided me to the door, patted my back, and sent me on my way.

  I left the Command feeling as though I’d been pricked by a thorn and everything was spilling out.

  —

  I returned an hour later wearing a hijab in the Baghdad style, with my hair unadorned and peeping out beneath. I wore a simple gray gown embroidered on the sleeves with green thread that curled in on itself over and over again in small, soft waves.

  A man stood facing the Lamp, with his back turned toward me. He had short black hair, a charcoal tunic that fell to the back of his knees, and matching trousers. I didn’t recognize him, but I knew in a flash what sort of man he was, because of the emblem embroidered with red thread onto his sleeve. It was a bat, which meant he was from the Mark of the Law.

  Why would someone whose job it was to uphold our l
aws be here, by the Lamp? Certainly he wasn’t going to be my escort.

  I looked over to Delia, who stood beside him but was facing me. She took in my clothing choices, nodded, and tapped his shoulder. The man turned and my face flushed. It was Firuz.

  “Hello again, Najwa.”

  Delia looked at him. “You’ve met before?”

  “Only…once,” he said.

  He had a dagger tucked into his belt, and since Kamal had mentioned everyone would be unarmed, I’d expected my escort would be also. This dagger looked ornamental, but I knew what it was. It was Shabawez, the Knife of the Law.

  “I did not fully introduce myself before.” He bowed and clutched the hilt of his dagger. “I’m Firuz, from the Mark of the Law.”

  I bowed in return, and waited for Delia to tell me what I already knew. She inhaled for a moment, as if she needed to think carefully before she said anything, and then came to join us. “We’ve chosen him to accompany you to Baghdad. He will have seniority over you, but of course they will not know that. To the humans, he will appear to be nothing more than your guard.”

  “Won’t they know what he is by the symbol of the bat?”

  They exchanged a tight, knowing smile before Firuz answered me. “The humans do not know all of our symbols, but this is a good question. I will hide it while we’re there. They may, perhaps, confuse me with one of the Shaitan. This will afford you greater protection.”

  “Firuz is the wisest choice,” Delia said. “He is trained to notice dishonesty, which will be helpful when you’re speaking with the ministers in the court.”

  They were risking my safety in exchange for someone who could gather more information. They did not trust me to do my job.

  “Before we go, there is a wish I must perform so that I can send my thoughts into your mind,” Firuz said.

  I backed up, careful not to knock over the heavy Lamp. He was not smiling, and his eyebrows had gone very straight. “You’re going to open up the channel between our minds,” I said dryly. “Can you also listen to our thoughts without such a wish?” Had he read my mind before, when we first met? And what had he seen when he’d found me at my mother’s Funeral Crystal?