The City of Brass (The Daevabad Trilogy #1) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,149

holding it down. “Quiet,” he warned, jerking his head toward the darkened archive from which he and Nahri had just emerged. “We’re not doing this here.”

Still glowering, Rashid followed him, but Ali had no sooner shut the door than the other man whirled on him again.

“Tell me there’s something I’m missing, brother,” he demanded. “Please. Because I cannot reconcile the young man Anas sacrificed himself to save with one who would force shafit into the bronze boat.”

“I’m the city’s Qaid,” Ali said, hating the defensiveness in his voice. “Those men attacked the Daeva Quarter. They were tried and sentenced under our law. It was my duty.”

“Your duty,” Rashid scoffed, pacing away. “Being Qaid is not the only duty put upon you in this life.” He glanced back. “I suppose you’re not so different from your brother, after all. A pretty fire worshipper flutters her lashes and you—”

“That’s enough,” Ali snapped. “I made clear my intention to stop funding the Tanzeem when I learned you were buying weapons with my money. I offered you the retirement to save your life. And as for the Banu Nahida . . .” Ali’s voice grew heated. “My God, Rashid, she’s a human-raised girl from Egypt—not some fiery preacher from the Grand Temple. My father’s guest. Surely you’re not so biased against the Daevas that you oppose my befriending—”

“Befriending?” Rashid interrupted, looking incredulous. “You don’t take friends from among the fire worshippers, Alizayd. That’s how they trick you. Getting close to the Daevas, integrating them into the court and the Royal Guard—that’s what’s led your family astray!”

Ali’s voice was cold. “Surely you see the hypocrisy in accusing another of tricking me into friendship.” Rashid flushed. Ali pressed on. “I’m finished with the Tanzeem, Rashid. I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to. Not anymore. My father found out about the money.”

That finally shut down the other man’s tirade. “Does he suspect you of anything else?”

Ali shook his head. “I doubt I’d be standing here if he knew about Turan. But the money was enough. I’m sure he has people watching my every move, not to mention my Treasury accounts.”

Rashid paused, a bit of the anger gone. “Then we’ll lie low. Wait a year or so for the scrutiny to die down. In the meantime—”

“No,” Ali cut in, his voice firm. “My father made it clear that it was innocent shafit who would pay if he caught so much as a whiff of betrayal from me. I won’t risk that. Nor do I need to.”

Rashid frowned. “What do you mean you don’t need to?”

“I made a deal with my brother,” Ali explained. “For now, I fall in line with my father’s plans. When Muntadhir’s king, he’ll let me take a stronger hand in managing issues with the shafit.” His voice rose with excitement; his mind had been spinning with ideas since that day. “Rashid, think what we could do for the shafit if we had a king who openly supported our goals. We could organize work programs, expand the orphanage with money from the Treasury . . .”

“Your brother?” Rashid repeated in disbelief. “You think Muntadhir is going to let you help the shafit—with money from the palace, at that?” He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t possibly be that naive, Ali. The only thing your brother’s going to do to the Treasury is drain it to pay for wine and dancing girls.”

“He won’t,” Ali protested. “He’s not like that.”

“He’s exactly like that,” Rashid replied. “Besides which, you haven’t fallen in line, not really. If you were loyal, you would have had us arrested.” He nodded rudely at the retirement papers. “I’d be dead, not pensioned off.”

Ali hesitated. “We have different views on how to help the shafit. That doesn’t mean I want you hurt.”

“Or you know we’re right. At least part of you does.” Rashid let the words hang in the air and then sighed, suddenly looking a decade older. “You won’t be able to continue like this, Alizayd,” he warned. “To keep walking a path between loyalty to your family and loyalty to what you know is right. One of these days, you’re going to have to make a choice.”

I’ve made my choice. Because as much as Ali had initially disagreed with his father’s plans regarding Nahri, he was starting to see where they could lead. A marriage between the emir and the Banu Nahida could bring true peace between the Daevas and the Geziris. And a Banu Nahida raised in the human world—who