The City of Brass (The Daevabad Trilogy #1) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,182

she didn’t expect one. Instead, she stepped through the gap. She got one last glimpse of her infirmary, and then the wall sealed behind her.

They walked for what felt like hours.

The narrow passageway Dara led them through was so tight that they had to literally squeeze through at points, scraping their shoulders on the rough stone walls. Its ceiling soared and dipped, rising to towering heights before plunging so low they were forced to crawl.

Dara had conjured up small fireballs that danced overhead as they journeyed through the otherwise pitch-black tunnel. No one spoke. Dara seemed intensely focused on sustaining whatever magic held the passage open while Ali drew increasingly ragged breaths. Despite being healed, the prince didn’t look well. Nahri could hear his heart racing, and he kept bumping into the close walls like a dizzy drunk.

He finally stumbled to the ground, crashing hard into the backs of Dara’s legs. The Afshin swore and turned around.

Nahri swiftly stepped between them. “Leave him alone.” She helped Ali to his feet. He was sweating ash and seemed to have trouble focusing on her face. “Are you okay?”

He blinked and swayed slightly. “Just having some issues with the air.”

“The air?” She frowned. The tunnel smelled a bit stale for sure, but she could breathe just fine.

“It’s because you do not belong here,” Dara said darkly. “This is not your city, not your palace. The walls know that even if you Geziri dogs do not.”

Nahri glared at him. “Then let’s hurry.”

As they walked, the tunnel widened and grew steep, eventually shifting into a long set of crumbling steps. She braced herself against the wall, flinching when it turned damp beneath her hands. In front of her, she heard Ali take a deep breath of the humid air. As the stairs grew slippery with moisture, she would swear his steps looked surer.

Dara stopped. “It’s flooded ahead.”

The flames above their heads brightened. The steps ended in a pool of still black water that smelled as vile as it looked. She drew to a stop at the edge, watching the flickering lights reflect on the water’s oily surface.

“Afraid of a little water?” Ali pushed past Dara and strode confidently into the dark pool, stopping when it reached his waist. He turned back. His ebony robe melted so easily into the black water that it looked like the liquid itself was draped over his shoulders. “Worried the marid will get you?”

“At home in there, aren’t you, little crocodile?” Dara mocked. “Does it remind you of Ta Ntry’s fetid swamps?”

Ali shrugged. “Sand fly, dog, crocodile . . . Are you just working your way through the animals you can name? How many can be left? Five? Six?”

Dara’s eyes flashed, and then he did something Nahri had never seen him do.

He stepped into the water.

Dara raised his hands, and the water fled, rushing over rocks and dashing through crevices. The drops that didn’t make it sizzled underfoot as he passed through.

Nahri’s mouth fell open. His ring was glowing, a bright green light, like the sun shining upon a wet leaf. She thought back to what he’d done to the shedu, to Ali’s zulfiqar, to the iron bindings.

And suddenly she wondered just how many secrets Dara was holding back from her. Their kiss in the cave seemed very long ago.

The Afshin shoved a visibly shocked Ali forward. “Keep walking, djinn, and watch your mouth. It would greatly upset the Banu Nahida if I cut out your tongue.”

Nahri quickly caught up to Ali.

“So his very presence boils water now?” Ali whispered, giving Dara’s back a nervous look. “What manner of horrors is that?”

I have no idea. “Maybe it’s just part of being a slave,” she said weakly.

“I’ve known freed slaves. They don’t have that kind of power. He probably went the way of the ifrit and gave himself over to demons long ago.” He grimaced and looked down at her, lowering his voice even further. “Please, in the name of the Most High, tell me you don’t truly intend to go off with him.”

“You do remember the zulfiqar at your throat?”

“I will throw myself in the lake before I let that monster use my life to steal yours.” He shook his head. “I should have just given you that book in the garden. I should have told you about the cities he destroyed, the innocents he murdered . . . you’d have stuck a knife in his back yourself.”

Nahri recoiled. “I would never.” She knew Dara had a bloody past, but