The City of Brass (The Daevabad Trilogy #1) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,183

surely Ali exaggerated. “It was a war—a war your people started. Dara was only defending our tribe.”

“Is that what he told you?” Ali drew in his breath. “Defending . . . Nahri, do you know why people call him the Scourge?”

Something very cold crept down her spine, but she pushed it away. “I don’t. But might I remind you that you were the one who came to me the other night covered in another man’s blood,” she pointed out. “Dara’s hardly the only one keeping secrets.”

Ali abruptly stopped. “You’re right.” He turned to her, his expression resolved. “It was the blood of a shafit assassin. I killed him. He was a member of a political group called the Tanzeem. They advocate—sometimes violently—for the rights of the shafit and are considered criminals and traitors. I was their primary benefactor. My father found out and ordered me to befriend you and convince you to marry my brother as penance.” He raised his dark eyebrows, blood crusted at his hairline. “There. Now you know.”

Nahri blinked, taking it all in. She had known Ali had his own agenda, the same as she did—but it stung to hear it laid out so plainly. “The interest in my country, in improving your Arabic . . . I take it that was all pretense?”

“No, it wasn’t. I swear. However our friendship started, however I felt about your family . . .” Ali looked embarrassed. “It’s been a dark few months. My time with you . . . it was a light.”

Nahri looked away; she had to, she could not bear the sincerity in his face. She caught sight of his bloody wrists still bound in iron. He survives this, she swore to herself. No matter what.

Even if it meant running off with Dara.

They kept walking, Ali throwing the occasional hostile glance at Dara’s back. “Perhaps now it’s your turn.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rather adept at picking locks and negotiating contracts for a maidservant, aren’t you?”

She kicked at the ground, sending a few pebbles flying. “I’m not sure you’d still think of me as a light if I told you about my background.”

“Nahri,” Dara called out, interrupting their quiet conversation.

The cavern had ended. They joined Dara at a rocky ledge overlooking a low drop to a narrow sandy beach that surrounded a still lagoon. In the distance, she could see stars through a slice of sky. The lagoon was strangely luminous, the water a coppery blue that shimmered as if under a tropical sun.

Dara helped her onto the beach and handed her his knife as he dragged Ali down to join them. “I’ll need your blood,” he said, sounding apologetic. “Just a bit on the blade.”

Nahri ran the knife over her palm, getting only a few drops before her skin stitched together. Dara took the knife back and whispered a prayer under his breath. The crimson blood burst into flames as it dripped off the blade.

The lagoon began to churn, a great sucking sound coming from its pit as the water rushed away, and something metallic rose in its center. As Nahri watched, an elegant copper boat burst from the pool’s surface, beads of water skittering off its glimmering hull. It was fairly small, probably built to hold no more than a dozen passengers. There was no sail to be seen, but it looked fast, its stern tapering to a sharp point.

Nahri stepped forward, transfixed by the beautiful boat. “Has this been here all this time?”

Dara nodded. “Since before the city fell. The Qahtani siege was so brutal that no one had a chance to escape.” He shoved Ali into the shallows. “Climb aboard, sand fly.”

Nahri went to follow, but Dara caught her wrist. “I’ll let him go,” he said quietly in Divasti. “I promise. There are supplies waiting for us on the other side of the lake, a carpet, provisions, weapons. I’ll leave him on the beach unharmed, and we’ll fly away.”

His words only worsened her feeling of betrayal. “I’m glad to know we’ll be well-provisioned when the ifrit murder us.”

She tried to pull away, but Dara held her tight. “The ifrit aren’t going to murder us, Nahri,” he assured her. “Things are different now. You’ll be safe.”

Nahri frowned. “What do you mean?”

In the distance, there came the sound of a shout, followed by an inaudible command. The voices were far, belonging to men still unseen, but Nahri knew how quickly the djinn could move.

Dara released her wrist. “I’ll tell you when we’re out of the city. I’ll