The City of Brass (The Daevabad Trilogy #1) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,20

was at odds with his small, almost pretty pink mouth and the neat green brows that met in the middle of his forehead. His eyes were colorless, and he had just the barest wisps of a gray beard.

He gaped, looking equally surprised at the sight of her. “You . . . you’ve a companion,” he said to the daeva. “Not that I’m displeased, but I must say, Dara . . . I did not take humans as your type.”

“She’s not my companion.” The daeva scowled. “And she’s not entirely human. She’s shafit. She . . .” He cleared his throat, his voice suddenly strained. “She would appear to have some Nahid blood.”

The creature whirled around. “Why do you think that?”

The daeva’s mouth twisted in distaste. “She healed before my eyes. Twice. And she has their gift with languages.”

“The Maker be praised.” Khayzur lurched closer, and Nahri skittered back. His colorless eyes swept her face. “I thought the Nahids were wiped out years ago.”

“As did I,” the daeva said. He sounded unnerved. “And to heal the way she did . . . she can’t merely be a distant descendant. But she looks entirely human—I plucked her from some human city even farther west than we are now.” The daeva shook his head. “Something’s wrong, Khayzur. She claims she knew nothing of our world until last night, but she somehow dragged me halfway across the—”

“She can speak for herself,” Nahri said acidly. “And I didn’t mean to drag you anywhere! I’d have been happier never to have met you.”

He snorted. “You’d have been murdered by that ifrit if I hadn’t shown up.”

Khayzur abruptly raised his hands to silence them. “The ifrit know about her?” he asked sharply.

“More than I do,” the daeva admitted. “One showed up just before I did and wasn’t at all surprised to see her. That’s why I called you.” He waved his hand. “You peris always know more than the rest of us.”

Khayzur’s wings drooped. “Not on this matter—though I wish I did. You’re right, the circumstances are strange.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, the gesture oddly human. “I need a cup of tea.” He abruptly returned to the rug, motioning for Nahri to follow. “Come, child.”

He dropped into a half perch, and a large samovar, fragrant with peppercorns and mace, suddenly appeared in his hands. He snapped his fingers, and three glass cups appeared. He filled them and handed her the first.

She examined the cup in awe; the glass was so thin it seemed almost like the steaming tea floated in her hand. “What are you?”

He gave her a gentle smile that revealed sharply pointed teeth. “I am a peri. My name is Khayzur.” He touched his brow. “An honor to meet you, my lady.”

Well, whatever a peri was, they clearly had better manners than daevas. Nahri took a sip of her tea. It was thick and peppery, burning down her throat in an oddly pleasant way. In an instant, her whole body felt suffused with warmth—and more important, her hunger was sated.

“That’s delicious!” She smiled, her skin tingling from the liquid.

“My own recipe,” Khayzur said proudly. He gave a sidelong glance at the daeva and nodded to the third cup. “If you’d like to stop glowering and join us, that’s yours, Dara.”

Dara. It was the third time the peri had called him that. She flashed him a triumphant smile. “Yes, Dara,” she said, all but purring his name. “Why don’t you join us?”

He threw her a dark look. “I’d prefer something stronger.” But he took the cup and dropped down beside her.

The peri sipped his tea. “Do you think the ifrit will come after her?”

Dara nodded. “It was hell-bent on taking her. I tried to kill it before it abandoned its host, but there’s a good chance it escaped.”

“Then it may have already told its fellows.” Khayzur shuddered. “You’ve no time to puzzle out her origins, Dara. You need to get her to Daevabad as soon as possible.”

Dara was already shaking his head. “I can’t. I won’t. Suleiman’s eye, do you know what the djinn would say if I brought in a Nahid shafit?”

“That your Nahids were hypocrites,” Khayzur replied. Dara’s eyes flashed. “And what of it? Is saving her life not worth embarrassing her ancestors?”

Nahri certainly thought her life was a hell of a lot more important than the reputation of some dead daeva relatives, but Dara didn’t look convinced. “You could take her,” he urged the peri. “Leave her at the banks