The Kingdom of Copper (The Daevabad Trilogy #2) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,100

take it this is for protection from those kidnappers, then?” she asked, pulling out a hefty metallic object.

It took Ali a moment to recognize it, and when he did, his blood ran cold.

It was a pistol.

“Nahri, put that down,” he said. “Right now.”

She threw him an irritated look. “Oh, give me some credit. I’m not going to shoot myself.”

“It is a tool of iron and gunpowder and you are the Banu Nahida of Daevabad.” When she frowned, looking confused, his voice broke in alarm. “It explodes, Nahri! We are literally creatures of fire; we don’t go near gunpowder!”

“Ah.” She swallowed and then set it back down, carefully easing the door shut. “Probably best to be careful, then.”

“It’s mine alone,” Parimal said quickly, an obvious lie. “Subha knew nothing.”

“You shouldn’t have that here,” Ali warned. “It’s incredibly dangerous. And if you got caught?” He looked between the two. “Shafit possession of even a small amount of gunpowder is punished with execution.” Granted, Ali suspected that was a punishment driven by fear of the shafit as much as it was of gunpowder—no pureblooded djinn wanted a weapon around that the shafit could handle with more finesse. “Add a pistol? This entire block would be leveled.”

Subha gave him a wary look. “Is that a warning or a charge?”

“A warning,” he replied, meeting her eyes. “One I’d beg you heed.”

Nahri returned to his side, her swagger gone. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Truly. I wasn’t sure what to think when I saw that man. I’ve heard rumors of how desperate the shafit are, and I know how easily people can prey upon that type of fear.”

Subha stiffened. “That you would think such a thing of me says far more about you.”

Nahri winced. “You’re probably right.” She dropped her gaze, looking uncharacteristically chastened, and then reached for her bag. “I … I brought you something. Healing herbs and willow bark from my garden. I thought you could use them.” She offered the bag.

The doctor made no move to take it. “You must know nothing of your family’s history if you think I’d ever give ‘medicine’ prepared by a Nahid to a shafit.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is that why you’re here? To spread some new disease among us?”

Nahri recoiled. “Of course not!” Genuine shock filled her voice, tugging at Ali’s heart. “I … I wanted to help.”

“Help?” The doctor glared. “You broke into my practice because you wanted to help?”

“Because I wanted to see if we could work together,” Nahri rushed. “On a project I’d like to propose to the king.”

Subha was staring at the Banu Nahida as if she’d sprouted another head. “You want to work with me? On a project you intend to propose to the king of Daevabad?”

“Yes.”

The doctor’s gaze somehow grew even more incredulous. “Which is …?”

Nahri pressed her hands together. “I want to build a hospital.”

Ali gaped at her. She might as well have said she wished to throw herself before a karkadann.

“You want to build a hospital?” the doctor repeated blankly.

“Well, not so much build one as rebuild one,” Nahri explained quickly. “My ancestors ran a hospital before the war, but it’s in ruins now. I’d like to restore and reopen it.”

The Nahid hospital? Certainly she couldn’t mean … Ali shuddered, searching for a response. “You want to recover the Nahid hospital? The one near the Citadel?”

She looked at him with surprise. “You know about that place?”

Ali fought very hard to keep his face composed. There was nothing in Nahri’s voice that suggested she’d asked the question in anything other than innocence. He dared a glance at Subha, but she looked lost.

He cleared his throat. “I … er … might have heard a thing or two about it.”

“A thing or two?” Nahri pressed, eyeing him closely.

More. But what Ali knew about that hospital—about what had been done there before the war, and the brutal, bloody way the Nahids had been punished for it—those facts were not widely known and certainly not ones he was about to share. Especially with an already arguing Nahid and shafit.

He shifted uncomfortably. “Why don’t you tell us more about your plan?”

Her eyes stayed on his, heavy with scrutiny for another moment, but then she sighed, turning back to Subha. “A single cramped infirmary is no place to treat the entirety of Daevabad’s population. I want to start seeing people who didn’t have to pay a bribe to gain access to me. And when I reopen the hospital, I want it open to all.”

Subha narrowed her