The Kingdom of Copper (The Daevabad Trilogy #2) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,114

the reactions from the priests at the Grand Temple. “No, I want you to question me. I’m hoping you can help me convince the rest of our tribe. You’re a Temple-trained noble, the son of the grand wazir … what could sway someone like you to support this?”

He drummed his fingers against his leg. “I’m not certain you could. Let alone what Suleiman’s law says about sharing magic with them … the shafit despise us. You know what they did to the Daevas they caught after Dara’s death. They’d probably murder us all in our beds if they could.”

“Does that not make peace sound rather desirable?”

He sighed. “I don’t see how that’s possible. Look to our history. Whenever the shafit rise, we’re the ones who pay a price.”

“Jamshid, have you ever even had a conversation with a shafit lasting longer than ten minutes?”

He had the grace to blush. “We’re not supposed to interact with the human-blooded.”

“No, what we’re not supposed to do is creep through the human world, seducing virgins and starting wars. It doesn’t say anywhere that we can’t talk to them.” He fell silent but didn’t look convinced. “Speak, Jamshid,” she pressed. “Call me a fool, a tyrant, but say something.”

She saw him swallow. “Why should we have to?” he burst out. “This is our home. We’re not the ones responsible for the shafit. Let the djinn build them hospitals. Why should we be the ones to offer this peace when they’ve done nothing to deserve it?”

“Because it is our home,” she said gently. “And there’s got to be a better way to protect it, to protect all of us. Do you have any idea the size of the shafit neighborhoods, Jamshid? How crowded they are? There are probably more shafit in Daevabad than the rest of the djinn tribes put together, and we can’t rely on the Qahtanis to keep us from each other’s throats forever.” These were thoughts that had been swirling in her head for five years, solidifying more and more each day. “Doing so leaves us vulnerable.”

He seemed to contemplate that. “That’ll be your argument,” he finally said. “People are afraid. Convince them that this is the best way to ensure our safety.”

I can do that. “Excellent. Now, I should be starting my rounds.”

His face lit up. “Wonderful! May I …”

She laughed. “Oh, no.” She pointed to the nearest desk. Well, Nahri knew it was a desk. At the moment, its surface wasn’t visible: it was entirely covered in stacks upon stacks of books, messy notes, pens, inkpots, and empty teacups. “You aren’t touching any of my patients. Work your way through those books first and then we’ll talk.”

Jamshid’s eyes went wide. “All of them?”

“All of them.” She pulled over a blank piece of parchment. “Write your attendants and have them send over some of your things.” She nodded to the couch. “That’s yours. Feel free to make yourself comfortable here.”

He looked dazed, but still eager. “Thank you, Banu Nahida. I hope you know how much this means to me.”

She winked. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that in a month.” She moved toward the curtain, but then stopped and looked back. “Jamshid?”

He glanced up.

“You … you should know that Muntadhir doesn’t support this. He thinks I’m being reckless, and I’m sure he’ll have words about how I’m going to be the downfall of Daevabad the next time you see him.” She paused. If Muntadhir had turned to Jamshid when he found out his brother was returning, she had no doubt he’d do the same after their conversation on the terrace. “If that puts you in an awkward position …”

“You’re my Banu Nahida.” He hesitated, and Nahri could see warring loyalties play across his face. Oddly enough, the way it made his dark eyes crease struck her as familiar. “And I’m Daeva first. You have my support.” He gave her a hopeful smile. “Maybe I can convince him to do the same.”

A mix of relief and guilt flared in her. Nahri didn’t want to put Jamshid in the middle of her marriage, but she would take every advantage she could get. And truthfully, it was clear he was already there. “That would be appreciated.” She nodded at the books and grinned. “Now get to work.”

Two weeks after her barbed family breakfast, Nahri found herself back in the hospital, watching Razu with rapt attention. “Beautiful,” she said admiringly, as the ancient Tukharistani gambler swapped the jewels again, a sleight of hand that betrayed nothing as