waqfs and increase the tax on luxury imports …” Perhaps seeing that the two healers looked lost, he stopped. “Never mind. The two of you tell me what a hospital needs, and I’ll worry about getting it done.” He turned around without waiting for a response. “Now come. The plans say that building ahead was once the apothecary.”
Subha blinked, looking a little bewildered, but she followed Ali, muttering under her breath about youth. Nahri was equally taken aback—but also grateful. Their personal history aside, maybe partnering with Ali wasn’t the worst idea. He certainly seemed confident.
They continued down the weed-covered path, pushing aside wet palm fronds and glistening spider webs. Columns lay smashed on the ground, half swallowed by thick, twisting vines, and a large black snake sunned itself on the remains of a small pavilion.
They crossed under a forbidding arch and into the darkened chamber of the ancient apothecary. Nahri blinked as her eyes adjusted to the loss of light. Whatever floor had been there was long gone, swallowed by dirt, and only scattered sections of broken masonry were left behind. The distant ceiling had likely once been beautiful; blue and gold bits of tile still clung to its delicately carved and stuccoed surface. A swallow’s nest had been built into one elaborate cornice.
A burst of light briefly blinded her. Nahri glanced back to see that Subha had conjured a dancing pair of flames in one hand.
A challenge lit her face at Nahri’s astonishment. “Surely you know there are shafit capable of magic?”
Better than you would imagine. “Ah, of course,” Nahri said weakly. “I’d been told that.” She turned to study the room. The opposite wall was covered in hundreds of drawers. Though rusted over now, they were linked in a clever structure of metal and marble, their contents held behind securely fastened brass doors. Dozens were still clamped shut, their scrollwork surfaces tarnished by green and red rust.
“Care to see what mysterious magical ingredients look like after being locked away for fourteen centuries?” Nahri jested.
“I would rather not,” Subha replied, knocking Ali’s hand away when the prince reached for one of the handles. “No. The two of you can sate your curiosity when I’m gone.”
Nahri hid a smile. The doctor still looked exasperated, but Nahri would take that over openly hostile. “I think there will be more than enough room for all our supplies here.”
“I suspect so, considering my pharmaceuticals fit inside a single chest,” Subha replied. “I usually have to send patients to buy their own medicines for me to prepare. It’s an expense we can’t spare.”
“You won’t have to pay another coin yourself,” Nahri said smoothly. “Well, as long as our royal backer remains so sure of himself.” She smiled sweetly at him, relishing his glower.
A metal glint caught her eye from the ground. Remembering Ali’s comments about seeing tools in the surgical wing, Nahri knelt. Whatever it was was partially buried, half hidden behind a tree root that had burst through the floor and littered the broken tile with mounds of dark soil.
“What’s that?” Subha asked when Nahri reached for it.
“It looks like a scalpel,” Nahri replied, brushing the dirt away. “But it’s stuck.”
Ali leaned over her. “Pull a bit harder.”
“I am pulling hard.” Nahri gave another determined yank, and the blade abruptly came free, bursting out of the dirt with a spray of dark soil—and the skeletal hand still holding it.
Nahri dropped it, falling backward with a startled shriek. Ali grabbed her arm, yanking her back as his other hand went to his zulfiqar.
Subha peered past them. “Is that a hand?” Her eyes went wide with horror.
Ali quickly let Nahri go. “This place was destroyed during the war,” he said haltingly. Guilt flashed in his eyes. “Maybe … maybe not all those killed were put to rest.”
“Obviously not,” Nahri said acidly. Had Subha not been there, she would have had far sharper words, but Nahri didn’t dare start fighting about the war in front of the already apprehensive doctor.
It was Subha, however, who continued. “It seems a terrible thing to attack a place like this,” she said grimly. “No matter how just a war’s cause.”
Ali was staring at the bones. “Maybe that’s not all that happened here.”
“And what exactly do you think happened here that justified destroying a hospital and slaughtering its healers?” Nahri shot back, infuriated by his response.
“I didn’t say it was justified,” Ali defended. “Just that there might be more to the story.”
“I think I’ve had enough of this particular story,”