The Kingdom of Copper (The Daevabad Trilogy #2) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,156

soldiers. But considering the deadly mission that loomed in just a few days, he decided there was no harm in it. “Choose another direction to walk. Vizaresh is lurking back that way.” Though he was slightly disgruntled, he could not help but add, “There is a lovely cove if you follow the eastern beach.”

Bahram looked mortified, but Irtemiz grinned, her dark eyes sparkling with mirth. She grabbed the young man’s hand. “You heard our Afshin.” Laughing, she dragged Bahram off.

Dara watched them go. A quiet sadness stole into his soul as he stood alone. His fellows suddenly seemed so young, so different.

This is not my world. It was clearer to him than it ever had been before. He cared for these people, loved them, but the world he was from had vanished. And it wasn’t coming back. He would always be slightly apart.

Like the ifrit. Dara hated the comparison but knew it was an apt one. The ifrit were monsters, no doubt, but it could not have been easy to watch their world destroyed and remade, to spend millennia trying to recapture it while steadily, one by one, they perished.

Dara was not ready to perish. He closed his eyes, remembering the giddy sensation of being weightless and the way the dark mountains seemed to beckon. This time he couldn’t tamp down the longing in his heart, so he let it remain, laced under a new veneer of determination. Forget the games of the ifrit and the marid’s long-lost secrets—they belonged to a past he wouldn’t let claim him again.

Dara would end this war for his people and see them safe.

Then perhaps, it would be time to discover what else the world offered.

Ali gazed upon the room that was to be Nahri’s office with quiet approval. The completed window seat had been placed in the cozy alcove overlooking the street this morning, and he sank down upon the cushioned bench, pleased at how comfortable it was. Shelves within easy reach lined the alcove—this place would be perfect for reading.

I hope she likes it. Ali gazed beyond the room, past the balcony that overlooked the hospital’s inner courtyard. The sounds of construction—the final stages—came to his ears. I hope this hospital is worth the price we paid for it.

He sighed, turning to peer through the wooden screen that looked out at the street below. It was as close as Ali could get to the slowly recovering shafit workcamp—his father had made clear he would personally double the death toll from the attack if Ali so much as opened his mouth about it.

There was a knock and then Lubayd called out from beyond the archway. “Can I come in? Or do you need a minute?”

Ali rolled his eyes. “Come in.” He turned away from the window. “Aye, not with your pipe,” he scolded. He chased the other man back through the archway, waving the offensive fumes away. “You’ll stink the place up!”

Lubayd’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Well, aren’t you protective of your little Nahid’s sanctuary?”

“I’m protective over everything here,” Ali shot back, unable to check the defensive heat in his voice. Knowing Lubayd to be merciless in his teasing when he spotted weakness, Ali quickly changed the subject. “You shouldn’t be smoking in the hospital anyway. Doctor Sen said she’d toss you out the next time she caught you.”

Lubayd inhaled. “What is life without risk?” He tilted his head toward the stairs. “Come. Aqisa is back from the palace and waiting for you.”

Ali followed him out, returning the various salaams and nods of workers as they passed through the hospital complex. His home and prison for the past two months, the hospital was now all but complete. Attendants were preparing for tomorrow’s opening ceremony, rolling out embroidered silk carpets and conjuring delicate floating lanterns. A few musicians had arrived to practice, and the steady beat of a goblet drum echoed through the courtyard.

He caught sight of Razu and Elashia sitting in a swing deep in the shade of a lime tree. Ali touched his brow in greeting as he passed, but neither woman appeared to notice him. Razu was tucking one of the tree’s silky white flowers behind Elashia’s ear, the ever-silent Sahrayn woman giving her a small smile.

It must be nice to have such a close friendship, he thought reflectively. Ali had Lubayd and Aqisa, of course, and they were truer and more loyal friends than he deserved. But even they had to be kept at an arm’s length; his many secrets