The Kingdom of Copper (The Daevabad Trilogy #2) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,188

She turned around.

Her eyes had no sooner met his than Nahri’s face crumpled in grief. Heartsick, Ali rushed to her side. She trembled, shaking her head and looking like it was taking every bit of strength she had not to cry.

“I can’t,” she choked out. “Not here.”

Wordlessly, Ali took her hand. She didn’t resist, letting him lead her out of the room and into the garden. They had barely closed the door when she broke down sobbing.

“They killed Nisreen,” she wept. “They shot her and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t …”

Ali pulled her into his arms. She started to cry harder and they sank slowly to the floor.

“She taught me everything,” Nahri gasped through her sobs. “Everything. And I couldn’t do a damned thing to save her.” She shook violently against him. “She was scared, Ali. I could see it in her eyes.”

“I’m so sorry, Nahri,” he whispered, at a loss for anything else to say. “I’m so, so sorry.” Not knowing what else to do, he simply held her as she cried, her tears soaking through his dishdasha. He ached to do something, anything, that would make this better.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting there when the call to asr prayer came. Ali closed his wet eyes, letting the muezzins’ call wash over him. It put a little steadiness back into his spirit. Today’s attack was awful, but the adhan was still being sung. Time wasn’t stopping in Daevabad, and it would be up to them to make sure this tragedy didn’t shatter the city.

The adhan seemed to bring Nahri back to herself as well. She took a shaky breath, pulling away to wipe her eyes.

She stared at her hands, looking utterly lost. “I don’t know what to say to them,” she murmured, seemingly as much to herself as to Ali. “I told my people we could trust the shafit. But we were just attacked with human weapons, with Rumi fire, when we were celebrating our holiday in our city.” Her voice was hollow. “How can I call myself a Banu Nahida if I can’t protect my own people?”

Ali reached out, taking her chin in his hands. “Nahri, you’re not responsible for this. Not in any way. A few twisted souls exploited a security weakness that, to be honest, we should have prepared for the first time those damnable weapons showed up in this city. It has no bearing on your outreach to the shafit, no bearing on your position as Banu Nahida. You saved lives,” he assured her. “I heard what you did to put out the fire. You think anyone but a Banu Nahida could have done that?”

Nahri didn’t appear to hear him, lost in whatever darkness clouded her mind. “This can’t happen again,” she muttered. “Never again.” Her expression abruptly sharpened, her eyes fixing on his. “The woman who warned you … where is she? I want to talk to her.”

Ali shook his head. “She knew nothing more.”

“She clearly knew enough!” She jerked free of his hands. “Maybe you couldn’t get any more information from her, but I bet I can.”

The vengeance in her voice unsettled him. “She wasn’t behind this, Nahri. And I couldn’t find her if I tried.”

“Then what’s her name? I’ll have my people search for her if you won’t.”

Ice crept over Ali’s skin. Right now, he would have done almost anything to help Nahri … but he couldn’t give her that. He bit his lip, fighting for words. “Nahri, I know you’re grieving—”

“You know?” She shoved away from him. “What do you know about grief?” Her wet eyes flashed. “Who have you lost, Ali? Who’s died in your arms? Who have you begged to come back, to look at you one last time?” She staggered to her feet. “The Daevas bleed, the shafit bleed, and there the Geziris stand. Safe in their deserts back home, secure in the palace here.”

Ali opened and closed his mouth, but that was not a charge he could dispute. “Nahri, please,” he begged. “We … we’ll fix this.”

“And what if we can’t?” Her voice cracked in exhaustion. “What if Daevabad is just broken in a way that can’t be repaired?”

He shook his head. “I refuse to believe that.”

Nahri just stared at him. The anger was gone, replaced by a pity that made him feel even worse. “You should leave, Alizayd. Escape this awful place while you still can.” Bitterness creased her features. “I know I would.” She turned for the door. “I need to