being used loosely covered in crisp linen. Cupboards lined one wall, and beside them a desk faced the courtyard, stacked high with books.
Nahri, of course, had ignored the doctor’s command, and Ali watched helplessly as she drifted toward the desk and began flipping through a book, a grin on her face. He’d seen that look back when they’d been friends: when she’d read her first sentence correctly and when they’d gazed upon the moon through a human telescope, ruminating on the source of its shadows. Her desire to learn had been one of the things that had drawn him to her, a thing they had in common. He had not, however, expected it to lead them to a shafit doctor in one of the city’s more dangerous neighborhoods.
The sound of a crying infant broke the silence. The door creaked open again, the wailing growing louder.
“Subha, love, are you already done, then?” A new voice, a man’s low rumble. “The baby is hungry, but she won’t eat any of the … oh.” The man trailed off as he stepped into the infirmary.
The newcomer was enormous, easily one of the largest men Ali had ever see. A mop of messy black curls fell past his shoulders, and his nose looked like it had been broken multiple times. Ali instantly raised his zulfiqar, but far from being armed, the man held only a wooden spoon and a small baby.
Ali lowered his weapon with some embarrassment. Maybe Nahri had a point about him being jumpy.
“And that’s the last of it,” the doctor announced, setting down her needle and sitting back. She reached for a tin of salve and then quickly bandaged the man’s eyes. “You’ll be keeping this on for a full week, understand? Don’t pester it.”
She rose to her feet. The doctor looked younger than Ali would have expected, but that might have been thanks to her djinn blood, which was quite apparent. Though her dark brown skin didn’t have the telltale shine of a pureblood, her ears were as peaked as his own and there was only a glimmer of brown in her Agnivanshi-tin eyes. Her dark hair was plaited in a thick braid that fell to her waist, a line of vermilion neatly set in the part.
She wiped her hands on a cloth tucked into her waistband and then looked them over, a muscle working in her cheek. It was an appraising gaze, one that flickered from the crying baby to linger on Ali and Nahri before returning to the child.
Far from ruffled, she appeared unimpressed and rather irritated. “Manka …,” she started, and the doorman’s head snapped up. “I want you to help Hunayn to the recovery room. Parimal, bring the baby here.”
Both men instantly obeyed, one helping the groggy patient out while the other handed the baby over. The doctor took her child, her gaze not once leaving Ali and Nahri’s faces as she rearranged her sari over her chest and the baby’s sobs turned to happy suckling.
Ali swallowed, fixing his gaze upon the opposite wall. Nahri didn’t seem bothered by any of this; she was still standing at the desk with a book in her hand.
The doctor narrowed her eyes, glaring at the Banu Nahida. “If you wouldn’t mind …”
“But of course.” Nahri set down the book and then took a seat next to Ali. “Was that cataract surgery you were doing?”
“Yes.” The woman’s voice stayed clipped. She took a seat on a wooden stool across from them. “And it’s a complicated, delicate procedure … one I don’t like interrupted.”
“We’re sorry,” Ali rushed to say. “We didn’t mean to barge in.”
The woman’s expression didn’t change. He tried not to squirm; it felt like being confronted by Hatset crossed with the most terrifying of his old tutors.
The doctor pursed her lips, nodding at the zulfiqar. “Mind putting that away?”
He flushed. “Of course.” He quickly sheathed the sword and then pulled down his face covering. It didn’t seem right to intrude upon these people and remain anonymous. He cleared his throat. “Peace be upon you,” he offered weakly.
Parimal’s eyes went wide. “Prince Alizayd?” His gaze darted to Nahri. “Does that mean you’re—”
“Daevabad’s newest Nahid?” the doctor cut in, her voice filled with scorn. “Seems likely. So are the two of you here to shut us down, then? Planning to haul me off to the bronze boat for trying to help my people?”
The mention of the bronze boat sent ice into his veins; Ali had once been forced to do just