The Rose & the Dagger (The Wrath and the Dawn #2) - Renee Ahdieh Page 0,46
keep doing as you please and expecting everyone to wait for you. As though we have nothing better to do. As though we are capable of nothing else.”
“I know. That was never my intention.” Shahrzad chewed her lower lip. “But—can we please speak of this tomorrow?” Her eyes darted into the desert again, and Irsa felt the heat of resentment rise anew, pricking at the corners of her eyes.
“Go.” She shook off her sister’s grasp. “Go to wherever it is you’re disappearing. To wherever it is that is more important than here and now.”
Her sister reached for her hand again. “I promise I’ll—”
“From now on, only make promises you intend to keep. And be safe, Shazi. Please. Stay safe.”
Shahrzad paused, her features tight before she slipped into the shadows ahead without so much as a glance over her shoulder.
Irsa’s feet felt leaden as she made her way back through the encampment. Each step seemed involuntary. She dragged her toes, making patterns in the sand. When she looked up again, Irsa realized she’d stopped outside a tent that was not her own.
What was she doing?
Irsa stood outside Rahim al-Din Walad’s tent like a ninny absent purpose.
Absent reason.
Then she made a decision. And cleared her throat.
“Rahim?”
It sounded like a mouse’s call to arms.
Irsa stood taller and tried again.
“Rahim.”
Better. But still not exactly the roar of a lion.
She jumped and wheeled when his tent opened in a burst of lanky appendages.
“What’s wrong?” Rahim swiped at the sleep crusting his eyes.
What was wrong?
Why had Irsa even come here?
“Aisha told me a story,” she blurted without thought. “Do you want to hear it?”
“What?” He scrubbed at his disheveled scalp, his gaze incredulous. “Irsa, you can’t be serious,” he said. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Never mind.” The mouse returned, only to take its leave.
“Wait, wait.” Rahim reached for her elbow. “Tell me.”
Irsa stared up at him, lost in heavy lids and ink-black eyelashes. Had he always been so . . . tall? “She—she told me this desert was once a sea.” Irsa paused to steady her voice. “That it was filled with all kinds of fish that danced in shining waters and swam beneath a perfect sun. Until one day a disgruntled little fish decided he was tired of swimming and wanted to fly. So he went to the Sea Witch, who asked him to collect all the white flowers along the farthest reaches of the sea and bring them to her. From their petals she would fashion him wings. When the little fish brought the Sea Witch a woven nettle filled with white flowers, she cast a spell, and a black shadow bloomed across the sun. It was as though night had fallen for all time. The sea dried up, and all the beautiful fish began to disappear, save for the lone fish with his white-petal wings. When the sun finally reappeared, the little fish felt such guilt for what he had done that he flew into its scorching light, his wings bursting into a thousand pieces. Now when you look across the desert and along the shore, you can still see how he paid for his wings—the lovely white shells with the flowers etched onto their surfaces.” She finished the tale in a rush of words, all spoken in a single breath.
Rahim smiled at her patiently.
“I’m not a good storyteller,” Irsa whispered, the remnant of a tear sliding crookedly down her face.
He reached forward and caught it with his thumb.
Embarrassed, Irsa pulled back.
It was a mistake to have come here.
Wasn’t it?
A faint gust of wind blew around them, enveloping her in the scent of linseed oil and . . . oranges?
Rahim must have eaten oranges before falling asleep. How—wonderful.
“What’s wrong, Irsa-jan?”
“She keeps leaving me behind,” Irsa said softly. “Everyone keeps leaving me. And I’m worried about her. But—mostly—I’m alone.”
Without a word, Rahim sat before the tent and patted the sand beside him.
She took the spot, tucking her knees to her chest.
Rahim looked at her, his eyes unwavering.
“You’re not alone now.”
Smiling, Irsa rested her cheek against his shoulder.
And it was enough.
A PERFECT BALANCE
THE RAIN STARTED TO FALL WHEN THE GATES OF REY appeared along the horizon. Fat, unwieldy drops began to plink on Shahrzad’s shoulders and splat on the corners of the magic carpet.
She’d felt the storm’s threat as she soared beneath the gathering clouds. The metallic scent had woven through the wind, toying at the ends of her tresses—
Spurring her onward.
All the while sending her blood surging through her body.