THE BURNING BANYAN TREE

SHAHRZAD LEANED AGAINST THE COLD STONE WALL. A constant trickle of murky water passed by her slippered foot. The heavy chains around her wrists and ankles clinked with the smallest of movements.

She did not know how much time had passed.

Days perhaps.

It was impossible to tell, as not even a sliver of light seeped into the space.

The water in the filthy cup left by the grate was brackish. Even the smell of it turned her stomach. The bread beside it was stale and dry. She ate only enough to conserve her strength.

Her father had come to visit her twice. To beg her to apologize.

To see reason. To work alongside the sultan to achieve a lasting peace.

To surrender.

Both times, Shahrzad had turned her back on him. Had willed herself smaller, wishing she could disappear for just a moment, so she would not have to face him.

So she would not have to admit how he’d betrayed all she held dear.

Shahrzad knew she had betrayed her father by stealing his book, but a book was not the same thing as a life. Not the same thing as a future.

And with this book her father had taken so many lives that night in Rey. So many futures.

Now Shahrzad remained in near darkness. The single torch two cells over rarely wavered light in her direction.

At first, the guards had come to check on her regularly. To toy with her. To threaten her. To hurl intimations of unforgivable acts her way.

They’d pushed her. Shoved her face into the muck. Twisted her arms behind her back. Called her worse names than Shahrzad had heard screamed at wild animals.

She had believed their threats at first. Had steeled herself for their mistreatment. Had waited in the soggy gloom, shivering and alert . . . promising she would not cry.

Would not dare give them the satisfaction.

But beyond the first guard’s cutting of her hair and the occasional crush of her cheek against muck, they did not press further. They did not inflict lasting harm on her.

Something stayed their hands.

Shahrzad was not fool enough to think it was respect. No, with men such as these, it was never respect.

Something was not right beyond these walls. And it was clear the guards were afraid of that something.

These thoughts gave her a measure of comfort. For once, they made her see the benefits of an unfavorable reputation.

A reputation forged in blood and fury.

Let them fear what is to come. Let them know what it is to cower in the darkness, uncertain of their future.

Let them be afraid of Khorasan and its king.

For Khalid would tear them limb from limb once he breached the city walls.

Once he learned Shahrzad was here.

And when would that be?

Again she was left to think about the perils of wanting too much. But little was served from wanting what she could not control. The past few weeks had taught her that.

Shahrzad swallowed drily as she pulled her knees in to her chest. Each passing hour took with it more of her resolve, and she could not allow her will to fade along with her strength. Refused to allow it.

She was a tree being lashed about in a storm. She would not break.

Never.

She had to find Irsa. And get far away from this palace.

At least now the soldiers were leaving her be. They had not come to harass her for quite some time.

At least now she was alone.

Shahrzad wrapped her arms around her legs. The sound of her wet sniffle seemed to leap from wall to wall. The torch beyond her cell flickered out.

Leaving her in utter darkness.

“You have not lost hope?” A gruff voice resonated from just outside the bars.

Shahrzad said nothing. She was not certain if it was another prisoner or a guard still trying to toy with her. Still trying to break her.

“You. Girl. Are you still alive?” the voice repeated in a dry rasp. It sounded like a pile of dead leaves gusting across granite pavestones.

Again, she said nothing.

I will not break. Ever.

“Girl? Are you alive?”

She sighed, loud and long. “I am, you ornery bastard. What of it?”

“Good.” The voice coughed. Whoever it was, was old, bordering on sickly. “I’ve watched you these last four days. You’ve got courage.”

“I suppose you think I should be flattered?”

Another cough. “No.”

“Then what do you want?”

A pause. “I don’t know yet.”

“Then leave me be.”

“Have you something better to do?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.” The strange old man waited for a spell. “You remind me of something.”

Shahrzad shifted as she threw her eyes to the ceiling of her cell, her chains clanking around her. “And what is that?”

“The banyan tree I used to hide in as a boy.”

Despite everything, Shahrzad’s interest was piqued, for he was unlike any of the soldiers who had come to torment her thus far. “Banyan tree?”

The rustling sound from beyond the darkness made Shahrzad think her strange visitor had settled in for a while. He cleared his throat. “When I made mischief as a child, I would run to the hollow of a very old banyan tree on the edge of the jungle and hide within it before my father could punish me.”

“And why do I remind you of this tree?”

“Because these trees destroy everything around them over time.”

Shahrzad let out an unamused chuff. “Thank you for the lovely story, old man.”

He coughed a low chortle. “I meant it as a compliment.”

“Forgive me for not seeing it as such.”

“Where I come from, we are raised to see things in a never-ending cycle. I saw that cycle in the life of the banyan tree. It grows big and tall and wide while providing shelter to those who seek it. Over time, it can grow too big for itself, destroying everything around it. But I’ve also watched it slowly feed its way to new life. Provide roots for the new trees. Seeds for the new flowers. You are a banyan tree because in you I see this story. The beginning and the end of all things. The hope for something to grow, even in shadow.”

Shahrzad’s pulse started to rise.

The old man’s voice had begun to deepen as he spoke. Had begun to lose some of its raspiness. Had begun to roll like distant thunder.

“Be the beginning and the end, Shahrzad al-Khayzuran.” A flare of light burst to life across the way. “Be stronger than everything around you.”

The face of the Rajput shone bright in the flickering flame.

“Make all our many sacrifices worth it.”