Fazim cursed violently as he sat back up, looking embarrassed as some laughed. A few people edged forward, not entirely sure of themselves. After all, I hadn’t laid a hand on Fazim. But we might be in for a fight all the same.

But then a cry came from the back. ‘He’s coming! Make way, he’s coming.’ The crowd split like a knife slicing cloth, clearing a straight path through the camp. Fazim scrambled out of the way and got to his feet, suddenly looking cowed.

I turned, heart pounding, waiting to see this he. The man in the mountain. The real monster of my childhood stories. The Djinni who had been chained up by his own brethren. The creature who burned people he deemed unworthy of being saved.

And there, standing at the other side of the camp, his hands raised either in blessing or in warning, was my Demdji brother, Noorsham.

Chapter 20

For a second our eyes locked across the rocky terrain, surprise as clear on his face as it must have been on mine. I felt Jin reach on instinct for the gun he hadn’t given away. My hand dashed to his, lacing our fingers together, drawing him away from his weapon carefully. Don’t, I willed him silently.

Noorsham started to move towards us.

He had flattened whole cities. He had burned people from the inside out. It didn’t cost him anything to do it. One wrong move from us and there was no telling what would happen.

But I’d stood across from him before when he’d refused to hurt me.

I’d been there when Jin hadn’t.

And he was my brother, after all. He wouldn’t harm me. I had to believe that.

As Noorsham passed through the crowd slowly, everyone around him bent like blades of grass under a strong wind.

‘You kneel,’ my aunt hissed, loud enough that it was meant to shame me. She was enjoying this, I realised.

But I ignored her. Instead, I took a step to meet him.

My aunt sucked in a breath. I knew she was thinking it would be the end of me. She was thinking I didn’t know what Noorsham could do. But I knew better than anyone. I unlaced my hand from Jin’s as I pulled away from him, crossing the path that had formed between the people of the camp and my brother, until we were only a few steps apart.

He looked different to when I had last seen him. His hair had grown out from the shorn cut that had been under the bronze helmet the Sultan had forced on him. And there was a small scar on his chin. He reached out a hand towards me. For just a second, even in rags instead of metal armour, he looked exactly as he had the moment before he burned Bahi alive, blazing with power and righteousness. He’d burned whole cities with that hand.

And then he clasped my face, and his palms were only as warm as flesh and blood, not immortal fire.

‘Amani.’ Noorsham’s smile could have lit up the world. ‘You’ve found your way home to me, sister.’

And he embraced me.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the stunned look on Aunt Farrah’s face just a little bit.

‘The Eye!’ someone called from the crowd behind Noorsham. ‘How can we trust them without looking at the Eye?’

‘We all had to go through the Eye,’ another person called, sounding angry.

‘The Eye,’ someone else called from far off. ‘The Eye.’ It was picked up like a chant among the assembled people. ‘The Eye. The Eye. The Eye.’ Soon everyone was chanting it.

‘The Eye!

The Eye!

The Eye!’

Noorsham turned in a slow circle. The words of the chant seemed to shake the mountain around us as he surveyed his people. Finally Noorsham moved, raising one hand ever so slightly in the air. It was as if he had flicked a switch. The whole of the mountain fell silent at his command.

Everyone waited with bated breath for him to speak.

‘To the Eye, then,’ he declared. An uproarious cheer swelled from the mountain. Suddenly everyone was moving at once, encircling us, pushing us forward like we were dust caught in a powerful current. I felt fingernails sink hard into my arm. It was Aunt Farrah, gripping me like she was my jailer, driving me forward. Making sure I wouldn’t get away from whatever this Eye was.

We didn’t have to go far.

Noorsham led us to a small indent in the mountain, where the ground sloped off. It was surrounded by prayer scarfs, making it brighter than desert ground ought to be, and the slope was strewn with bright cloths and dried flowers, the kind I’d seen in the Sultan’s gardens but that never grew here on the mountain.

And in the middle of it all was a small, jagged-looking piece of mirror, a shard roughly the shape of an eye. Everyone stopped at the edge of the slope, circling around to watch, but no one passed the line of prayer flags that marked the edge, except for Noorsham, who descended confidently.

He picked up the shard of glass reverently in his palms, lifting it high so that it caught the late afternoon sun.

The shard flashed blue, and I heard Jin suck in a breath next to me. I glanced at him curiously. ‘That looks like a nachseen,’ he said in a low voice.

‘A what?’ That didn’t sound like any language I had heard him speak.

‘A Gamanix invention.’ Like the paired compasses or Leyla’s horde of abominations. A synergy of machine and magic. ‘You can use them to read things in the eyes of others. Armies use them to interrogate spies.’

Noorsham’s blue eyes, so much like mine, turned to catch me. ‘Which one among you will come and face the Eye so I may see the truth of your intentions?’