I hated the sea.
We set sail the next morning, Haytham supplying us with one of the ships from his reclaimed city and a crew to man it.
Last time I’d been on a ship, I’d been drugged and a prisoner on the way to the palace. It turned out that not being shackled wasn’t much better. The deck of the ship was never steady, and after I lost sight of land, a strange panic set in. Ahmed found me the first night below deck with my head in a bucket. He sat patiently next to me, running a hand gently up and down my spine as I retched up the contents of my stomach.
I waited until I was sure I had nothing left before speaking to him. Even if I didn’t quite dare lift my head from the safety of the bucket.
‘How did you find me?’ My mouth tasted like bile.
‘Sam sold you out,’ he said as I slowly lifted my head. Ahmed handed me a skin of water. I took it with shaky hands and rinsed out my mouth, spitting into the bucket. ‘He said he hadn’t seen you eat anything today.’
‘Should I be flattered he tore his eyes off Shazad long enough to notice anyone else?’ I peeled a strand of my still-too-short hair away from my face.
‘Here.’ He handed me a flat green leaf. ‘Chew on it. It’ll settle your stomach. I got some from the Holy Father in Tiamat. I thought we might need it. It took me a while to find my sea legs, too, back when Jin and I first set off seafaring.’
Tentatively, I put the thing in my mouth. It didn’t taste bad – sweet and cool as it hit my tongue. I chewed slowly. Ahmed watched as I tried to get my feet under me.
‘Amani, I need to ask you something.’ If Ahmed had more guile, I might’ve thought he’d deliberately come looking for me when I was shaky and vulnerable. But it was Ahmed. ‘After this is all over, I’m not going to take the throne.’
That got my attention. ‘What?’
‘At least not the way my father took it,’ Ahmed hurried on before I could start berating him. ‘Not by force, without giving the people a choice in who governs them. You were right what you said in Sazi. I ought to listen to the people who know this desert. I’m going to hold a vote. Like they do in the Ionian republics, to let the people choose their ruler. Any man or woman who thinks they would make a better ruler than me can put their name forward, and if the people agree they would be better than me, they can choose that person instead.’
I stared back at him, trying to take this all in. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because –’ Ahmed rubbed at the scar on his forehead thoughtfully; it was a habit of his when he was thinking – ‘I want to know what you think.’
‘Why?’ I realised I was speaking mostly in single words. I didn’t sound smart enough to lace up my own boots, let alone advise a ruler on this. But I had told him back in Sazi that he didn’t know everything. That he ought to listen to me.
‘Amani, you know this country better than anyone else. Do you think it will work?’
I thought about it. ‘What would you do about the Sultim trials? They’ve been used to determine the next ruler since the beginning. It’s a hard tradition to break.’
‘I know that. But do you think I can?’
The Sultan had said something to me the night of Auranzeb, with his firstborn’s blood still on his hands. He’d said that the world was changing. That the time of immortals and magic was ending. That they should not be allowed to rule our lives any more – we should rule theirs. The Sultan was a cruel, self-serving man. But I didn’t know that he was wrong when he said that. Maybe it was time to change. Maybe the desert was ready to choose its own ruler.
‘Yes.’ I nodded slowly, my head still swimming a little. ‘I think it might work.’ Ahmed’s shoulders sagged in relief, and I realised he’d been nervous about what I would say. He pressed his knuckle into the spot on his forehead.
I reached up to his hairline, moving one of the dark curls away from the spot he’d been worrying at. ‘Where did you get that?’ I asked before I could stop myself. I knew most of the scars on Jin’s body. Ahmed didn’t have quite so many. But he had some.
‘Oh.’ Ahmed laughed. ‘It was my fault. It was when Jin and I were very young, our first year on board the Black Seagull. I was learning to plot courses while Jin spent most of his time clambering up and down the rigging. I made a mistake one day. We sailed into a storm that we should have been able to avoid. I could’ve shipwrecked us. As it was, I was lucky – I just split my head open on the deck when we nearly capsized. I thought I was going to die that day.’
‘Are you afraid?’ I asked, dropping my hand. ‘Of dying?’ I felt the memory of Zaahir’s kiss tingling on my lips.
‘I don’t know.’ He considered. If anyone had asked me the same question, my answer would have been quick and certain. Yes, terrified. Did that make me selfish and cowardly? ‘I’ve seen a lot of the world, a lot of what people believe about death, and I don’t entirely know what I believe waits for us after. But I do fear things in this life. Not dying, but losing. That I’ll have been the one to lead us into the monster’s mouth, promising it was a cave of riches. That others will die, and that those who have already died for me will have done so for nothing. That everything that has happened and everything I have done will have become entirely insignificant and forgotten.’
But then we were all more selfish than Ahmed. That was why he led us. And he was right. We weren’t in this for ourselves. For this life. We were in it for what we could make for the future. The rest of us could die for this. But Ahmed needed to live.
If I used Zaahir’s kiss for Bilal, Ahmed might still fall at the eleventh hour. He might die leading us to victory. But I was frightened that if I didn’t use Zaahir’s kiss for Bilal, I’d be far too tempted to give it to Jin instead.
Because I would always be more selfish than Ahmed.
*
It took us three days of sailing to reach the northern edge of Miraji, and another two before we were close to port again. As we sailed towards Ghasab, we passed near enough to the coast that the shadow of the middle mountains fell over the ship. Everyone came on deck to watch as we sailed by, crossing the frontier from eastern Miraji to west, a long way from where we’d crossed over the other way.
We were close.
So close to getting Rahim to his army, to snatching them away from Bilal and marching them on Izman.
I’d only been to the port city of Ghasab once – twice if you counted the time I was dragged through it unconscious by my aunt. But I hadn’t exactly got to see much of it then.
Ahmed sent the twins out ahead to report back the day before we would dock. It might be a few days to Iliaz on foot but it was only a few short hours as the shape-shifting falcons flew. They were back before sundown. Maz landed on the crow’s nest and scrambled down the mast in the shape of a monkey, while Izz misjudged his landing and catapulted into a roll that only didn’t break his neck because he became a snake at the last second before turning into a very naked boy at our feet.
Izz reached us first. ‘There’s an army,’ he said breathlessly, yet with a wide-eyed look that couldn’t quite hide his exhilaration at beating Maz to us.
‘Were you two racing?’ Shazad asked, tossing Izz a shirt, which he tied around his middle, for our sake.
Izz beamed momentarily. ‘I won.’
‘I can see that,’ Shazad said, handing a pair of trousers to a disgruntled-looking Maz, as he reached the bottom of the mast and changed back to a boy. ‘What’s this about an army?’
‘Iliaz,’ Maz said, fastening his trousers. ‘There’s an army camped at the western base of the mountains, by the look of it.’
‘There are blue flags,’ Izz added.
‘The Gallan,’ I said, feeling my blood go cold. ‘What are they doing here?’ I’d found my seasickness was better if I stayed on deck, where the air was less stale. And the plants Ahmed had given me had helped some. I’d taken to sleeping above deck, falling asleep under the stars. Jin was usually there at night, too, manning this monstrous ship I didn’t understand or like with the whole of his attention.
I’d been avoiding him ever since Zaahir had kissed me, since any temptation to kiss him would be a decision bigger than I was ready to make right now.
‘Probably running a supply route to Izman through the mountains.’ Rahim crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against one of the huge masts. ‘It’s what I would do if I were laying siege to the city. You’d think they’d have the decency to stay out of our country while we fight this out among ourselves.’
‘How many?’ Shazad asked, growing grave now. She checked around quickly, making sure no one else on board was close enough to hear.
Izz and Maz traded sheepish looks. Izz scratched his blue hair, making it stick up at the back as he faced us. ‘A lot?’ he guessed.
‘I’d say at least twice that many.’ Maz nodded along seriously.
‘So too many to fight outright,’ Jin interpreted for the rest of us.
‘Any way we can walk through under an illusion?’ Shazad turned to our Demdji princess.
‘I don’t think I can hide this many people.’ Delila chewed her lip as she glanced around. ‘Six people is one thing, but we’re close to three hundred now.’
The wind off the water picked up, riffling its fingers through all of our hair, dashing a few stray strands over our general’s face, deep in thought.
‘We could fly over them.’ Ahmed was pressing that spot on his hairline again.
‘Only in small numbers, though,’ Jin pointed out, leaning on the helm as we moved gently through the water. I stared out across the narrow band of sparkling blue ocean. We had finished passing the mountain now. The coast wasn’t green fields and orchards of sweet fruits any more. It was blistering golden sand. It was desert. My desert.
‘It would take too long,’ Rahim agreed for once. ‘And it’s a risk to split everyone up.’
‘Rahim, you know these mountains; is there a way around?’ Shazad asked.
I found myself reaching for the sand almost without noticing it. The pain in my ribs answered, but so did the desert, shifting as I drummed my fingers against my side. I had the beginning of an idea. I just couldn’t tell whether it was the kind that would get us all killed or not.
‘The mountain is well defended,’ Rahim was saying. ‘No roads, only paths. There is one way we could try, but we’d lose at least a week and—’
‘What if we go through?’ I interrupted Rahim. ‘Not around, not over, but –’ I made a small forwards motion with my hand, like it was a knife cutting through silk, and even this far away, I felt the sand shift, like a current through water – ‘through.’ The wheels in my mind were still turning, wondering if we could really do this or if I was losing my mind.
‘No.’ Ahmed was already shaking his head. ‘You heard Shazad: a fair fight would be suicide with our numbers, and I won’t risk it.’
But Shazad knew me well enough to know that even I wasn’t reckless enough to suggest fighting our way through. She was watching me, mind turning quickly, trying to see what I was thinking. ‘You’re not talking about a fight, are you?’
‘Not a fair one, at least.’ I could feel the excitement bubbling up. ‘What if we sailed through?’ There was a moment of complete silence as everyone stared at me like I was insane. Everyone except Shazad, who understood instantly. Jin caught up with her a moment later.
‘So, just to be clear.’ Jin leaned forwards so that I was pinned under his gaze. He was speaking slowly. If I knew him any less well, I might’ve thought he was chastising me. But I did know him. He had that smile on his face. Like we were about to get ourselves in real trouble and he wouldn’t have it any other way. ‘You’re suggesting sailing a ship through the sand with your Demdji gift?’
‘You really think that will work?’ Shazad asked.
‘The sand runs deep enough,’ I said. I could feel the rush of being back in the desert. ‘I think I can try.’
‘You know a ship isn’t flat, don’t you?’ Jin said, but that spark was still there. ‘You’ll have to keep it balanced.’
‘Without the full force of your powers?’ Ahmed asked. ‘Amani, it’s a risk.’
They didn’t trust me. Not entirely. I could see the doubt hanging on every single one of their faces as they looked at me. That I wasn’t strong enough. They thought I was too confident. But if my power was draining out of me and my days were numbered, then I might as well use the dregs of it to do something big. I might as well pour it all out of me before I died.
‘Everything we do is a risk,’ I said. ‘And we’ve got a bigger fight than this one waiting for us in Izman. I don’t want to lose any more time.’
‘You’re sure you’re up to this, Bandit?’ Jin tightened his hands on the wheel.
I raised my shoulder. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’
‘We could all die,’ Rahim answered.
‘So, what else is new?’ I asked.
I watched the circle of people around me as the idea that we might actually do this settled on us, one by one. What it might mean. That it might even be possible.
‘It’d be one hell of a battering ram,’ Shazad admitted.
‘If Amani can do this—’ Rahim started.
‘She can,’ Jin said, eyes on me. He was on my side, along with Shazad. We only needed one more person. Everyone looked at Ahmed. He was unreadable. A family trait he shared with his father. His head tilted forwards in thought for a long moment.
I was about to say something else, to keep fighting for it, keep making a case that I could do this, when he lifted his head. And the Rebel Prince had slipped away. He didn’t look like his father, I realised, he finally looked like a Sultan.
And he nodded.