The Wrath and the Dawn

  He stood and turned back toward the dappled mare. She tossed her mane and snorted, her deep brown eyes wide. Skittish. Jahandar hesitated for a heartbeat.

  But people were expecting great things from him.

  And he refused to disappoint them again.

  Gritting his teeth, he strode forward and sliced the dagger across the mare’s throat in a single, quick motion. Hot blood spewed onto his hands in a crimson torrent. The mare staggered to her knees as she struggled against the inevitable. Soon she keeled over; her breaths were shallow at first, then nonexistent.

  The blade’s edge was fire red, its center burning more brilliant than ever.

  Utterly fearsome in its greatness.

  He stepped back from the carcass and inhaled through his nose. Then he touched the dagger to the wound on his palm.

  The power raged through him, searing into his bones. From atop its throne of mottled stones, the book’s silver light pulsed brighter than a star.

  Jahandar gasped and dropped the blade as the power collected in his chest, visceral in its magnificence. The ground beneath his feet trembled.

  He began to laugh.

  Holding his bloodstained arms up to the sky, he muttered the ancient words and watched the clouds churn at his behest. Reveled as they bowed to his whims.

  The book’s pages fluttered. His wind-whipped beard coiled about his throat.

  There would never be cause to disappoint anyone ever again.

  Tonight, he would prove his worth, once and for all.

  He would rescue his daughter. And save a kingdom.

  For he was Jahandar the Great.

  Jahandar the All-Powerful.

  Jahandar . . . the King of Kings.

  • • •

  The first of the raindrops started to fall.

  And Tariq ignored his growing sense of disquiet.

  He stood shrouded in darkness, with his back against a wall of discolored mortar and stone. The palace gate was in the distance over his shoulder. It stretched high, constructed of solid wood bound in black iron. Armed sentries were positioned above and below, standing watch from torchlit battlements.

  He exhaled, trying to release the tension from his body.

  Trying to silence the doubt.

  “He really didn’t tell you how he plans to breach the gate?” Rahim tugged the hood of his brown rida’ lower onto his brow.

  “For the last time, he said he would create a diversion.”

  “And you trust him?”

  “No,” Tariq admitted. “But if he fails, I am no worse off than before.”

  “Actually, that’s false. You have yet to be accused of sedition by association.”

  “Jahandar-effendi would not betray us. In that, I trust him implicitly.”

  “I wish I possessed your particular brand of optimism,” Rahim grumbled.

  “And what brand would that be?”

  “Idiotic.”

  “Better idiotic than ineffectual.”

  “Better alive than dead.”

  “Run home, Rahim-jan,” Tariq said. “I can hear your mother calling.”

  “Insufferable ass.”

  Tariq grinned, but his chest felt tight.

  The hired soldiers standing in the shadows behind Rahim stayed silent, awaiting Tariq’s direction.

  If only he knew it himself.

  He sighed. This would likely prove to be a fool’s errand. After all, Jahandar al-Khayzuran did not have a history of reliability. Lost in his grief, he’d failed to be a father to his children following the death of their mother. Then he’d failed his king in his post as an advisor and been demoted for it. And he’d failed Shahrzad when he allowed her to risk her life for revenge.

  Nevertheless, Tariq had to try.

  The rain fell harder. It was beginning to drip in steady streams from the low-hanging eave above, seeping through his cloak onto his skin.

  Rahim edged away from the nearest trickle. “Do you—”

  A flash of light flew across the sky, followed by a boom of thunder.

  “One thing’s for certain; this storm is not helping matters,” Rahim said.

  Tariq leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

  Rahim cursed at the next crack of thunder. It was loud enough to rattle Tariq’s teeth.

  People were beginning to stir in the streets. Lamps were being lit in windows across the way.

  “Tariq!” Rahim warned sharply.

  Tariq spun his head in the direction of the palace and watched in horror as a bolt of lightning struck one of the marbled turrets. It severed the stone into flaming pieces that crashed to the ground with earthshaking thuds.

  The guards at the gates shouted in alarm.

  “Merciful God,” Rahim breathed.

  Another flash of white light struck nearby, catching a building on fire. The roar of the resounding thunder jolted Tariq to his very bones.

  Now rain pummeled from the heavens in a side-sweeping deluge.

  The first of the screams commenced when the next bolt of lightning tore through the roof of a home, sending charred matter and bits of burning rubble into the sky.

  The home promptly burst into flame.

  And the cries of panic grew louder.

  Another blistering flash struck the palace, cleaving more marble from its side. Tariq pushed off the wall.

  Rahim seized him by the shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not watching while that palace is razed. Shahrzad is inside.”

  Rahim yanked him back. “And your plan is what? To humbly request admittance?”

  “No,” Tariq shot back in vicious undertone. “My plan is—”

  A bolt of lightning struck the center of the gate, blinding him and driving the air from his chest in the same instant. Wood, iron, and ash mingled in the downpour.

  Chaos descended around them as the cries of fleeing, terrorstricken people merged with the storm’s cacophony. Soldiers spilled through the decimated gates into the city, trying to stanch the fear and maintain order.

  “Is this Jahandar-effendi’s idea of a diversion?” Rahim shouted in dismay.

  Tariq yanked back the hood of his rida’. “That’s impossible. Jahandar is not capable of this. He struggles to make a flower bloom.”

  “Then what in God’s name is this?” Rahim cringed as another beam of light slashed across the sky and struck the heart of the city.

  Fires were erupting everywhere.

  Tariq frowned and bit back his mounting premonitions.

  “I don’t know. But I do know I’m not leaving Shahrzad here.” He dragged his hood onto his head and removed the recurve bow from his back.

  • • •

  Shahrzad woke with a start at the first crack of thunder. Her heart lashed about in her chest as she strode to the wooden screens and peered between the carved slats.

  It’s just a storm.

  She walked back to her bed and sat on its edge. Then she began toying with the gold ring on her finger.

  Just a storm.

  A deafening crash and the sound of rending stone shot her to her feet once more.

  Something had struck the palace.

  When a clattering of footsteps amassed outside her chamber, Shahrzad grabbed the dagger next to her bed and crouched beside the platform.

  The doors swung open without preamble.

  “Shahrzad?” Jalal’s familiar voice broke through the silence.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m here.” She placed the dagger beside the dried rose on the stool and strode forward. Jalal stood in the center of her room with the Rajput and two other guards flanking him.

  “Are you hurt?” Jalal asked, his curly hair mussed and his light brown eyes darting every which way.

  “No.” She hesitated. “Why?”

  “The palace was struck by lightning. A turret and a portion of the gardens are on fire.”

  Her heart thudded in her ears.

  Shahrzad balled her hands into fists.
“Jalal, do you—”

  “It’s just a storm, Shazi.” He walked closer, full of reassurance. “I wouldn’t—”

  This time, the very walls of the palace shuddered under the impact. Her bed shifted, and a wooden chest crashed to the floor. The resulting wave of thunder rippled through Shahrzad’s body, making her worry all the more.

  She raced down the short hall to her handmaiden’s door and yanked it open.

  The chamber was empty.

  “Where is Despina?” she demanded as soon as she returned to her chamber.

  Jalal shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Stop it!” she said. “Where is she?”

  His eyebrows arched smoothly. Too smoothly. “I’m sure she’s fine. Probably just—”

  She grabbed his arm and hauled him closer. “Enough of these childish games. Please go find her. I’m worried sick, and I suspect you are as well.”

  He tensed, his features tight as his eyes flicked across her face. “Again, I’m sure—”

  Another boom of thunder cracked through the air, causing the marble at their feet to quake and the wooden screens to unhinge.

  “I order you to leave and go find her.”

  “And I would, my lady. But your order defies that of the king. I’d rather not explain to Khalid why—”

  “She’s pregnant!”

  He stiffened and grasped her by the shoulders. “What did you say?”

  I’m sorry, Despina.

  “She’s pregnant. Please go find her before something happens.”

  Jalal blinked hard before uttering a colorful string of oaths, many of them directed at Shahrzad.

  “Be angry with me later,” she insisted. “Just go find her. I’ll stay here.”

  With a wild-eyed glare, he proceeded to hurl commands over his shoulder as he strode toward the entrance.

  He stopped just before the threshold. “Shazi?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.” He disappeared down the corridor without waiting for a response.

  Shahrzad returned to the foot of her bed, while the Rajput and the two remaining guards stood watch. Again, she fidgeted with the ring on her right hand as the sound and light continued raging outside, making her skin feel hot and cold all at once.

  It’s raining. The curse has weakened.

  This is just a terrible storm. Nothing more.

  At the next earsplitting crack of thunder, the unhinged screens to the terrace flew open, exposing the chamber to the elements. Desperate for something to do, Shahrzad moved to latch them shut, but the Rajput held out his arm to stop her. With a brisk nod, he directed one of the guards toward the terrace.

  Before the guard had a chance to shutter the screens, he was struck in the chest by an arrow. He staggered to his knees and fell to the floor.

  The Rajput seized Shahrzad by the wrist and hauled her behind him. He withdrew his talwar from its scabbard with the shrill grate of metal on metal.

  Two hooded silhouettes materialized from the terrace.

  It took Shahrzad only a moment to recognize the one clutching a recurve bow.

  “No!” she cried as Tariq nocked another arrow and fired it at the Rajput. Shahrzad yanked her bodyguard back, and the arrow embedded in his shoulder, just above its intended target. The Rajput did not even flinch.

  The other soldier unsheathed his scimitar, and Tariq took him down with a single shot. Then he fitted an arrow to the string and raised it beside his ear, continuing his slow stalk forward.

  The Rajput grunted in fury and flourished his weapon.

  “Step aside,” Tariq demanded in a harsh voice.

  Instead, the Rajput eased low into a fighting stance.

  “Stop it!” Shahrzad’s chest rose and fell in a panic.

  Another clap of thunder shook the walls of the palace.

  “This is your last chance.” Tariq’s silver eyes shone in the darkness.

  The Rajput laughed with mirthless humor. He raised his sword across his body and stepped toward Tariq.

  “Vikram!” Shahrzad pleaded. “Don’t do this!”

  The Rajput ignored her and leveled the talwar at Tariq, preparing to attack.

  Tariq loosed the arrow without hesitation. It struck the Rajput in the center of the chest.

  “Tariq!” Shahrzad screamed. “Please!”

  The Rajput lurched around, his features twisted in disbelief.

  Then Tariq brought the wood of his bow down hard across the back of the Rajput’s head, and he collapsed to the floor.

  Shahrzad stifled a sob.

  Tariq regarded her with grim wariness. “Shahrzad—”

  “How could you?” It was a choked whisper.

  His eyebrows flattened. “He would have killed me.”

  He was right. But she did not know what to say to her past for destroying all hope of a future.

  “Shazi?” Rahim’s tone was quiet, his head tilted askew.

  “What are you doing here?” Shahrzad’s eyes were fixed on her first love.

  “I came to take you home,” Tariq said.

  “You didn’t need to come. I—”

  His gaze hardened. “I’m not leaving without you.”

  A flash of lightning struck close by, and a dark fissure erupted on the ceiling, exacerbated by the ensuing thunder.

  “This entire palace is about to fall down around our heads,” Rahim announced. “We have to get out of here and find Jahandar-effendi.”

  “Baba?” Shahrzad’s forehead creased. “Why is my father here?”

  Rahim rubbed his palm across the back of his neck. “It’s a long story.”

  A barrage of footsteps echoed in the corridor outside her chamber, and Tariq snatched another arrow from his quiver before taking position between her and the doors. He stood at the ready until the sounds faded away.

  “Let’s go,” Rahim directed.

  Shahrzad took a deep breath. “Tariq—”

  “I’m not leaving without you!” He spun around and pulled her against him. “This is not your fight! It never should have been your fight!”

  At the next roar of thunder, a piece of the ceiling crashed to the floor. It nearly struck Rahim.

  “We’re leaving.” Tariq held her tight. “Now.”

  She nodded. Once they were safe beyond the palace walls, she would gather the courage to tell him why she couldn’t leave.

  Why she didn’t want to leave.

  He clasped her hand in his and began striding to the doors.

  “Wait!” Shahrzad pulled free and ran to her wardrobe to remove her cloak and Musa-effendi’s rug, for she did not want it to succumb to a fire. She threw the cloak around her shoulders and whirled back toward the stool beside her bed to retrieve Khalid’s note and her dagger.

  At the sight of the now lifeless, pale purple rose, a sudden flicker of remembrance washed across her vision . . . of another rose from her not-so-distant past, coaxed to its tragic demise. Of a well-intentioned gift, falling to pieces, wilting across a marbled floor.

  The storm hissed and crackled behind her.

  It’s not possible. Baba . . . couldn’t.

  She squeezed her eyelids shut for a moment. Then she placed the note and the dagger in the folds of her cloak and hurried toward the doors.

  As Tariq took hold of a handle, Shahrzad placed her hand on his forearm. “How were you planning to make it outside undetected?”

  “Carefully.”

  She exhaled in a huff. Elbowing him aside, she peered through a crack in the door.

  “Stay quiet and follow me.” She stepped into the darkened hallway.

  With her head down, Shahrzad made her way through the corridors of the palace, hoping no one would notice her new bodyguards.

  Hoping they did not cross paths with Jalal.

  They traversed another series of hallways before turning abruptly down a smaller corridor with an arched ceiling of distinct white marble.

  Her heart sank.

  Standing before the doo
rs to Khalid’s chamber was a lone guard. He straightened as she approached, but his eyes traveled to her alleged bodyguards and narrowed noticeably.

  “My lady,” he began with a bow. “How can I help you?”

  She smiled warmly at him. “I just wanted to return this parcel to the caliph’s chamber.” She held up the bundle containing the magic carpet.

  “I’d be pleased to assist you. If you would leave the parcel with me—”

  Shahrzad shook her head. “I’d rather replace it myself.”

  “Of course.” He nodded, stepping aside.

  When Tariq and Rahim moved to accompany her, he held up his hand.

  “I’m sorry, my lady, but I cannot allow them entry.”

  “You can if I say so.” Her smile turned sharp.

  “Again, I’m sorry, my lady, but only you and Captain al-Khoury are allowed in the caliph’s chamber in his absence.”

  “I believe tonight is a night for exceptions.” Shahrzad grasped a bronze handle.

  “My lady!” He reached for her arm.

  She glared up at him. “Are you going to stop me, then? Because you’ll have to use force. I believe you know what happened to the last soldier who touched me against my will. But, by all means, you are welcome to try. I’m certain my husband will be thrilled to learn of this encounter. What was your name again?”

  The guard paled. “My lady Shahrzad!”

  “That is not your name,” she scoffed. “Now, if you value life and limb, you will let us pass.”

  With a clamoring heart, she took hold of the handle once more and pulled the door open.

  Her pulse continued thrashing about as Tariq and Rahim entered Khalid’s antechamber. They proceeded without pause through the entrance to his room. It was not until the doors thudded shut behind them that she finally permitted herself to take an unencumbered breath.

  Rahim’s laugh was as dry as sand. “You are quite the calipha.” He leaned a lanky arm against an alabaster wall.

  She ignored him and walked toward the black chest.

  “I must say, the murdering madman has an impressive chamber.” Rahim’s dark blue eyes drifted across the onyx and marble. “For a soulless monster.”

  Shahrzad bit back her retort with effort. She could feel Tariq watching her.