ONE ELEMENT OF A STORM
JAHANDAR RODE THE DAPPLED MARE TO THE TOP of a hill overlooking Rey.
The sky above was dark and starless.
Perfect.
He took a deep breath and swung from the saddle. Then he reached into his leather satchel and withdrew the battered, ancient tome from its depths.
It pulsed at his touch.
With careful reverence, he knelt before a small grouping of rocks and set the volume on a flat surface. He lifted the black key from around his neck and inserted it into the rusted lock in the book’s center. As soon as he raised the cover, a slow-spreading silver light emanated from the pages.
He was thankful they no longer burned his hands.
Jahandar turned the well-worn vellum until he reached the spell. The words were already committed to memory, but the book’s magic assisted him in channeling the power for such a daunting task. He closed his eyes and let the silver light wash across his face and palms, imbuing him with soundless strength. Then he withdrew the dagger from its sheath and ran its tip across the newly formed scar on his left palm. As soon as his blood dripped onto the blade, the metal started to glow a white-hot blue.
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 doors 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.
“Help me move this chest aside.” She placed her palms against the dark
wood.
“Why?” Tariq countered.
“I don’t have time to explain!” She pursed her lips. “Do you want the guard to summon Jalal?”
Tariq’s eyes flashed, but he directed her back before shoving the chest aside with a grunt.
The hidden door Khalid had mentioned less than two weeks ago was visible now. Shahrzad grasped the brass ring and turned it three times to the right, two times to the left, and three more times to the right before using all her weight to push it open.
“My God,” Rahim said. “How did you know about this?”
“Khalid told me.” She tried to dismiss the strange look he gave her. “It’s dark, so tread with care.” Concealing her trepidation, she moved down the stairs leading to the passageway.
The trio hugged the walls of earth and stone as they scurried like vermin under the ground. At the end of the tunnel was a small ladder leading up to a wooden trapdoor. Shahrzad tried to open it, but it refused to budge. Rahim pressed both palms to the rough-hewn surface, and the door eventually swung aside with a whining creak.
They emerged in a shadowed corner of the palace stables.
And a boom of thunder rattled through the earth at their feet. The horses whinnied and thrashed about in their stalls.
“Pick one,” Shahrzad stated.
Rahim whistled. “Really? Because I’m told the madman has a black al- Khamsa from the first of the five. That horse is a prize in and of itself.”
Shahrzad whirled on him. “Not Ardeshir. You can take any horse from this
stable, but not that one.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because you are not taking his horse!” Her composure was hanging by a thread.
Rahim put up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “What’s wrong with you, Shazi?” Concern marred his features.
“He’s not even here.” Tariq spoke quietly from the shadows. “The horse is
not here. Nor is its master.”
“What?” Rahim turned to Tariq.
“Where is he, Shahrzad?” Tariq asked, striding toward her.
“On his way home, Tariq Imran al-Ziyad,” a male voice intoned from behind
them.
Jalal.
When the captain of the guard emerged from the darkness, he aimed a malicious grin at Tariq.
“I would count yourself lucky,” Jalal continued. “Because if Khalid found you with Shahrzad, death would be the least of your worries.”
• • •
Tariq reached for his bow, intent on his next course of action.
And Shahrzad launched herself in his path, clutching both his wrists.
“No!” Her face was awash in terror.
Tariq’s pain compounded further. Now she was even defending the boy- king’s family. Defending them against him.
Captain al-Khoury’s scimitar was unsheathed at his side. He was alone. It would take a single arrow to rid them of his nuisance.
When the boy-king’s arrogant cousin strode closer, Shahrzad turned to face him, still holding one of Tariq’s wrists in a death grip.
“Jalal,” she said, “I can explain.”
“There’s no need.”
“I’m not—”
“I told you; there’s no need.” He spoke simply. “I trust you.”
Her grip on Tariq’s wrist tightened impossibly further.
“It’s Nasir al-Ziyad’s son I don’t trust.” Captain al-Khoury raised his weapon,
its edge gleaming white.
“You can trust him.”
“No,” Tariq interrupted, “he can’t.”
Shahrzad glanced over her shoulder, her eyes laced with admonition.
“What are you doing here, Tariq Imran al-Ziyad?” Captain al-Khoury took a step forward, his sword at the ready.
“That should be obvious. I’m here for Shahrzad.”
Captain al-Khoury snorted. “Are you? And did you think you could just leave the city with the Calipha of Khorasan? With my cousin’s wife?”
“Shahrzad is not staying here. I am not leaving the girl I love in the arms of a monster.”
“That’s funny. One would think the girl had a choice in the matter.”
“You must be joking,” Rahim said in a gravelly tone. “Do you honestly think
she would choose a madman over Tariq?”
“Enough, Rahim,” Tariq cautioned.
“Ask her,” Captain al-Khoury said softly. “Ask her if she truly plans to leave Rey with you. Because I know something you are either too stupid or too blind
to see.”
“And what is that?” Rahim demanded.
“Murderer, monster, madman . . . Khalid may very well be all of those things.
But he’s also loved. By me and by my father. But, most of all, by Shazi. With her, he is as fiercely loved as he loves.”
Shahrzad’s body trembled in front of Tariq. Her hold on his wrist was flagging.
“Is he telling the truth?” Rahim asked, bristling at the captain of the guard’s familiarity.
She glanced once more over her shoulder, and her eyes shimmered with tears that threatened to course down her cheeks. “Tariq.”
No. He could not listen to her say it. Would never listen to her say such a thing.
He dropped the bow and drew her against him. “I know this isn’t you. I know something must have happened. But we can fix it. I can fix it. Come home with me. Every day we are apart is a day closer to death. A day wasted on what might have been. I can’t stomach it any longer. Come home.”
“But,” she whispered, “I am home.”
“Shazi!” Rahim’s face twisted in disbelief. “How can you say that?”
“I’m so sorry. I never, ever wanted to hurt either of you. It’s just that—”
“He killed Shiva!” Tariq exploded. “How can you want the boy who killed your best friend? How can you want a cold bastard who killed dozens of young girls and disappears on a lark while his city burns?”
“What did you say?” Shahrzad’s voice was deathly quiet. “The city is— burning?”
Tariq’s brow furrowed. “The lightning. It caught several buildings on fire.”
At this news, Shahrzad shoved Tariq aside and raced to the stable entrance.
She hauled back the wooden gate.
And collapsed at the sight.
Half the city was consumed in flames. Smoke billowed into the sky, backlit by flashes of silver lightning. The scent of burning ash mingled with a cloud of rosebushes nearby.
Captain al-Khoury sheathed his sword and crouched beside Shahrzad.
Her look of abject suffering stopped Tariq short.
“Jalal. What have we done?” Her face was unfaltering in its agony.
“No, delam. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault.” Captain al- Khoury placed each of his hands on either side of her face.
“You have to—” Shahrzad released a shaky breath. “We have to stop this.
Before anyone else dies.”
“I will do no such thing,” Captain al-Khoury replied.
“What have we done?” It was a pathetic, soul-searing entreaty.
Captain al-Khoury hoisted Shahrzad to her feet. “Nothing. You’ve done nothing.”
She shook her head, her features lost and bleak. “Khalid . . . will have to—”
“No. He would never.”
“But how can we live like this?” she cried. “I can’t. He can’t!”
Tariq could stand it no longer. “What are you talking about?”
“Tariq Imran al-Ziyad.” Captain al-Khoury continued studying Shahrzad
while he spoke. “I have a request.”
“The answer is no.”
“Don’t you want to hear it first?”
Tariq glowered at him in silence.
Captain al-Khoury twisted his head to meet Tariq’s gaze. “Take Shahrzad out
of Rey.”
“That was always my intention.”
Shahrzad’s eyes glistened. “Jalal—”
“Take her with you.” Captain al-Khoury gripped Shahrzad’s shoulders.
“No. I can’t leave.” She fought to set her quaking jaw. “I won’t leave. I’m not . . . afraid.”
Captain al-Khoury faced her. “Listen to me. For once. I beg you.”
Shahrzad began to protest, and a gust of hot air blew back at them, further dispersing the strange perfume of sweet roses and harsh smoke. She closed her eyes tight and pressed a hand to her chest.
“Tariq. Where is my father?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“Beyond the city,” he replied. “Waiting . . . atop a hill.”
Her eyes flew open, and she stared at Tariq with an eerie, newfound certainty.
“Take me to him.” Without waiting for a response, she brushed past Captain al-Khoury and walked into the stables to saddle a horse.
Tariq turned to watch as she disappeared into the darkness, her posture stiff and her stride perfunctory. He had only begun to process his confusion when Captain al-Khoury seized him by the arm.
Tariq knocked away the arrogant boy’s hand. “What—”
“Do you still love her?” He spoke in an urgent whisper.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Answer me, you fool. Do you?”
Tariq clenched his teeth, returning the captain of the Royal Guard’s fierce
glare.
“Always.”
“Then make sure she never comes back.”
