The Fire Wish (18 page)

I smacked my nose into the boulder. I’d found it! I squeezed Yashar’s arm tighter and brought him around to the other side. The sand was still blowing, still strong and biting, but we could breathe there.

Yashar pulled off his outer robe and wrapped it around us, and together we huddled, crouched against the storm. It wasn’t till the roaring stopped that I heard Yashar’s cries.

The sand had ripped his eyes to pieces.

When the storm passed, I found the camel—she was unhurt—and rode her home with Yashar clinging to my back, crying in my ear.

Now, in the dark tunnel, I could almost hear his whimpers. They were like the echoes of spirits, slipping along the damp stone walls. I had to push on. I had to get back to Yashar.

I held the lamp out and reached for the walls with my other hand. I walked with trepidation at first. And then I was enchanted. Walking in nothingness, surrounded by stone and the light of the lamp—it was like being inside a golden bubble of fire.

I picked up speed and felt cool, moist air on my face. And then I stepped down. It was just half a step, but it was jarring. The tunnel sloped downhill and then back up again. Going up was good, since I was supposed to be heading to the surface. I pressed on, careful of the floor. The tunnel was big enough for me to walk upright, but not so big that it felt like another cavern.

Eventually, I lost track of time. I could sense my heartbeat, my throat when it became thirsty, the sensation of the cool water I drank hitting my stomach, and the slight warmth of the flame in the lamp. The air smelled astringent, with the tang of the lamp oil surrounding me most thickly.

The tunnel divided into three parts. I stopped. Each opening had the same darkness, the same air, the same gray rock walls. My pulse quickened. How would I know which one to take? I had to make the correct choice. I had to, or I’d be lost in the earth. I closed my eyes and shut off all sensations from outside my body, trying to feel which was the right one. If there was a hint of a breeze, I’d know.

No matter which way the side tunnels went, the one in the
middle was wider and seemed like the way to go. How could it go anywhere but up? I checked it out one last time and then entered it, holding the lamp before me.

The tunnel sloped upward. I drank once more from my flask, just a sip. And then the tunnel split into two. I had to feel my way forward, hoping that somehow, deep within myself, I’d make the right choice.

I went left because when I headed to the right, a coldness struck me in the very pit of my stomach. Nothing could make me go that way. The left tunnel had an inscription on the wall, just inside it, that gave me greater confidence. It was written in jinni, but it had to mean I was going the right way. And I had made the proper choice earlier too.

Breathing deeply, I picked up my pace. My legs were growing tired, but I would not rest until I saw the sun. Or the stars, at least.

Eventually, I got hungry and tired. The darkness before and behind me was suffocating. I was in the middle of the earth, and it was the most frightening thing in the world.

I sat down with my back against the tunnel wall and rested, cursing myself for not bringing anything to eat. The wall was rougher than I’d expected. Just as I was about to rise, the lamp started smoking. The flame was half the size it had been, and the color changed from gold to pale blue.

If the light went out … I jumped up and ran, cradling the tiny flame. But I tripped over a stone and slammed into the ground. The lamp arced in the air. As it did, I got a glimpse of the area around me. A cavern half as big as the jinni one
swelled up and around. The rocky ground slipped down like a stone waterfall before disappearing into the earth. The lamp crashed halfway down on the stone and cracked.

My eyes were open but I couldn’t see anything. I blinked, hoping something would happen. Maybe I would see a crack in the ceiling above, a bit of light filtering down. But there was only darkness, as thick as the earth itself. I instantly thought of Yashar and felt sick. This was what his life had been like every day since he’d gone blind.

My lip stung and throbbed, filling my mouth with the metallic taste of blood. I tore off my scarf and pressed it against my face as I sat up. Then I felt for the walls, panicking. I crawled around, desperate to find something to hold on to, but there was nothing but air. Somewhere beyond my arms were the walls, and not far away was where the ground fell in a waterfall of stone.

“No!” My voice echoed, sounding more frightened than it should have. “This cannot happen.” Talking hurt my jaw, so I cradled it and cried angry tears.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

I WAS DREAMING of the Palace Lamp. It floated in the middle of my room, screaming out that I wasn’t Zayele, that I wasn’t human, that I was going to kill the prince. All the caliph’s men came running into the harem and broke down my door. I was unable to move a muscle while they ran across the floor and impaled me with every weapon in the armory.

When I woke, I was shivering. I had kicked off the blanket, and it was curled into my arms like a dead mouse. The first rays of sunlight were pressing on the patio curtain, lighting up a corner of the room. It was the second day.

Everyone would know I was missing by now. I rubbed at my mark, but it was hidden by the thick layer of henna Rahela had put over it. The only thing I could do now was find a way out. But first, I had to find something worth coming here for. I had to learn the orb’s purpose.

I sat up, and Rahela stretched. “You’re awake?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, standing up and going to the chest of clothing.

“You don’t have to dress so soon.”

“I do, I think,” I said. I sifted through the gowns, but nothing was right. They were either too delicate or too long.

“I put up the peach-colored one last night for you, after you fell asleep.” She pointed at the gown draped over a cushion. It flowed onto the floor and reached out for the encroaching sunbeam. It was one of the more delicate gowns.

“But …”

“But what? Jinn don’t wear that color?” she snapped.

“No. I mean, yes. I just don’t think it’s right for me.” I ran my hand over the silk. Where had Zayele’s tribe come across this fabric? My mother would die for it.

“You’re a princess, remember,
Zayele
? If you act like one, you won’t harm the gown.” She was out of her bed now, riffling through her own stack of gowns. She yanked out a brown shift. “Zayele loved that peach dress.”

“It’s beautiful.” But it wasn’t what I had in mind for today. I was going to find a way out. And the dress wasn’t something anyone could easily escape in. Rahela pulled her dress over her head with one swoosh and then took mine and shook it.

“Put up your arms.” When I didn’t move immediately, she gave me a look that reminded me of Faisal when he caught me daydreaming. I put up my arms and she slipped the dress on. It was as delicate as the rose I’d picked the day before. Janna’s rose. I shook away her attempt to do my hair and ran my fingers through it. In a minute, I had it braided as usual, but without gems. We had buried them in a potted plant the night before, afraid they’d make the servants suspicious.

Rahela opened our door to peek and then shut it quickly. “They are coming with trays of food. That’s good, because I don’t feel like eating my breakfast out there.”

“You’d rather eat with me than with them?” I asked. She snorted softly and then opened the door again just as a servant was about to knock. Two women carried a tray laden with fruit and yogurt. Once they set it down, they left without saying a word.

“They’re not all bad, but a few of them are ignorant and superior. I don’t want to stomach that first thing in the morning, do you?”

“No.”

Rahela sat down. “You’re a jinni, so of course I don’t trust you,” she said, spooning the yogurt onto her plate. “But I can’t help liking you. So far, you’ve done nothing nearly as fearsome as what I’d been led to believe a jinni would do.” She motioned for me to sit across from her. “You didn’t choose this. She did, and she left me behind with a jinni who looks—well, like her. And you turned out to be not that unusual. You aren’t disappearing into smoke, I mean. You haven’t killed me, or taken my soul, or any of that.”

I sat down and tried to copy the way she mixed the fruit with the yogurt. “This war between us … it isn’t personal. We are only trying to survive.”

“I don’t want to talk about the war. That’s outside of this room. Tell me what you can do about this wish Zayele made.”

I looked down at the spoon for a long time before I spoke. “I’m trapped. Last night, I tried to go home, but this wish burns. It’s not a normal wish. And no one can rescue me, because I’m
the only one who can get through the jinni wards.” I was about to mention the first two times I saw Kamal, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to do. She wasn’t in the Corps. She wasn’t even jinni.

“I’m trapped too, you know.” She tasted the yogurt. “I can’t tell them who you are, or they’ll blame our tribe. They’ll say it was some sort of trick. So I’m a traitor instead.”

I took a bite of yogurt. It was slippery, sour, and delicious. “But you’re keeping the honor of your tribe.”

“My tribe, my family, over the caliphate. Over other
humans.
What does that say about me?” Rahela pushed the food aside and rubbed her temples. “You know, Zayele would have loved it here, if she’d given it a chance. I was looking forward to living here with her. I wanted to be part of a harem, where I could blend in and be safe. It was going to be far better than staying in Zab. For both of us. She was just so worried about Yashar.”

“Who?”

“Her brother. She didn’t want to leave him behind. In a way, she’s as much a child as he is.”

“And they expect her to have children now? With the prince?” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I blushed. “I couldn’t imagine having a child now.”

Rahela laughed and her cynical grin returned. It was as if she hadn’t opened up about herself. “If you cannot find a way out, you’ll have to get over that. They expect Zayele to provide a child within a year of getting married, I’m sure.”

“But I’m only fifteen and a half.”

She had been tying on a scarf but stopped. “When were you born?”

“Fifteen years ago.”

“When during the year?” she asked. “What season?”

“We don’t have seasons, but—”

“Of course you don’t.” She was grinning, like this was some sort of game.

“Six months ago. That season.”

“Interesting,” she said, then finished with her scarf. Before I could ask what she meant, the door slid open, and the girl who had first let us into the harem bowed.

“Prince Kamal would like you to meet with him in the garden.”

Rahela stood. “We’ll be ready in a moment.”

We left behind the food on the table, the unmade beds, and Rahela’s musings.

MY HEAD ACHED like I’d been kicked by a camel, and my lip stung where it had broken open. I kept closing and opening my eyes, hoping I would see something. Hoping the blackness would retreat. But all I could sense was a constant roaring. It wasn’t rain. Not in a cave. And it couldn’t be in my mind.

I felt around for the edges of the tunnel, inching my fingers across the gritty floor. The ground sloped. This must have been the way the lantern fell. Slowly, I reached forward and found the edge of the floor where it dropped off into nothingness. I lay on my stomach and reached down, finding a flat place only a foot below. Beneath that another, and yet another. It was a staircase of stone. I slid down feetfirst into the never-ending night.

Anything could have been creeping on me. I shivered, thinking of crawling things with too many legs climbing into my hair, and fought off the urge to scratch at my neck. What would live in darkness?

What hunted down here?

My neck was tingling.
This is just a tunnel
, I thought.
It’s dark. That’s it.
I was like Yashar now, lost in the dark. He had found his way around the village after a while, and if he could do that, I could find my way out.

I slid down another step. On the eighth one, my foot landed in something wet. It was cold as ice and rushed over the step. Using one hand to prop myself on the stairs, I felt around for its source. It poured out from a gash in the rock.