Hero at the Fall (Rebel of the Sands 3)

‘Some of you will understand the grief of losing a child.’ The Sultan’s voice echoed out of the machine. Across the room I caught Hala’s gaze just as she rolled her eyes so far back in her head I thought she might lose them there. ‘If you stood in my place now,’ the machine went on, ‘there is nothing any of you would not do that was within your power to retrieve your own daughters.’ The unspoken words seemed to echo just as loudly as those that spilled from the Abdals’ unmoving lips: and there is nothing that is not within my power. ‘Any person who retrieves my daughter from these radicals and returns her to me will be rewarded with their weight in gold.’ My finger, which had been tightly wound around the trigger, eased a little. Bribes of gold were nothing new. There was no one in the Rebellion who would betray us for the Sultan’s money. If this was all he had to offer his people …

‘But,’ the voice spoke again, stopping the creeping relief in its tracks, ‘for every dawn that my daughter has not been returned to the palace, another man’s daughter will die.’

The ground tilted below me so suddenly that for a moment I had to squeeze my eyes shut and lean back against the wall to keep myself steady. But the words didn’t stop coming from outside. And with my eyes shut it sounded like the Sultan was speaking within my own mind.

‘I have forgiven you, my people who allied yourselves with my traitor son. Your crimes were put aside with his death. A new dawn – a fresh start for traitors …’ The voice trailed off mockingly as it turned Ahmed’s words against us. ‘But do not mistake my forgiveness for ignorance. I know which of you turned your backs on me for the false promises of those renegades. And it is within my power to take your daughters’ lives in exchange for the absence of mine.’

It wasn’t a lie or a bluff. The Sultan was a man of his word. I didn’t know what I had imagined would happen as a consequence of kidnapping Leyla. I hadn’t really thought much about it in that moment of diving down into the harem. I’d been reckless. Like I always was. And this time Shazad wasn’t here to sweep up behind me. Or Ahmed to take the consequences of it.

‘My message is simple. Return my daughter or yours will start dying tomorrow at sunrise,’ the Sultan’s voice finished below us. ‘The choice is yours.’

A long moment of silence stretched out from the streets. I opened my eyes. Below us the Abdals stood still, sightless and pitiless, as if they were waiting for their message to sink in. And then the machine below our window took a step, and I heard the crash of a dozen more metallic feet against stone, as the Abdals began to march in perfectly timed step. Returning to the palace to wait for the city’s reply.

I pushed away from the wall, as the sound of thousands of mechanical feet echoed through the streets. I was still gripping the gun as I moved across the room. I didn’t have to shove Hala aside; she knew exactly where I was going. She stepped away from the door that led to Leyla.

I slammed the door open. Our princess had moved as close to the window as she could with her hands chained to the frame of the bed. Her head snapped around as I entered.

‘What the hell was that?’ Behind me I heard Fadi start to cry. I’d woken him up. I cast a glance over my shoulder. Sara gave me a reproachful look as she picked him up, bundling the baby out of the room.

‘I could’ve told you taking me was a mistake,’ Leyla gloated. She’d heard it, too, every word.

‘What the hell was that?’ I repeated, taking a threatening step towards her. But Leyla didn’t flinch.

‘A Zungvox.’ She sounded disgustingly pleased with herself. ‘Clever isn’t it? They use it in my mother’s land. I adapted it so that one could speak through my Abdals. I meant it to be used so that the Holy Father’s prayers could be heard all through the city, to quell those idiots worshipping the fire barrier like it was God’s work and not mine.’ She shifted awkwardly back towards the bed, making herself comfortable. ‘I guess my father found another use for it.’

‘He’s not a father who cares about getting his daughter back, you know.’ I tasted the spite on the words even as they spilled out. ‘He’s a ruler who just wants his inventor back.’

‘Well, at least my father cares if I live or die.’ Leyla brought her bound hands up to her face, pushing the hair out of her eyes defiantly. ‘Can you say the same?’

I took another swift step towards her, and this time Leyla retreated against the headboard. I didn’t realise I was still holding the gun until Jin’s fingers brushed over the back of my hand. He had come up behind me, his broad hand closing gently over mine, his other arm circling my waist, pulling me back, away from her.

‘Don’t.’ He spoke quietly into my ear, so only I heard. ‘Let it go.’ I opened my fingers and released the gun into his grasp. As we turned away from Leyla, retreating from her prison, I realised I’d been clutching the gun so hard that the mark of the handle was imprinted in my palm.

‘I know you’re afraid of him,’ Leyla called out from behind me as I started to close the door between us. ‘And you should be.’ She raised her voice so I could still hear her from the other side of the wall. ‘When they die, it’s going to be your fault.’

I ignored her. I didn’t need her to tell me that. I already knew it was.

* o;Some of you will understand the grief of losing a child.’ The Sultan’s voice echoed out of the machine. Across the room I caught Hala’s gaze just as she rolled her eyes so far back in her head I thought she might lose them there. ‘If you stood in my place now,’ the machine went on, ‘there is nothing any of you would not do that was within your power to retrieve your own daughters.’ The unspoken words seemed to echo just as loudly as those that spilled from the Abdals’ unmoving lips: and there is nothing that is not within my power. ‘Any person who retrieves my daughter from these radicals and returns her to me will be rewarded with their weight in gold.’ My finger, which had been tightly wound around the trigger, eased a little. Bribes of gold were nothing new. There was no one in the Rebellion who would betray us for the Sultan’s money. If this was all he had to offer his people …

‘But,’ the voice spoke again, stopping the creeping relief in its tracks, ‘for every dawn that my daughter has not been returned to the palace, another man’s daughter will die.’

The ground tilted below me so suddenly that for a moment I had to squeeze my eyes shut and lean back against the wall to keep myself steady. But the words didn’t stop coming from outside. And with my eyes shut it sounded like the Sultan was speaking within my own mind.

‘I have forgiven you, my people who allied yourselves with my traitor son. Your crimes were put aside with his death. A new dawn – a fresh start for traitors …’ The voice trailed off mockingly as it turned Ahmed’s words against us. ‘But do not mistake my forgiveness for ignorance. I know which of you turned your backs on me for the false promises of those renegades. And it is within my power to take your daughters’ lives in exchange for the absence of mine.’

It wasn’t a lie or a bluff. The Sultan was a man of his word. I didn’t know what I had imagined would happen as a consequence of kidnapping Leyla. I hadn’t really thought much about it in that moment of diving down into the harem. I’d been reckless. Like I always was. And this time Shazad wasn’t here to sweep up behind me. Or Ahmed to take the consequences of it.

‘My message is simple. Return my daughter or yours will start dying tomorrow at sunrise,’ the Sultan’s voice finished below us. ‘The choice is yours.’

A long moment of silence stretched out from the streets. I opened my eyes. Below us the Abdals stood still, sightless and pitiless, as if they were waiting for their message to sink in. And then the machine below our window took a step, and I heard the crash of a dozen more metallic feet against stone, as the Abdals began to march in perfectly timed step. Returning to the palace to wait for the city’s reply.

I pushed away from the wall, as the sound of thousands of mechanical feet echoed through the streets. I was still gripping the gun as I moved across the room. I didn’t have to shove Hala aside; she knew exactly where I was going. She stepped away from the door that led to Leyla.

I slammed the door open. Our princess had moved as close to the window as she could with her hands chained to the frame of the bed. Her head snapped around as I entered.

‘What the hell was that?’ Behind me I heard Fadi start to cry. I’d woken him up. I cast a glance over my shoulder. Sara gave me a reproachful look as she picked him up, bundling the baby out of the room.

‘I could’ve told you taking me was a mistake,’ Leyla gloated. She’d heard it, too, every word.

‘What the hell was that?’ I repeated, taking a threatening step towards her. But Leyla didn’t flinch.

‘A Zungvox.’ She sounded disgustingly pleased with herself. ‘Clever isn’t it? They use it in my mother’s land. I adapted it so that one could speak through my Abdals. I meant it to be used so that the Holy Father’s prayers could be heard all through the city, to quell those idiots worshipping the fire barrier like it was God’s work and not mine.’ She shifted awkwardly back towards the bed, making herself comfortable. ‘I guess my father found another use for it.’

‘He’s not a father who cares about getting his daughter back, you know.’ I tasted the spite on the words even as they spilled out. ‘He’s a ruler who just wants his inventor back.’

‘Well, at least my father cares if I live or die.’ Leyla brought her bound hands up to her face, pushing the hair out of her eyes defiantly. ‘Can you say the same?’

I took another swift step towards her, and this time Leyla retreated against the headboard. I didn’t realise I was still holding the gun until Jin’s fingers brushed over the back of my hand. He had come up behind me, his broad hand closing gently over mine, his other arm circling my waist, pulling me back, away from her.

‘Don’t.’ He spoke quietly into my ear, so only I heard. ‘Let it go.’ I opened my fingers and released the gun into his grasp. As we turned away from Leyla, retreating from her prison, I realised I’d been clutching the gun so hard that the mark of the handle was imprinted in my palm.

‘I know you’re afraid of him,’ Leyla called out from behind me as I started to close the door between us. ‘And you should be.’ She raised her voice so I could still hear her from the other side of the wall. ‘When they die, it’s going to be your fault.’

I ignored her. I didn’t need her to tell me that. I already knew it was.

*