Hero at the Fall (Rebel of the Sands 3)

‘I know what those creations of metal are,’ he said. ‘I recognise Fereshteh’s soul scattered out among them. What is it that makes you think I would be powerful enough to conquer him when he was among those who imprisoned me?’ He was seeing which one of us would blink first. He wasn’t mortal. He didn’t need to blink. I did.

He wasn’t mortal … but I was. I wondered if I could get a dying wish.

The Abdals were getting closer now, raising their hands, the heat building. And I couldn’t wait any more. I could feel that I was about to do something stupid.

‘If I die down here, then here’s what I want: for you to stay imprisoned in Eremot until the end of time or until you’re sorry for your treason. And I think we both know which will come first.’

I jumped off the ledge, hitting the ground painfully hard. Faces turned towards me as I landed behind the Abdals, wondering what they were seeing. I grabbed a pickaxe that had been discarded on the ground. I swung for an Abdal, striking it hard in the heel again and again until it stopped moving. I dropped back exhausted Another Abdal was facing me, my annihilation ready on its hands. I couldn’t take them all on. I knew that. But I raised the weapon all the same. And then suddenly, like a match coming to life in the dark, Zaahir appeared behind the Abdal.

He placed one hand on to the top of its metallic head.

The Abdal dropped in the blink of an eye. It was like watching the spark of life leave him and be absorbed into Zaahir, a small flame joining with a greater fire. He gave me a sly smile. And then he was gone again in a blink.

It happened too quickly to see. One by one in quick succession the Abdals fell to the ground until, where there had been a wall of soldiers before, there was nothing but metal and clay corpses strewn all over the ground. And prisoners staring on in mute shock, trying to understand what was happening.

‘Amani?’

The voice was so blessedly familiar that I almost dropped to my knees in relief just from hearing it. Like the burden of the Rebellion was being lifted from my shoulders and returned to his. I turned, to see Ahmed standing behind me. He looked nothing like a prince. He was wearing grubby, ill-fitting clothes, and iron cuffs with broken chains hung from his wrists. His face was stained with soot, and he looked like he hadn’t seen a razor in weeks. No one would know him from a pauper on the street.

I dropped the pickaxe, and without thinking, I flung my arms around him, forgetting that he was my ruler. A prince when I was just a bandit. He was alive. And then he was embracing me back. His arms felt thin and weak. But he was alive. When he let me go, Delila was there, tears streaking clean lines down her face blackened with dust, babbling incoherently. Rahim was behind her, looking at me like I’d just materialised from thin air, which I supposed I had, in a way. And there were others, too. So many other faces of rebels I knew well and prisoners I’d never seen before. And some missing faces, too.

I looked around for Navid, Imin’s husband, who had lost his love to the execution block. For Lubna, a rebel who had lost both her children to the Gallan and used to make the best fresh bread back at camp. For Shazad.

‘Where is she?’ I was afraid of the answer before I was even done asking.

Ahmed’s face darkened, and I felt my stomach twist. He didn’t need to ask who I meant. ‘They sent her …’ He stopped, gathering his thoughts, even as my heart sped up. ‘There was a small earthquake, three days ago. A gap opened in the ground, a small fissure, barely big enough to slip through but just wide enough for a small girl. There are soldiers, camped outside here, on the mountain. They’re the ones who are giving orders to the Abdals, and who provide our rations. They threatened to withhold food until we told them what had happened inside the mountain. It was …’ he glanced anxiously at his sister. Delila was looking at her feet. ‘It was Delila who was meant to be gathering provisions that day. She had to tell them truth. They ordered the Abdals to send Delila down into the opening to investigate. But Shazad took her place. The Abdals lowered her down into the mountain. And then –’ my heart quickened – ‘the rope gave way. When they pulled it back up, it looked like it had been cut through by something. And Shazad …’ He hesitated. ‘She didn’t come back up.’

Chapter 25

The fissure in the mountain swallowed the light hungrily as we peered down into it. The place where Shazad had fallen. It seemed like it might go down forever. Except I knew it didn’t because …

‘She’s alive.’ I could breathe easier once I knew that. Once I said it out loud. She might be hurt down there. She was probably starving, since it had been three days, by Ahmed’s skewed reckoning, without any dawns or dusks to gauge the time.

But at least she was alive.

I glanced at Zaahir. ‘I want to get her out of there.’

But Zaahir was just staring incredulously down into the darkness. Finally he spoke. ‘Then I’d suggest you start climbing, daughter of Bahadur.’ He tossed me something, and I caught it mid-air without thinking. It was a tiny spark of fire. I almost dropped it before realising it wasn’t giving off any heat. It didn’t burn my palms, just gave off light.

My first thought was that he was playing cruel games with me again, that this was some trick or negotiation. Then Zaahir took one staggering step backwards, away from the gap in the ground. It was a startlingly mortal gesture. An awkward stumble, as if his body might be made of flesh and blood instead of fire. Like it might know real fear. o;I know what those creations of metal are,’ he said. ‘I recognise Fereshteh’s soul scattered out among them. What is it that makes you think I would be powerful enough to conquer him when he was among those who imprisoned me?’ He was seeing which one of us would blink first. He wasn’t mortal. He didn’t need to blink. I did.

He wasn’t mortal … but I was. I wondered if I could get a dying wish.

The Abdals were getting closer now, raising their hands, the heat building. And I couldn’t wait any more. I could feel that I was about to do something stupid.

‘If I die down here, then here’s what I want: for you to stay imprisoned in Eremot until the end of time or until you’re sorry for your treason. And I think we both know which will come first.’

I jumped off the ledge, hitting the ground painfully hard. Faces turned towards me as I landed behind the Abdals, wondering what they were seeing. I grabbed a pickaxe that had been discarded on the ground. I swung for an Abdal, striking it hard in the heel again and again until it stopped moving. I dropped back exhausted Another Abdal was facing me, my annihilation ready on its hands. I couldn’t take them all on. I knew that. But I raised the weapon all the same. And then suddenly, like a match coming to life in the dark, Zaahir appeared behind the Abdal.

He placed one hand on to the top of its metallic head.

The Abdal dropped in the blink of an eye. It was like watching the spark of life leave him and be absorbed into Zaahir, a small flame joining with a greater fire. He gave me a sly smile. And then he was gone again in a blink.

It happened too quickly to see. One by one in quick succession the Abdals fell to the ground until, where there had been a wall of soldiers before, there was nothing but metal and clay corpses strewn all over the ground. And prisoners staring on in mute shock, trying to understand what was happening.

‘Amani?’

The voice was so blessedly familiar that I almost dropped to my knees in relief just from hearing it. Like the burden of the Rebellion was being lifted from my shoulders and returned to his. I turned, to see Ahmed standing behind me. He looked nothing like a prince. He was wearing grubby, ill-fitting clothes, and iron cuffs with broken chains hung from his wrists. His face was stained with soot, and he looked like he hadn’t seen a razor in weeks. No one would know him from a pauper on the street.

I dropped the pickaxe, and without thinking, I flung my arms around him, forgetting that he was my ruler. A prince when I was just a bandit. He was alive. And then he was embracing me back. His arms felt thin and weak. But he was alive. When he let me go, Delila was there, tears streaking clean lines down her face blackened with dust, babbling incoherently. Rahim was behind her, looking at me like I’d just materialised from thin air, which I supposed I had, in a way. And there were others, too. So many other faces of rebels I knew well and prisoners I’d never seen before. And some missing faces, too.

I looked around for Navid, Imin’s husband, who had lost his love to the execution block. For Lubna, a rebel who had lost both her children to the Gallan and used to make the best fresh bread back at camp. For Shazad.

‘Where is she?’ I was afraid of the answer before I was even done asking.

Ahmed’s face darkened, and I felt my stomach twist. He didn’t need to ask who I meant. ‘They sent her …’ He stopped, gathering his thoughts, even as my heart sped up. ‘There was a small earthquake, three days ago. A gap opened in the ground, a small fissure, barely big enough to slip through but just wide enough for a small girl. There are soldiers, camped outside here, on the mountain. They’re the ones who are giving orders to the Abdals, and who provide our rations. They threatened to withhold food until we told them what had happened inside the mountain. It was …’ he glanced anxiously at his sister. Delila was looking at her feet. ‘It was Delila who was meant to be gathering provisions that day. She had to tell them truth. They ordered the Abdals to send Delila down into the opening to investigate. But Shazad took her place. The Abdals lowered her down into the mountain. And then –’ my heart quickened – ‘the rope gave way. When they pulled it back up, it looked like it had been cut through by something. And Shazad …’ He hesitated. ‘She didn’t come back up.’

Chapter 25

The fissure in the mountain swallowed the light hungrily as we peered down into it. The place where Shazad had fallen. It seemed like it might go down forever. Except I knew it didn’t because …

‘She’s alive.’ I could breathe easier once I knew that. Once I said it out loud. She might be hurt down there. She was probably starving, since it had been three days, by Ahmed’s skewed reckoning, without any dawns or dusks to gauge the time.

But at least she was alive.

I glanced at Zaahir. ‘I want to get her out of there.’

But Zaahir was just staring incredulously down into the darkness. Finally he spoke. ‘Then I’d suggest you start climbing, daughter of Bahadur.’ He tossed me something, and I caught it mid-air without thinking. It was a tiny spark of fire. I almost dropped it before realising it wasn’t giving off any heat. It didn’t burn my palms, just gave off light.

My first thought was that he was playing cruel games with me again, that this was some trick or negotiation. Then Zaahir took one staggering step backwards, away from the gap in the ground. It was a startlingly mortal gesture. An awkward stumble, as if his body might be made of flesh and blood instead of fire. Like it might know real fear.