But that night at the hospital had changed him. Dara could not look at the other side of the city and see only shadows and weapons. There were people, tens of thousands of them. Families and children and soldiers as weary of war as he was. Elashia and Razu.
“If you believe what is necessary is another massacre, you will need another Afshin,” he declared. “What happened to the palace Geziris was the last time. I won’t participate in another slaughter. And if you send the ifrit in, you will lose all credibility as our ruler.”
Manizheh’s eyes blazed. “Then perhaps I’ll send in the soldiers you have trained.”
“Then they would be the ones slaughtered. They’d be outnumbered and surrounded.”
“So instead you’d have us sit back and wait to be attacked? And you wonder why I question your counsel?”
“Manu.” Using a name Dara had not heard before, Kaveh reached out to take Manizheh’s hands. His voice was gentle. “Do not let this news shake you from your course. I know how worried you are about Jamshid. I am too. But trust me; it’s better he is in Hatset’s hands, regardless of her threats. Wajed might have killed him; Hatset will negotiate. I have no doubt she would trade her daughter for Jamshid if given the option.”
“Except we still don’t have her daughter.” Manizheh continued ripping up the letter, letting the pieces fall to the ground, and then glared at Dara. “Can you assist with that or will it offend your new conscience?”
Dara checked his temper. He was supposed to be finding ways to convince Manizheh to avoid bloodshed, not getting tossed out of her presence entirely. And perhaps finding Zaynab would do some good. Their enemies would lose their leader, and if the princess could be traded for Jamshid … Maybe with her son safely at her side, Banu Manizheh would be more merciful and patient with her subjects.
Dara bowed his head. “Will there be any Ayaanle attending our meeting?”
Kaveh nodded. “An ivory trader by the name of Amani ta Buzo. She’s one of Tamer’s business associates.”
“The man who keeps his ancestor’s spear as a wall ornament?”
“The very one.”
“Then I will try to speak with her,” Dara promised. “Perhaps she might have some thoughts on luring Zaynab out.”
“See?” Kaveh said, sounding like he was trying to cheer Manizheh up. “Progress.” Dara saw him squeeze her hand. “We’re going to get our son back,” he said fiercely. “I promise.”
Manizheh’s gaze looked very faraway. “I wish I had your confidence.”
Dara wordlessly stepped away as Kaveh brought Manizheh’s hand to his lips. “We will all be together again, my love. I know it.”
THE DAY OF THE PEACE SUMMIT WAS NOT A PLEASANT one. Daevabad’s weather had always been erratic, but with no magic, it had gone into utter free fall—torrential rains bursting from cloudless skies, followed by afternoons of blistering heat. It was wreaking havoc on their crops, farmers losing the battle to protect their orchards and fields. Today Dara had woken to a cold fog that smelled like rot, the sky growing more and more mercurial until it finally opened, pelting with sleet those unfortunate enough to be outside. Despite the accumulating ice, a swarm of crickets had also descended, unexpected vermin being another side effect of the loss of Suleiman’s seal.
“An excellent omen,” Muntadhir said drily at Dara’s side. The emir was in a great mood, clearly thrilled to be outside the palace walls for the first time in weeks. He crunched a cricket into the ice under his heel and then glanced sideways. “Tell me—in your more unsettling form, do you think you’d sizzle in the rain? That would be most entertaining. Like oil in a skillet.”
“Al Qahtani, I am not above gagging you and stuffing you back in the carriage.” Dara gave the sleet a look of distaste. Cold rain. Why did it have to be cold rain? “I do not even know why you are here.”
“The sight of him will set the djinn at ease.” It was Tamer speaking now. “My acquaintances are nervous. They fear being abducted the moment they set foot in our quarter. I’ve told them the emir is working with us, but seeing him here is better.”
Muntadhir grinned. “And without even a leash!”
“That can still be arranged,” Dara muttered. They were underneath a canopied pergola, but water still beaded down his skin, offending something deep inside him.
“Any sign of our guests?” Kaveh asked, joining them.
Dara nodded in welcome. “Not yet.”
Muntadhir’s mocking smile vanished at the sight of the grand wazir, replaced by open hostility. Dara guessed personally murdering his father was not something even the wily emir could move past. “Kaveh, I didn’t think to see you here. Did Manizheh let you out of her bed early?”
“Watch yourself, al Qahtani,” Dara warned.
“It’s all right, Afshin,” Kaveh replied, not taking his gaze off Muntadhir. “I lost what little respect I had for Muntadhir’s opinion a long time ago.” He lifted his chin. “Six years ago, to be precise. When you were too cowardly to stand up for my son after he saved your life.”
“Oh, look, the djinn!” Dara said enthusiastically, moving between Kaveh and Muntadhir and pointing with as much excitement as he could muster at the two small groups approaching from the direction of the Tukharistani and Agnivanshi quarters. They were huddled under wet parasols and surrounded by Daeva soldiers. Dara had insisted on meeting the envoys first, before bringing them deeper in Daeva territory, let alone anywhere near Manizheh.
Tamer coughed. “It may be best if you don’t do that,” he said delicately. “They’re already frightened of you.”
Dara followed his gaze to see that, as usual, he was resting his hand on the hilt of his knife. He grunted, glancing again at Muntadhir, who was still glaring at Kaveh, but dropped his hand.
He surveyed their new arrivals—a single representative each from the Ayaanle, Tukharistani, and Agnivanshi tribes. They’d had no luck with the Sahrayn and hadn’t
