At his side, Tamer bowed. “Greetings, my friends. And thank you for joining us. I pray today takes us all on a new path.” He paused. “I am not sure my companions need an introduction, but may you be pleased to meet Darayavahoush e-Afshin, Grand Wazir Kaveh e-Pramukh, and Emir Muntadhir al Qahtani.”
Muntadhir swept in. “Ah, Tamer, you speak as though we’re all strangers and did not pull Naqtas from the lap of a singing girl with a reputation for leaving her patrons tied to the bed with their jewelry missing.” He winked at an extremely straitlaced-looking Agnivanshi man who instantly flushed. “Peace be upon you all, my friends.”
“May the fires burn brightly for you,” Dara added, forcing a smile that seemed to provoke even more fear. Two of the djinn edged back.
“For you as well, Afshin,” It was an older Ayaanle woman who’d spoken, in flawless Divasti. “You’ll forgive me, Emir, for we haven’t met. The laps of singing girls are not my natural environment.”
Muntadhir’s voice took on the slightest chill. “Amani ta Buzo, I assume.”
“You assume correctly. Though I would not have thought my family illustrious enough to be known by the emir.”
“Oh, have no worries of illustriousness, my lady.” Muntadhir smiled, the expression dagger sharp. “I only know of your family’s name because I’ve heard my stepmother referring to it as belonging to a pack of vipers.”
Amani returned his smile. “And yet now the queen is gone, and you and I are at the side of your father’s murderers. Perhaps neither of us should be so judgmental.”
Dara intervened. “Let’s not make our guests wait in the rain. Gushtap, you have searched the men for weapons?”
“Yes, Afshin. Those wearing weapons have already handed them over; however …” Gushtap lowered his voice. “There is an issue.”
“I take it he’s referring to my gift for the Banu Nahida,” Amani explained, pointing to a large teak trunk two of her men were carrying. “You might as well take a peek, Afshin. You can have first pick.”
Apprehensive, Dara motioned for the trunk to be opened. The earthy smell of iron hit his nose, and then he narrowed his eyes.
The trunk was entirely packed with weapons. Ivory-handled iron daggers and straight knives, short steel swords and throwing blades.
“This is your gift to Banu Manizheh?” he asked.
“I figured she’d appreciate the practical application. You’ll be moving on the Geziri Quarter soon enough, won’t you?”
Muntadhir’s eyes flashed, and Dara made several quick decisions, trusting only himself to deal with the giant trunk of weapons, the prickly emir, and the arms-trading old woman. “Both of you are coming with me,” he ordered, pointing to Amani and the emir. “As is that trunk.”
Tamer gave him a nervous look. “It might be wise if I go with you as well, Afshin.”
A diplomat could only help. “That sounds like a plan,” Dara agreed.
“May my brother join us?” Tamer pointed to the knot of recruits loading the waiting carriages. “We have an extra seat.”
Dara made a sound of assent, his gaze still on Amani and Muntadhir. They’d climbed into the carriage and were conversing in extremely angry-sounding, rapid-fire Djinnistani.
Kaveh turned to follow them.
Dara stopped him. “I don’t think you and Muntadhir should be confined together in any small spaces.” He pointed in the direction of Gushtap’s carriage. “Trust when I say you’ll find better company with my man.”
Kaveh glanced skeptically at Muntadhir and Amani. “You can handle them?”
“I’m told I’m very frightening. Go. I will see you at the palace.”
Tamer’s brother ended up being one of the young men Dara had berated during training, and as the carriage door shut and Muntadhir started looking even more rebellious, Dara found himself regretting not taking a more experienced warrior. He sat on the box of weapons, fully meaning to divest the emir of a limb if he made any sudden movements.
Amani peeked out the window. “Such a gloomy day. I was curious to see how the Daevas were adjusting to the loss of magic. I see you have horses pulling your carriages now.”
“Perhaps you might tell us how the Ayaanle are faring,” Tamer suggested pleasantly.
“You mean, have we exhausted our food stores, and are we ready to fall at the feet of your Banu Nahida begging for help? No, not yet, Tamer.”
“But I take it you wish to be the first in line once power shifts,” Muntadhir accused. “Even offering up weapons to help that shift occur a bit faster.”
Amani leaned back. “I must say I did expect more from a Qahtani prince. Oh, I know they say you are a drunk and a wastrel, but where is that fierce Geziri honor? I’d have thought you’d throw yourself on your own zulfiqar before aiding the people who murdered your father. Oh, forgive me,” she corrected. “You were not the one who knew how to wield a zulfiqar.”
At that Muntadhir flinched, murder simmering in his eyes. But he held his tongue when Dara threw him a look of warning and drew up, staring out the curtained window like they were all beneath him.
The carriage continued, rain beating steadily upon the canopy. Dara wrinkled his nose, fanning a hand in front of his face to alleviate the iron tang of the weapons that had grown thick in the close air. At the motion of his hand, Tamer’s young brother—whose name Dara didn’t remember—jumped.
And I am to make warriors of such men? Exasperated, Dara leaned back to glance through the curtain. He could see one of the other three carriages ahead, but otherwise the gray, misty street was empty. They were traveling along the avenue that led past Daevabad’s finest estates—the homes of people like the Vaigas brothers—and none save an unfortunate servant dared go out in such unpleasant weather.
He studied the thick walls protecting the villas around them. A jagged crack ran down the paved
