Jamshid’s voice grew even more alarmed. “What about her ship? Her crew?”
“I didn’t ask,” Nahri said. Ali could sense from her voice that she was studying him. “But people know something’s up. Apparently as the tide’s been going out, it’s been leaving lumps of gristle and blood and rotting fish on the sand.”
Dead silence met that until Jamshid broke it. “Maybe we should all be going with Fiza.”
“We don’t have enough ships to evacuate even half the people here,” Wajed pointed out. “And by the next tide? All we’d do is put ourselves on the ocean when it smashes into the coast. If the marid meant their threat, the timing was deliberate. Not to mention the rest of the djinn and humans on the coast won’t have any warning at all.”
Ali finally spoke. “Then I need to go. There is no other way.”
His mother whirled on him. “I will lock you in a cell if you say that again.” Denial and grief warred in her voice. “You’re not going anywhere, Alu. This is preposterous. Our family hasn’t had anything to do with the marid in centuries, no matter what involvement this Sobek claims he had with our ancestors. And I won’t lose you,” she said, her hand trembling as she waved a finger in his face. “Not again.”
Guilt twisted through him. How could Ali do this to the mother who’d fought so hard to save his life? Whose husband had been murdered and whose daughter was surrounded by enemies?
Then again, how could he not?
Issa spoke. The scholar had been unusually quiet and deliberative as his mother and Jamshid argued, but Ali recognized his careful cough as the sound of a man with bad news.
“If Tiamat has demanded it, the prince may need to go. She is not just a marid. She is beyond our comprehension,” Issa explained. “Stories of her predate Suleiman and speak of her as the great ocean itself, an abyss of chaos and creation. She very well could be the mother of the marid, having birthed them millennia ago when the world was still new.”
“A collection of blasphemous legends,” Hatset scoffed. “Primitive tales from an age of ignorance.”
“Respectfully, my queen, I would not speak so blithely. It is not blasphemous to say this world is vast, that much of its history remains shrouded. There are things God set beyond our understanding. We don’t have many of her tales, but Tiamat must have inspired a great deal of fear to be remembered and spoken of the way she was, so many centuries after she was active.”
“Then where has she been?” Hatset challenged. “If she’s so powerful, why does she let Darayavahoush terrorize her people? Why did she let the Nahids take Daevabad and force her children into servitude? Why is she only coming for us now?”
Issa sounded helpless. “I don’t know, my lady. I don’t think any of us can see into the mind of such a creature. Perhaps she’s been sleeping under the sea, such mortal concerns below her. She may desire the seal, or she may simply want Alizayd and it as curiosities, the way marid were said to consume ships and villages in the era before Suleiman.”
What did it mean to be consumed as a curiosity? Ali wondered. To give himself to Tiamat? Would she settle for killing him and sating herself on his blood? Or would it be worse—could she trap away his soul, devour it so he would be erased from existence, never to see Paradise or his family again?
Don’t think like that. You’re a believer in a more merciful God than that. But still, Ali wrapped his arms around his knees, trying not to rock back and forth.
“We can’t take the chance that she won’t come,” Jamshid said. “You two weren’t there. You didn’t see how powerful these things were. How angry. Suleiman’s eye, Sobek sounded like Anahid had freshly cheated him. He’s spent ten generations plotting his revenge!”
Ali lifted his gaze, staring at the stormy sky past the open window. His room was higher than Nahri’s. If he were a braver man, perhaps he would have thrown himself through the window and made the choice easier for his loved ones.
A sharp pain came from his arm, and Ali glanced down to see blood. He’d been digging his nails so deeply into the skin that he’d broken it, drawing four curved furrows.
“Then I will go.” It was his mother again, her voice decisive. “I’ve got this marid blood in me as well, don’t I? I will go to Tiamat and reason with her.”
Oh, Amma. Ali wanted to weep for her. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But his voice was steady when he spoke—she’d wanted him to be a king, and he could go bravely into this for her.
“You can’t. You cannot swim and breathe like they do. I can. And I’m the one they want,” Ali said, skirting what he needed to do next. “The marid made clear they can attack while I take refuge in this land.”
“I need you all to leave.” Nahri’s command rang out, professional and allowing no room for protest. When Hatset drew up tall, looking like she was about to object, Nahri stayed composed. “Your son is still injured, my queen. I understand we have limited time and must make some important decisions, but the rest of you can go argue while I take care of Ali.”
Gratitude welled in him, followed by a wave of shame. God, the things the monsoon marid had made him say to Nahri, the way he had touched her …
Looking eager to escape, Issa bolted, but Ali’s mother crossed to where he was sitting on the bed and gave him a hug. “It’s going to be okay, Alu. I promise. We’ll find a way around this.”
Ali forced himself to look into her eyes. He already knew the only way around this was through it. “Of course, Amma.” He held her close another moment, trying to set
