A trick. It had to be a trick. Ali was shaking, the hilt of his zulfiqar slick with blood. He could bring it down. One strike, and Tiamat would give him everything he needed to save his people. To be a hero. To get his revenge.
Ali howled in frustration. And then he threw his zulfiqar away, rolled off the ancestor he couldn’t kill, and stood to face Tiamat.
She had already dropped down to snarl at him. Weak little mortal! Does your fiery heart ache with affection? Do you miss your murdered father? Think Sobek will stand in his place?
Ali glared at her, several responses rising to his tongue. He could declare that these murderous entertainments were evil. That he wouldn’t kill a bound man. That Tiamat was a monster. A demon.
The crowd of marid were still watching. They’d seen the memories of the naive youth they probably assumed was about to stand up for righteousness and promptly be devoured.
And Ali had seen them. Wailing as Anahid bound them. Sacrificing their strength to send Sobek away so that he might find a way to save them all.
Ali fixed a cold gaze on Tiamat. “So is this what you’ve been doing all this time?” He gestured between himself and Sobek, then nodded at the stone army. “While your children have been chased from their sacred lake, forced to toil for Nahids, and submit to their champion’s terrors, you’ve been playing with toys in the mud?”
Tiamat hissed, a rush of fetid air and saliva nearly knocking him out. Maybe I’ll toss you back to this so-called champion.
“I would welcome it. Better to fight than cower down here.” Ali turned to face the crowd of marid. “You all judge Sobek, and yet at least he did something! Where are the mighty marid I grew up fearing? You claim you could devour my land, build a throne from the bones of my enemies, and yet you shrink from this Afshin?”
A figure emerged, what looked like a drowned man reduced to shell-encrusted bone, with weeds wrapped around his skull. You do not understand his power and his viciousness. He murdered one of my acolytes, an innocent human, just to get my attention. He boiled my lake, slaughtering its creatures, and threatened to do the same to all our waters!
“So let’s find a way to stop him. We should be helping one another rather than wasting time on these games. Would you give up your freedom to travel the world, to tend to your own streams and lakes in favor of staying here … with your mother,” Ali added delicately, “forever?”
A visible shudder went through the group.
Tiamat lashed the ground with her tail, shaking them all. You are fools to listen to him. He is daeva, heart and soul, and all they do is lie. He is more likely to throw himself at this champion’s feet and lead him to your waters. She jutted her head. Ask Sobek what happened last time he trusted a daeva.
Sobek had climbed back to his feet, shifting to his other form and tearing Ali’s belt from his mouth. Ali wasn’t sure what had happened back there, if Sobek had meant to give up, but his ancestor still looked very capable of murder.
His words, though, were measured. “My kinsman speaks truly. He is ally to the youngest Nahid, and I have protection ties to her family. If there was ever time to make a pact with them, it is now.” Sobek paused. “Or perhaps I could visit my river’s mouth and see if the great mother who swims in the northern sea wishes to help.”
Tiamat started to growl, but Ali interceded. He might not be an unkillable warrior or capable of transforming into a crocodile, but stoking political dissent in the name of justice?
They were playing his game now.
“Let me and my friend return,” he implored. “Sobek may accompany us and teach me how to swim the currents. I will get you your lake back and find a way to remove the daevas who threaten you. Come now,” he added when Tiamat’s eyes churned faster, “surely I am more use to your people up there than as a flicker of entertainment down here.”
The marid were murmuring and chittering, the water growing tumultuous.
Sobek stepped closer. “We desire another way, Tiamat. I do not need to commune with my kin to see that. I will take him.”
Tiamat had drawn up, sneering. You will not. Not until he pays a price. You wish to speak for the marid, mortal? To be our voice when you are too frightened to confess the slightest connection? You speak to my children of their loss, a loss of which you know nothing?
“I will listen to them,” Ali promised. “I swear. I—”
That is not how we do things. Tiamat gazed down with her terrible visage. You wish us to trust you, to open our sacred currents, though you intend to dwell with your daevas? Then I will make it so you never forget your obligation. So none will forget it.
Apprehension darted down his back. “What do you mean?”
You will give your name to me truly. And then I will drain every last bit of fire from your blood.
Ali’s stomach flipped. “I don’t understand.”
“It means she will take your fire magic.” Sobek turned to face him. “All of it. You will belong more to us than the daevas.”
Ali’s mind abruptly went blank. You will belong more to us than the daevas. His gaze fell upon his zulfiqar, the thrill he’d felt at finally enflaming it going cold.
But it wasn’t just his zulfiqar. It was everything. The flames he’d taught Nahri to conjure, the magic that allowed him to pass through Daevabad’s veil, the heat in his hands he’d use to boil a cup of coffee. Half their traditions revolved around fire, their world revolved around fire magic. It’s why losing it brought their society to a standstill.
And his would be gone.
Ali’s
