“So peris do interfere. But only when it suits you.”
“We do not interfere,” the ruby peri insisted. “We seek to avert the greatest harm, to listen to the warnings of the heavens when its laws are about to be broken.”
“You interfere,” Nahri said, more vehemently. Arguing with these creatures while trapped in their realm was probably not the wisest move, but she was tired of being manipulated and deceived by people who believed themselves superior. At least Ghassan had been up front; these twisted half-truths, as if Nahri was the one being unreasonable, were almost worse.
The pearl peri looked amused. “I told you she had Anahid’s tongue.”
“I take it she too was given some of this ‘guidance’?” Nahri asked.
“You wear it on your finger.” The peri moved as if to reach for Nahri’s hand, and Nahri jerked back. “But the seal ring’s magic has not bonded to you, and it will not—not even if you bring it back to Daevabad. Anahid was a daeva who traveled the sands for millennia and was a companion to a prophet. She gave her life and heart for her city. That is not an enchantment you can fix without a similar exchange.”
A similar exchange. Nahri heard the underlying message in those polite words. “You said your people had a proposal for me. So why don’t you state it? Clearly, if that’s even possible for you.”
The ruby peri spoke again, bringing his hands together. “There are certain laws of creation. Of balance—a balance that benefits us all, peri and daeva, marid and human. Those laws have now been broken, twisted and degraded, again and again by one of your kin.”
Nahri untangled the peri’s words. “By Manizheh, you mean. You’re a bit late with your outrage. She already attacked Daevabad and murdered thousands.”
“The internecine squabbles of your people do not concern us,” the peri replied, seeming annoyed by her interruption. “What the daevas wish to do to one another is their business—until it infects those whose blood flows with other elements. Until it threatens the balance.”
“‘Until it infects …’” Nahri repeated, ill at the choice of words. “Then that’s what this is. Manizheh’s gotten powerful enough to scare you, and you’d like another daeva to handle the unpleasant task of getting rid of her. Will I be getting a zulfiqar like Zaydi? Another seal ring? Or maybe just more nonsense riddles I’ll need to puzzle out myself?”
“It is not Manizheh who is upsetting the balance. It is her servant.”
Nahri’s stomach dropped. Her servant. “Dara,” she stammered. “You’re asking me to get rid of … to kill Dara?”
“No,” the pearl peri said. “We are not asking such a thing. We would never make that type of request. We are simply informing you of the cost of magic’s return to your world and suggesting a way in which your burden might be eased.”
“But Manizheh is the one responsible!”
“Manizheh is a full-blooded mortal daeva. Extremely powerful, yes. But still beneath us. Lesser. Were we to be involved in suggesting her demise …” The ruby peri gestured to the flocks swirling overhead. “We have agreed that the risk is too great. Her … creation,” he said distastefully, “is an entirely different matter. He is an abomination, a monster she has cobbled together out of blood magic, murder, and a marid’s debt. His removal has been deemed permissible.”
Every careful word made Nahri more disgusted. It was what they’d wanted, what she and Jamshid had been searching for in their family’s texts. But the idea of the peris, so smug and convinced of their own superiority, debating the assassination of mortals below—debating how to make it permissible—filled her with revulsion.
“So you do it,” Nahri replied. “You’re all high and mighty. Surely you can perform your own assassinations.”
“We cannot,” the sapphire peri objected. Of the three, this elder was gentlest, and their words were delivered in a way that seemed to plead for understanding. “It is against our nature.”
“And he is in Daevabad,” the pearl peri added. “We cannot enter the city. Since the veil has fallen, we can see into it. But we cannot enter.”
Nahri clenched her hands into fists. “You could ask any daeva. Any djinn. Why me?”
The ruby peri swept a hand through the air, looking more fascinated by the snowflakes spinning in the wind than by the murder they were asking Nahri to carry out. “For many reasons. You can enter the city and get close to him. You need an act that will bond the seal to your heart. It is also believed your human blood will add an additional layer of protection that distances us. For a shafit to kill the Scourge, it would be justice.”
“Let’s not pretend you care about justice when it comes to the ‘internecine squabbles of my people,’” Nahri shot back. “And I can’t kill him. All your spying must be pointless if you haven’t figured that out. I’m no warrior.”
“But you are,” the sapphire peri countered. “In the only war that truly counts.”
“And you would be protected.” The pearl peri gestured to the shedu. “We took the shedu from your family when they stepped off the righteous path but would permit them to serve again.”
“There is also this.” The ruby peri snatched at the air, snow and ice condensing in his hands to form a straight blade that gleamed like liquid mercury. “A weapon that strikes through any heart that beats fire.” He tossed it to the ground before her feet. The hilt dazzled even in the snow-dimmed sky.
“You would be glorious,” the sapphire peri whispered. “A daughter of Anahid with Suleiman’s seal and a weapon of heaven, flying into Daevabad on the back of a shedu. Your people would follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter your human blood. No matter what revolutionary things you desired. You could transform your world.”
Nahri tightened her fists, struggling to keep her face blank at the calculated offer. The peris really had been listening. They knew her wishes,
