He saw the woman she’d become, surrounded by people who loved her, the woman brave enough to challenge death itself to save them.
Ali held his hands out to Sobek. “Show me.”
ALI’S HEAD WAS STILL SPINNING AS HE MADE HIS WAY upriver to where Zaynab and Muntadhir waited. It would have been faster to call upon the marid magic that would have transported him along the hidden currents beneath the water’s surface. But Ali needed the walk to clear his mind of what he’d seen—not to mention contemplating how he was supposed to break this new history to the friend who’d just had her world shaken up again. He needed firm ground beneath his feet, a gradual return to the other realm that claimed him.
He heard them joking before he even came around the rocky river bend.
“—because it’s not fair that you make everything look good,” Zaynab was complaining. “You’ve been out of the dungeon less than a week. How do you already have some fancy embroidered eye patch?”
“Adoring fans, little sister. A whole network of them.”
Then they were there before him, lounging on the mat Ali had carried out here and having clearly finished the food he’d brought from the kitchen. The siblings he’d thought he’d lost, the ones he’d missed and worried over so fiercely it took his breath away.
Muntadhir glanced up, grinning widely. “Zaydi! We feared you might never come back. We ate all the food just in case.”
Zaynab elbowed their eldest brother. “Don’t tease him. He already looks like he’s going to start crying and kissing us again.”
Ali was suddenly glad he’d walked back, because he had enough muddy river water clinging to his clothes to send it splashing over his brother and sister as he dropped between them, provoking yelps from both. “You know I could have been king in Ta Ntry instead of coming back for the two of you. A castle, riches …”
“Amma controlling your every move.” Zaynab pulled over the basket. “I didn’t actually let him finish the food.”
“Bless you.” His stomach grumbling, Ali plucked out a piece of flatbread rolled up tight with spiced lentils and cabbage.
His sister was still watching him, concern visible beneath her air of indifference. “Did everything go okay with the marid?”
“He pried a bit too deeply into plans for grandchildren, but otherwise we’re fine.” Ali said nothing about what Sobek had shown him; that was for Nahri alone. “As long as we respect the border, I think the peace will hold between our peoples.” He took another bite. “He did suggest filling the river with crocodiles.”
Zaynab shuddered. “I hope you know I’m not exploring this part of our heritage. Ever. I’m happy being a djinn, thank you very much.” Her voice grew grimmer. “Do you think there’s any chance they’ll … let you go?” she ventured. “Return your fire magic or—”
“No,” Ali said somberly. “But it’s all right.”
“Eh, I kind of think ‘marid ambassador’ looks good on you,” Muntadhir observed. “You’ve got your own river, the silver marks add an air of mystery, and your eyes are terrifying. Should suit you well when you’re negotiating the upheaval of our entire government.”
“He’s definitely going to auction off any family treasure he gets his hands on,” Zaynab warned. “I hope you’ve put some away, Dhiru. I know I have. I’ll be observing this revolution of the people from the sidelines.”
Ali scarfed down the rest of his food and lay back, shielding his eyes against the sun piercing through the leafy canopy. “I was hoping the two of you might join the revolution of the people, and then I could simply pay you salaries.”
Zaynab was already shaking her head. “I love you, little brother, and I love my city, but as soon as things are calmer, I’m leaving.”
“Wait, what?” Ali asked, taken aback. “Where are you going?”
“Everywhere?” His sister gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile. “I’ve never left Daevabad. I never thought I would leave, not unless it was for the palace of some foreign noble, a husband I’d be expected to play politics with.” Zaynab toyed with the gold bangle on her wrist. “For a long time I was okay with that; I believed it the best way I could serve my family. But that world is gone, and overseeing the resistance in Daevabad … it was grueling. But it also taught me a lot. It taught me I want more.”
Ali couldn’t conceal his worry. “At least tell me you’re not going alone.”
“No, but thanks for thinking me incapable. Aqisa is coming with me. We’ll go to Bir Nabat first. She wants to take Lubayd’s ashes home.”
“That’s where he should rest,” Ali said softly, grief rising in him at the mention of his murdered friend. “But I am going to miss you, ukhti. Terribly.”
Zaynab squeezed his hand. “I’ll be back, little brother. Someone responsible needs to make sure you’re not mucking everything up.”
Ali had left his weapons behind when he’d visited Sobek, but he sat up and reached for his zulfiqar now. “Take this.”
Zaynab’s gray-gold eyes went wide. “I can’t take your zulfiqar!”
“It’s not mine. It belongs to our family, and I’ll never wield it the way I once did. Take it. Learn to summon its flames and go have some adventures, Zaynab.”
Her fingers closed around the hilt. “Are you sure?”
“I am. Just as long as I can write and beg your counsel when I inevitably muck everything up.”
His sister smiled. “Deal.”
Ali turned to Muntadhir. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving to journey across the unknown too?”
Muntadhir shivered. “Oh, absolutely not. You will have to pry fully stocked kitchens, soft beds, and clean clothes from my bejeweled hands.” He paused. “But I’m not going back to the palace either.”
“You’re not?” His brother and Daevabad’s palace were utterly entwined in Ali’s mind. “But you’re the emir. I need your help.”
“You’ll have my help,” Muntadhir assured him. “But not as emir.” He looked like he was trying and failing to offer a jesting smile. “I mean,
