Shoving aside his doubts, Ali jumped from the boat, splashing into the ankle-high water as he crossed to join them on the riverbank.
“But God bless you, uncle,” he said. “Truly. We would have been lost without your assistance.”
The old man blinked brightly, the slightly vacant daze sliding across his face as it usually did when Ali drew closer. “You’re very welcome, Ahmad.” He shook his head as if to clear it and then slid a black bag from his shoulder. “I brought something else,” he added, handing the bag to Nahri.
Nahri had no sooner peeked inside the bag than she tried to give it back. “I can’t take these instruments, Yaqub! They belong to your family.”
Yaqub held up his hands. “I’d rather they be with someone who can put them to use.” He smiled at her. “Nahri, child, I don’t know where you came from. I don’t know where you’re going. But I saw what you did for that boy. You’re a healer by any name.”
Ali watched Nahri bite her lower lip, looking like she wanted to object. But then she threw her arms around Yaqub in a tight hug. “God be with you, my friend. I left something for you as well. Back in the shop. In the box where you keep sweets.”
Yaqub looked puzzled. “What?”
Nahri wiped her eyes. “A token of my affection.” She pushed him away. “Now go. Don’t be wasting a business day on me.”
“Take care of yourself,” Yaqub called after her. Ali didn’t miss the sorrow in his voice. “Please.”
We could have a life here together, a good one. Ali swallowed the lump in his throat as Nahri brushed past him. “What did you leave him?”
Nahri shoved Muntadhir’s khanjar into his hands. They’d used several of the gemstones to buy the boat, and now only one—a tiny ruby—remained. “He helped us, so I helped him. I don’t like being in debt.”
Ali ran his thumb over the hilt. “Not everything has to be a transaction, Nahri.”
“It should be. It’s easier.” She pulled herself aboard, ignoring his hand.
Knowing how Nahri felt about the audacity of having, let alone sharing, emotions, Ali held his tongue, pushing the boat into the river as mud sucked at his feet. He climbed aboard, using a pole and then the oars to make their way deeper into the water.
“So what now?” Nahri prodded. “Because forgive me … but we seem to be going in the opposite direction of what you wanted.”
“Would you give me a minute?” Ali closed his eyes, trying to call to the water sloshing against the boat. It resisted, shying away from the edge of his magic.
Annoyed, he leaned over the side and slipped his hand beneath the surface, letting the current stream through his fingers. He could almost taste it, the scent of brine and mud on his tongue. Come on, he urged, envisioning the river pushing against the boat.
“Your expression is not bolstering my confidence.”
Ali scowled. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Of course you do. You have an intimate understanding of the resting habits of sails.” He opened his eyes to see her idly lounging against a cushion, one of the stolen sweets already at hand. “You’ve really got to find a way not to look like a startled pigeon every time you lie.”
“I do not look like a startled—”
The boat surged forward, the marid magic hungrily lapping at the annoyance in his chest.
Nahri flashed him a triumphant, lovely grin. “Someone once told me a little emotion helps.”
A lash of pain went straight through Ali’s heart. He gasped, nearly losing his grip on the magic.
Nahri was instantly at his side. “What’s wrong?”
Ali pressed a hand against his chest, trying to catch his breath. “I don’t think the ring likes me doing marid magic.”
“We’re relying on marid magic to get us to Ta Ntry.”
He waved her off, dodging back before she could touch him. “I know. And I’m fine; the pain is already gone.” It wasn’t entirely, but Ali wasn’t risking anything that would have Nahri insisting they stay in Cairo longer.
“If you say so.” She didn’t sound convinced, but at least the boat was going fast. Perhaps a little too fast, the water racing with his heart. “No, this doesn’t look suspicious at all.”
“We’ll be using the sail as well, so it doesn’t just look like we’re zooming upriver with nothing powering us.” Or rather, they’d be trying to use the sail—Ali hadn’t told Nahri that the total of his sailing experience was a couple of weeks with the Royal Guard and a few hours spying on Nile boatmen.
He was, however, not unaware of her watching him struggle. Finally, after driving them into sandbanks twice, Ali was able to tack the sail into the wind properly, and they started moving south even faster. Had he been alone, he might have wept with gratitude. Instead, out of breath, his body aching in all sorts of new ways, he let himself collapse, lying prone on the flat deck.
“Things seem to be going well,” Nahri said drily.
“I think,” Ali panted, kneading his chest as his heart sparked in pain. “I may have underestimated how difficult this would be.”
“I’m glad you’re learning that lesson early in our quest.” A cup pressed against his lips. “Drink.”
Still dizzy, Ali obeyed, pushing himself up to sit beside her. Now that it was settled and packed with supplies, he realized just how small the boat was, and a new kind of anxiety swept through him. He hadn’t thought through the logistics of spending every moment—day and night—at Nahri’s side. Ali wasn’t even sure there was enough room for them both to lie flat to sleep.
“At least eat something, doctor’s orders.” She opened the tin of stolen pastries and handed one to him. “Trust me, the illicitness makes them taste sweeter.”
Nahri’s fingers brushed his at the exact moment she said it, and though Ali knew there was no way she meant it like that, a bolt of nervous energy barreled through his body. “Oh,” he
