“Idiotic.”
“Better idiotic than ineffectual.”
“Better alive than dead.”
“Run home, Rahim-jan,” Tariq said. “I can hear your mother calling.”
“Insufferable ass.”
Tariq grinned, but his chest felt tight.
The hired soldiers standing in the shadows behind Rahim stayed silent, awaiting Tariq’s direction.
If only he knew it himself.
He sighed. This would likely prove to be a fool’s errand. After all, Jahandar al-Khayzuran did not have a history of reliability. Lost in his grief, he’d failed to be a father to his children following the death of their mother. Then he’d failed his king in his post as an advisor and been demoted for it. And he’d failed Shahrzad when he allowed her to risk her life for revenge.
Nevertheless, Tariq had to try.
The rain fell harder. It was beginning to drip in steady streams from the low-hanging eave above, seeping through his cloak onto his skin.
Rahim edged away from the nearest trickle. “Do you—”
A flash of light flew across the sky, followed by a boom of thunder.
“One thing’s for certain; this storm is not helping matters,” Rahim said.
Tariq leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
Rahim cursed at the next crack of thunder. It was loud enough to rattle Tariq’s teeth.
People were beginning to stir in the streets. Lamps were being lit in windows across the way.
“Tariq!” Rahim warned sharply.
Tariq spun his head in the direction of the palace and watched in horror as a bolt of lightning struck one of the marbled turrets. It severed the stone into flaming pieces that crashed to the ground with earthshaking thuds.
The guards at the gates shouted in alarm.
“Merciful God,” Rahim breathed.
Another flash of white light struck nearby, catching a building on fire. The roar of the resounding thunder jolted Tariq to his very bones.
Now rain pummeled from the heavens in a side-sweeping deluge.
The first of the screams commenced when the next bolt of lightning tore through the roof of a home, sending charred matter and bits of burning rubble into the sky.
The home promptly burst into flame.
And the cries of panic grew louder.
Another blistering flash struck the palace, cleaving more marble from its side. Tariq pushed off the wall.
Rahim seized him by the shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not watching while that palace is razed. Shahrzad is inside.”
Rahim yanked him back. “And your plan is what? To humbly request admittance?”
“No,” Tariq shot back in vicious undertone. “My plan is—”
A bolt of lightning struck the center of the gate, blinding him and driving the air from his chest in the same instant. Wood, iron, and ash mingled in the downpour.
Chaos descended around them as the cries of fleeing, terrorstricken people merged with the storm’s cacophony. Soldiers spilled through the decimated gates into the city, trying to stanch the fear and maintain order.
“Is this Jahandar-effendi’s idea of a diversion?” Rahim shouted in dismay.
Tariq yanked back the hood of his rida’. “That’s impossible. Jahandar is not capable of this. He struggles to make a flower bloom.”
“Then what in God’s name is this?” Rahim cringed as another beam of light slashed across the sky and struck the heart of the city.
Fires were erupting everywhere.
Tariq frowned and bit back his mounting premonitions.
“I don’t know. But I do know I’m not leaving Shahrzad here.” He dragged his hood onto his head and removed the recurve bow from his back.
• • •
Shahrzad woke with a start at the first crack of thunder. Her heart lashed about in her chest as she strode to the wooden screens and peered between the carved slats.
It’s just a storm.
She walked back to her bed and sat on its edge. Then she began toying with the gold ring on her finger.
Just a storm.
A deafening crash and the sound of rending stone shot her to her feet once more.
Something had struck the palace.
When a clattering of footsteps amassed outside her chamber, Shahrzad grabbed the dagger next to her bed and crouched beside the platform.
The doors swung open without preamble.
“Shahrzad?” Jalal’s familiar voice broke through the silence.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m here.” She placed the dagger beside the dried rose on the stool and strode forward. Jalal stood in the center of her room with the Rajput and two other guards flanking him.
“Are you hurt?” Jalal asked, his curly hair mussed and his light brown eyes darting every which way.
“No.” She hesitated. “Why?”
“The palace was struck by lightning. A turret and a portion of the gardens are on fire.”
Her heart thudded in her ears.
Shahrzad balled her hands into fists. “Jalal, do you—”
“It’s just a storm, Shazi.” He walked closer, full of reassurance. “I wouldn’t—”
This time, the very walls of the palace shuddered under the impact. Her bed shifted, and a wooden chest crashed to the floor. The resulting wave of thunder rippled through Shahrzad’s body, making her worry all the more.
She raced down the short hall to her handmaiden’s door and yanked it open.
The chamber was empty.
“Where is Despina?” she demanded as soon as she returned to her chamber.