The Serpent's Veil

Stalking Shadows

The aqueduct bridge erupted into flames before Yahya's eyes. Shouts and cries brimming with panic rose from the streets below, but he ignored them as he jumped from a perch on the side of the mosque onto the roof.

Rehan was at the previous checkpoint, just as Khaya said he would be. It was too dangerous for her to accompany Yahya, so she'd disappeared into the crowds entering the Blue Mosque when the call to prayer chimed. She'd heard Rehan speaking to a Reyan guard, and a clash of blades against an unknown foe — presumably one of the insurgents he'd been sent to silence. When they knew he was safe, Yahya had scaled the side of the mosque and taken up watch.

Now, he let out a string of curses as Rehan leapt from the aqueduct bridge onto the narrow stone wall and raced after the retreating rebel, now a blur of whiteness as he dashed along the aqueduct wall like a stream of water.

Yahya's body knew what to do before he did; he took a running jump off the roof of the mosque onto a lower level and kept his stride as he ran alongside the white-clad man, bounding over the gaps between buildings with the grace of a leopard.

Close behind, Rehan gained on them, a dark red streak against the grey sky. Yahya did not know if the Prince had noticed him, but there would be time to explain himself after they captured the rebel, who was approaching the first fork in the aqueduct where the masonry split into three channels.

Foolishly, he chose the left-most route, cutting straight into Yahya's path. The Barmaki allowed himself a smile as he picked up speed, feet barely brushing against the hard and flat roofs. The white-clad slowed down to make the sharp turn where the conduit changed direction, and Yahya hazarded a glance over his shoulder. Rehan was keeping pace with them, but as he approached the fork his gaze shifted past the corner and to the white-clad himself.

With a sharp cry, the Prince threw himself from the edge of the main aqueduct wall, aiming directly for the left channel.

Suddenly Yahya could only hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears.

He was just a single jump away from the rebel, but he spun away and barrelled towards the edge of the roof. Rehan was not going to reach the aqueduct wall.

He was going to fall. Fall and d—

No. No. No!

Yahya's skin was flame hot with panic, his vision blurred, he reached his hand out, out, out—

Their hands closed around each other's forearms as Rehan slammed into the side of the stone building. Every sinew in Yahya's body was shaking as he heaved the Prince onto the roof, still filled with adrenaline fuelled panic even though his friend was safe.

"Rehan, are you okay?" Yahya said, almost breathless.

The sight of Rehan caked in drying blood and dripping with sweat filled Yahya with dread, but Rehan got to his feet in an instant and rolled his shoulders back with the nonchalance of being out for a stroll. If he was surprised to see Yahya, he hid it well.

"He's heading for the square. You go along the aqueduct, I'll cut him off," he said, his searching eyes locking onto the minaret at the centre of the city, piercing the clouds like a sword.

Yahya shook his head, still slightly dazed from the image of Rehan flying through the air, and the possibility of him not catching his hand. When his vision cleared to see Rehan's strong form cutting against the backdrop of Rey, it was as if every colour around him had brightened, the sky more blue, dull stone gleaming, dusty bricks shining rich red.

He was forgetting that the Prince could handle himself, and there was still a mission to complete. A blink, and they had separated again; Rehan to the square, Yahya keeping in line with the aqueduct.