Zayen
"Why not?"
She glares at me, as if I didn't help her by stopping her from being hurt further by whoever that man—if I can call him a man—was. "Because you didn't say please."
"Oh, looks like getting the shit beaten out of you has taught you sarcasm."
She looks me over. "You would know."
"Ouch." That's kind of funny.
Maybe I should just leave her here. I don't know what I was thinking, trying to be a hero.
I sigh and the sound seems to rumble off the walls. "Fine, be a brat." I'll leave her. She can find her own way. Maybe Akilah was right. I wasted my time.
"Wait." Her voice comes out softer, more vulnerable. I stop, already half way out the carved entrance, but don't turn to face her. "I can't. . ." Her words come out shaky. "I can't move. Everything feels numb. I can't."
I'm an idiot for feeling sympathy towards her. But she just sounds so sweet and—I turn to her, keeping my expression hard.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't leave you here for the wolves," I demand.
Her eyes widen and she tries to push herself up to her feet, only for her arms to give out. "Wolves?" Her throat seems to be closing up.
I don't know if there are wolves. None of the stories about Ardifa have actually been confirmed. But if there are giant men with eyes as black as the depths of the ocean, then wolves sure are a possibility.
"Give me a reason."
"I . . ." She seems to struggle to come up with one. "I can't let her die because of me." Her big brown eyes seem to shine, the light from above falling on her like it is drawn towards her.
Her mother. She's playing the sympathy card. It's the only reason she is here, doing this. That is the one, probably the only, thing we have in common.
"One condition."
She manages to lift her arm to the back of her head and lightly presses it, wincing as she does. "What?"
"If I don't make it back for any reason, promise me you'll take care of Saad and Aya." I step back into the dim cave. My eyes trail away to the man whose skin has begun to go a greyish colour. Do that, and I'll protect you with my life for as long as I can."
"Saad and Aya. Those kids?" she asks, her gaze following mine to the decapitated man. At least the blood has stopped pooling. Still, she tries to shift away and fails.
"Yes."
"Who are they to you?"
"It doesn't matter. Do we have a deal?"
"Are they yours?"
How old does she think I am? I would have been fifteen years old when Saad was born. "No."
"Then why—?"
"Do we have a deal?" I evade the question. It's none of her business. She doesn't need to know anything personal about me.
"Tell me who they are," she pushes. "You know how much I care about my mother. You know where I live. You know the worst of my actions. Let me at least know who they are, if you want me to protect them."
She puts forward a good argument, but . . . "You are not in the position to bargain, Sariq."
I could almost swear she nearly smiled when I called her that. She takes a moment to consider. "Fine, I'll protect them if you don't make it back."
"Good. And I'll make sure you make it back. Inshallah." That means by the will of God.
"Ameen." She manages to pull her knees up to her chest, but still can't manage to move her arms.
"Alright, come on." I lift her up into my arms so that her legs dangle to my right. She sighs, her head tilting to lean against my chest. "Akilah will kill me if we take a second longer."
We step out into the light, the fresh air replacing the smell of flesh and blood.
She breathes in the smell of me. The sensation of her breath against my neck nearly makes me shiver. "Zayen," she draws out my name like it's a delicacy she'd like to devour.
"Yeah?" When she doesn't respond, I look down at her. Her eyes are fluttering closed, her body seeming to relax into mine. The act of trust makes me feel more protective over her, wishing there was more I could do to help ease her pain. "Are you okay?"
She takes a deep breath. "Hmm." The sound is barely audible. It softens my heart for the slightest moment, reminding me of how I felt when I'd sneak out to see Saad and Aya.
Every time I'd see them waiting in that outside room, excitement in their eyes as soon as I'd step in—and I left them. Alone and confused, I left them, without any explanation.
The pain settles back in place, making me wish I could be as numb as the thief is now.
~~*~~
"About time," Nawaz riles, getting to his feet. It's funny how he has gone from palaces to sleeping on thin mats and waiting around on dirt floors. He takes note of the way I am carrying the thief. "Is she okay?"
I almost drop her with exhaustion. "She will be." No thanks to you, prince.
"Do you want me to take her from you?" I know his words are shaped into a purposeful weapon. The real meaning behind his question is just a reminder of his undeserved power.
If I say no, if I react at all, it will only add fuel to his fire. He steps up to me and I drop her into his arms—silently grateful for the break.
"Pathetic." Akilah shakes her head, lifting a bag over her shoulder and walking further into the man-made hole in the mountain.
"Where are we going?" I ask, following Akilah blindly.
The vibration of my voice makes the thief stir. Her eyes flutter open. As soon as she sees Nawaz, she reaches out for him like a child.
Anger burns in my throat at the action. After I help her—after I carry her to safety when she needed me—she still reaches for him.
He smirks like he won at some sort of non-existent competition.
"Alara," he says her true name for what might be the first time. He says it gently. "Hi, beautiful."
And there it is again—those flashes of memories. The way he touched the woman I loved, holding her face like he actually wanted her. But truly he just wanted to hurt me.
And I don't know why.
But whatever he is trying now won't bother me. He can do whatever he wants, as he always has.
He holds her close, and she smiles sleepily. Her head settles against his chest. I hope he smells bad. I'm supposed to not let it bother me, but why the hell does she trust him more than me?
Nawaz meets my gaze, and must notice my frustration because something light sparks in his eyes as he walks beside me.
The corners of his lips turn up. It makes me want to use the twenty-something years of training I have received on him.
The path we follow under the hill soon becomes pitch black, and I slow my pace to increase the awareness of my surroundings. There are only the footsteps of three people—a good start.
I trail the pads of my fingers along the side of the wall. It seems to be man made, just like the mountain that we went through.
It had strange writing on the ceiling. Akilah hadn't even glanced at it when I pointed it out, and when I was trying to figure out what it meant, she claimed that we don't have time and didn't look back.
Almost like she knew.
Are there engravings on this passage too? Things that we wouldn't understand, but she does. Where is it taking us?
"Akilah?" I call out.
Silence follows.
I reach out, following the sounds of the footsteps. Heavier steps come from beside me, which I know are Nawaz's.
Rushing forward, I grab ahold of a body and slam them down against the floor. I punch them in the jaw and they grunt—giving away that it is a man and not Akilah.
I punch again and again until their will to fight stops. They block their face. "Tawaqaf ean darbi!" He shouts at me to stop hitting him.
"Who are you?" I growl. I straddle his chest and keep his arms pinned down to the ground. "Where is Akilah?"
"Who? I-I don't know! I've been—"
The sound of other footsteps running in our direction makes me rise to my feet. I go to block their path from Nawaz and the thief.
From the amount of footsteps coming towards towards us, I already know I have broken my promise to myself. I won't win this fight. It's in the dark and we are outnumbered.
I unsheathe the sword on my back and hold it in front of me. If I'm going down, I'm going to take at least two or three of them with me.
As soon as I hear footsteps close enough, I curve my sword up and slash it downwards.
A man cries out in pain and I hear his body thump as he hits the ground. I'm not sure if he is dead, but it is good enough for me.
The next man comes unexpectedly, his footsteps light. I feel the brush of air in the speed of his moments and use that to follow him. Again, my weapon cuts through the air and knocks him down.
Footsteps seem to come in all directions—too many to count.
I told the thief not to get captured, yet here I am with no choice. It's funny how life throws lessons in my face like this, to show that everything is circumstantial. There is no avoiding this.
It is the perfect set up. I knew I couldn't trust Akilah, but for her to do this wasn't expected.
Hands grab me and shove me to the ground. The shock of impact goes through my body, and I feel it in my teeth. I want to see Nawaz and the thief, but I can't. I failed to protect both of them.
"Nawaz," I rasp.
"Yeah?"
"Is she okay?" There is a ringing in my ears.
"Are any of us?"
~~*~~
Viks Vapourub is a lifesaver
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