“It turns them into crystal pillars. That's what happened to the Lallat. If the resistance were to gather all four of the talismans the Lallat left behind and take them to where the pillars stand, the spirits of the Lallat could be released from their stony prison.”
Shay's mind backtracks to the night of Jou Boulka. Shadi's secret cave materializes in her memory. The stalagmites. The way one of them exploded with light when she held up the hjabat. “By chance are these pillars in a hidden cavern in Nezjar?”
“Just another sip, little dove; I'm begging,” Tarik pleads. “I'm so very thirsty.”
“Tell meeverything,” Shay demands.
“Yes, the last battle of the Time of Women happened in Nezjar. Toward the end, the Lallat hid themselves in a cave, but Al-Mukhtar found them. If their spirits were to be reawakened, natural magic could be returned to all women. In such an event, Al-Mukhtar would no longer stand a chance.”
Shay's spine tingles. She imagines a world where women have magic and don't need Snow to activate it. It would be a boundless resource. And a heavy responsibility.
“And where would your alliance be, if there were another war?”
“With whoever offers a more viable food source.” Tarik shrugs as though the answer couldn't be more obvious. “Imagine, subsisting off table scraps; it takes a toll over time. Forget the sun, I can hardly bear to stand in direct moonlight anymore. Look at me, tied by mere ropes that I should be able to snap with ease. I'm a shell of what I was, what I could be. There is no creature as glorious as a well-fed bloodsucker. Quench my thirst, and you'll see the difference for yourself.” Tarik licks his lips eagerly.
“Well, thank you. But no thank you.” Shay turns to Deebi, half-sick and half-giddy for what comes next. “Could you bring me some clover bean leaves? I need to bandage up this wound.”
“What's this?” Tarik frowns. “I've given you all the information you required.”
Shay ignores him until Deebi returns and her wound is covered.
“What are you doing?” Tarik whines. “Little dove?“
Due to Mukhtar Jawad's inaccessibility, she may not get an opportunity to avenge Ghita right away, but the creature who essentially took her mother's life to make a point—that point being that hefelt slighted—is right here. Right now. And the Vampiiruh Presidium won't do anything. They basically give bloodsuckers free rein as long as they stick to their side of the forest.
“Kill him,” she says to Kabeer, holding out the knife for him to take.
Kabeer sets aside a sandwich and grins merrily. “As you wish, lallati.”
“No, don't turn around, little dove. Don't walk away,” Tarik calls after her. “It's not me you want. It's not me who's truly responsible for all your sorrow. I can help you get to him. You want my allegiance? I'll do better than that. If you let me live, I'll help you get your revenge. I promise. Do you hear me, Shuika? ARE YOU LISTENING?”
She pauses. It's almost as if he read her mind. Shaking, Shay whirls back, interrupting Kabeer seconds before the blade takes its deadly plunge into Tarik's chest.
She leans over him, her hands clamped to his shoulders, her face in his, as if by getting as close as possible, she'll be able to assess his true intentions. “Who are you talking about?”
He swallows, trying, she can tell, not to stare at the vein that throbs along the side of her throat. “I know everything you have lost now, Shay. Glory to heaven,you feel things so strongly.”
It takes her a moment to realize the extent of her mistake.Memories.She got the information she wanted from Tarik, but she gave him information about herself in return. “And?”
“Ghita, Khawla, Hind.” Tarik recites their names slowly, and Shay almost imagines she sees her own unshed tears glistening in the dark pools of his eyes. “There is one man responsible for all this. Who kept your mother addicted to drugs all these cycles? Broke into Ghita's home with his armed soldiers? And if he finds out Khawla is a hizoura …” He makes a sad click in the back of his throat. “Well, you can imagine what he might do.”
Jawad.Shay's fingers fist in Tarik's shirt. She squeezes her eyes closed. Inhales.
“I can take care of my father myself,” Shay whispers, but the words are altogether weightless.
And Tarikknows it. He chuckles. “Listen, you're smart. The Sisterhood has their own agenda. They may be able to get you close to Mukhtar Jawad. Or they may not. You will be obliged to followtheirorders. Me? I don't follow anyone's orders. Except yours, now. If you allow me.”
Shay pictures Najla sleeping upstairs. Tarik poses a threat to her, but what about their father? Is he not the bigger threat here? “And how will you get to him?”
“I may need time to come up with a plan, but I have great sway with the Vampiiruh Presidium. I can start by making things … disruptive.”
“I never want to see you within touching distance of my sister. In fact, I don't want you to look at her. Know what? Don't even think about her. Ever.” Shay sighs, glancing over to find Kabeer sulking. She doesn't turn far enough to see the incredulity on the other brothers’ faces, but she feels it all the same. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Tarik nods emphatically. “Now, for the love of all that bleeds, please, untie me. My wrists are one of my most attractive features.”
Shay stares down at her nursing sister. Moonlight pours over her angelic face. Staring right into her eyes, Najla reaches up and curls her tiny fingers into the hanging threads of Shay's hair. Her heart swells until she thinks it could burst. This is it. The feeling she's been looking for all her life. The unconditional love she never thought she'd experience. The funny part is, she didn't have to do anything to earn it.
There's a soft tap at the door.
