Noor had said something similar, but I hadn’t listened. I felt the storm of djinn magic still igniting my blood, and I knew I didn’t have to fight Mazin with a sword to kill him. I could choke his body of life with a snap of my fingers. That dark rage engulfed me, dictating my sword like I was standing at the top of a mountain and ready to dive off into oblivion. I was at the point of no return now, the fury of the djinn magic so intense it was difficult to see straight, the bloodlust drowning me.
“Dani, I love you.”
I closed my eyes, wishing he’d never said those words. They called me back to myself, to who I truly was before all this, before my father’s death, before everything I knew and trusted was torn away.
And what about what I had done? Who I had become in order to best him?
My blade wavered.
“Dani.” He said the words softly, so soft I could barely hear him over the rain. “I’m sorry.”
I dropped my arms.
My sword hit the stone floor with a clatter. My knees followed, until I was on the ground, the rain falling around me.
“Dania.”
His voice pierced my chest, because no matter how much I tried to outrun it, to dismiss it, to avenge it, half of my heart was still his. Even though he’d cleaved it out, it was still his, and I couldn’t stop giving it to him.
He came toward me, his hands open.
And I took them.
Forty-seven
His hands were warm, despite the rain, and even though I had a swarm of emotions running through me, it still felt good to touch him. His fingers threaded through mine, and I closed my eyes at the sensation.
“Why can’t I kill you?” My words sounded desperate, wild, with none of the viciousness I had felt. Even though I still had the djinn’s power in my veins, it felt muted somehow.
“For the same reason I haven’t been able to sleep properly for the past year. Because when I dream, it’s always of you. When I fight, it’s your voice in the back of my skull. We are part of each other. Dani, I can’t ask for forgiveness for what I’ve done. I should have fought for you. I should have put you above my need for vengeance.” He swallowed and closed his eyes. “I thought I could do more to help you. And yes, I wanted to take power from Vahid. I wanted him to know what it was to be powerless. But I should never have sacrificed you for that chance.”
He was so close I could almost taste the raindrops on his lips, but I still felt torn in two.
Who was I without my revenge?
I must have said the words out loud, because a fire lit in Mazin’seyes and he looked at me, like truly seeing my face for the first time in over a year. “You’re Dania.”
“But I’m not. I don’t know what I am anymore. Perhaps not even human.” I curled my fingers, channeling that pulse of power under my skin.
I thought about what I had done to all the soldiers that had stood in my way at the command of the emperor. Of the prison guards I had cut down. And suddenly I felt… tired.
Noor’s face, pleading with me, filled my head. And then Anam, who still had no idea who I truly was, but who had trusted me even when I had donned another face. And I thought of my nanu, still waiting in our village. If I stopped now, maybe I wouldn’t have to destroy everything.
A burning sensation took hold of my veins, as if the magic inside me knew the decision I wrestled with. If I gave up this power, would the djinn still claim me?
Even if I condemned myself by making this bargain in the first place, I knew I would be lost if I let it burn through me. It felt like the zoraat mixture I had eaten but amplified by a thousand. And that same dark wrath was still present, lurking underneath the surface, threatening to spill over.
When had I ever let anything else take control of who I was?
I turned to Maz. “Where is Anam?”
“She’s safe, I sent her away because of the increased protests in Basral. And I didn’t know what you had planned to do.”
“I would never harm Anam,” I uttered, knowing it was true when I still had control of who I was, but with the djinn power, how could I know for sure? Was I still me?
“I was afraid you’d tear down every stone to get to me.” He ended his words with a huff of laughter, and an uneasy smile as if he couldn’t quite trust this truce between us.
Neither could I.
