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She shrugged.
“Sayyidi?”
Altair spun around with a snarl. Zafira was gone, Nasir was gone, the black dagger he ha
d lost an entire eye to retrieve was gone. He forced air through his nose. Panic and stress never helped a soul.
“We—we found you the—a falcon,” the perplexed guard stammered.
“Well, where is it?” Altair snapped, the boy’s gray eyes reminding him of Nasir.
As the guard led them back to the war room, Altair let his thoughts roam. He and Kifah were bound to leave for their third of the plan soon enough, but they were meant to leave together with Nasir. Not like this. Without a farewell. Without even a note. Oddly enough, it stung.
A blur of brown and cream swooped past the double doors, and the guard ducked with an inhuman squawk. Altair stopped in his tracks. Is that…? He held out his arm and the bird perched on his gauntlet.
“We found him sitting on the gates, and someone thought he was one of ours,” the guard explained.
No, not one of theirs. His.
“Hirsi?” Altair couldn’t keep the strain from his voice. “Akhh, boy, did you follow me all this way?” With a contented, answering thrill, the bird rubbed his golden beak against Altair’s brow.
Kifah laughed. “Is there anything you don’t love?”
“My father,” Altair said simply, but at some point during his captivity, he had felt something for his father. Not love, but understanding, in the smallest of morsels. He snatched his letter from the desk, giving it one final read.
His mother was the last person Altair wanted to address, but Kifah was nowhere near as skilled a miragi as she was, and the Silver Witch was an integral part of making this plan work.
“Are we certain this will work?” Kifah asked. “How do we know she’ll even be in the Hessa Isles to receive it? How do we know she’ll agree to an illusion on that large a scale? What if she’s still injured? What if we don’t arrive in time?”
Altair finished tying the note to Hirsi’s leg.
“I am forever humbled by your unwavering faith in me, One of Nine. Here’s another question for your list: Why couldn’t Nasir tell us he was leaving with Zafira?”
Kifah pursed her lips. “If there’s one thing the Prince of Death is known for, it’s following orders. He’ll do his part.”
“A thousand questions for me, and somehow you believe in him without a sliver of a doubt,” Altair said.
“You believe in him,” Kifah said, meeting his gaze. “That’s enough for me.”
Altair smiled, taken by the warmth in her dark gaze. A man could get lost in them for days.
Kifah lifted her brows. “Well? Shall we?”
Akhh, the woman was not one for sentiment.
“Wait,” Altair said, remembering something he once never left without. He opened his trunk and drew two blades, strapping on his sheaths and sliding the scimitars snugly into the leather grips. He straightened with a heavy breath.
This time, Kifah did smile. “Just like old times, eh?”
“If only,” he said. He would use just one of his scimitars. The other would be for balance, and because he loved both his children equally.
“Maybe it’s a good thing he’s taken Zafira with him,” Kifah said. “We left her out of our plans when we shouldn’t have. At the very least, we should have been there when she woke up.”
It wasn’t that he’d purposely avoided her. There were missives to send out, dignitaries to placate, blames to place. And then it was too late.
He could only hope Nasir would stick to the plan and head for Leil. Not Sultan’s Keep. And that he would keep that daama dagger safe.
The same gray-eyed guard led them down to the stables. Hirsi perched obediently on Altair’s shoulder, his head darting this way and that.
