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Chapter 1
Desperate times calledfor desperate measures. Nothing was stopping my latest heist. Not even the protests from my younger brother, Ali. Every night since visiting the herbal shop, I had thought long and hard about how to fix our situation. I was willing to do anything for my brother, no matter what the risk. If saving his life called for me to steal a few jewels from the sultan’s cave to buy Ali’s medicine, then the danger was worth it. The sultan, along with the other fat cats I pinched from, could afford to lose a few valuables here and there. This condition adhered to my one rule: never swipe from someone who couldn’t afford to feed theirchildren.
No one in Utaara knew about the sultan’s cave. The only reason I’d heard about it was because I’d stolen a map from the head palace guard. The scroll contained locations of all the sultan’s assets; his main residence in the palace, investment properties, homes for his family members, andtemples.
“It’s too dangerous.” My brother begged for the tenth time to give up on the idea, grabbing my arm, but he was too weak to hold on. The hollows in his cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes aged him beyond his eighteen years. “There’s got to be anotherway.”
My heart melted at how frail he’d gotten over the past week. Flu had spread like wildfire through the slums, and Ali and I had both caught it. Damn thing knocked me about for several days. Unlike me, Ali had not recovered. Even as a young boy, he was always getting sick. The Avestan, the local doctor, told me Ali’s immune system was not as strong as mine was because my mother had run out of milk and had not breastfedhim.
“You know this is the only way,” I said to Ali, turning away from those soulful brown eyes before I caved and changed mymind.
It was hard enough, breaking the law. Yeah, the risk was there… If I got caught, I’d either end up imprisoned or lose my hands for committing treason against the sultan. A fate I couldn’t afford if I wanted to keep my brother alive.But for Ali, I’d find a way to fly into theheavens.
My hands trembled as I dragged on a brown-cotton kaftan and pants that helped me blend in with the landscape…and into the shadows if need be. Around my face, I wrapped a shawl to protect me from the desertsand.
“We're not living like this for the rest of our lives.” I gestured to the pitiful shack we called a house in the middle of theslums.
Wooden shutters hung off their hinges, allowing flies to buzz inside. The pantry door had fallen off, and the mice ran rampant. Pretty much all of our recycled furniture was crumbling—from the boxes and plank for a kitchen bench, to the stained, saggy mattress Ali and I shared. And then of course, there was the sofa, which caused me no end of pain when I had to sew the frays in my clothes where the springs had caught on thecotton.
Ali squared hisshoulders.
I kissed his forehead. “I won’t be long, Ipromise.”
The wooden cart we used for a table wobbled as I put one foot on it to clasp the buckle of my sandals. Stupid piece of junk. No matter what I stuffed beneath the edge to even it out, it remained lopsided. But for something I’d found by the docks, it served its purpose, and it was more than most owned in myneighborhood.
Without money, I couldn’t pay for food, water, clothes, or any of the basic necessities. Every few days, we snuck down to the river for a bath. We were fortunate the sultan provided this free accommodation. Run down as it was. Was it any wonder my brother got sick all the time? Living among the old slums of Utaara, surrounded by squalor, the starving, and theimpoverished.
Heck! How was I, or anyone in this city, able to afford any medicine? We were blessed if we had food for one meal a day. But…I counted myself lucky to have a roof over my head. Thank thegods.
I collected my dagger from the table and jammed it into the sheath on my belt. Years of experience, learned from doing this job, had taught me never to leave home without it.Nothing was going to get in my waytonight.
“Azar, please.” Ali satup.
His chest quivered from the hacking, wet cough gripping him. His face was grimy, like our shack, and I sat down again to rub hisback.
When Ali calmed and took deep inhales, I ruffled his hair. “Want me to make you a hot tea before I headoff?”
I squeezed Ali’s hands even though he would not meet my gaze. He reminded me of our mother. Dark-brown, curly hair. Long, thin nose. Skin like the fur of a camel. I must have looked like our father who we never met. Green eyes, lined with long, black lashes. Ebony locks, always pulled back in a braid to keep it off my face. Rounded face and cheekbones with plump lips. Our neighbor had once called me pretty, but I suspected it had something to do with them wanting to borrow money for their dailymeal.
My heart slumped against my ribcage as I got up to prepare Ali a mug of tea. At eighteen, he should have been selling silks in the marketplace, tending sheep in the fields, or building new mudstone dwellings. Not cooped up, withering away in a shack, his skin turning paler by the day. Every ounce of me wished for a better life for us both. Jobs. Families. A lovinghome.
Our mother had abandoned us on the doorstep of the local orphanage when I was ten and Ali six. That place was a hellhole. Mustafa, the institution’s master, forced all the children to clean the homes of wealthy businessmen, all to line his own pocket. On the fortieth night at the home, my brother and I ran away, never toreturn.
My brother was all I had left. My reason for waking up every day. Death was not stealing Ali from me. Not today. Not tomorrow. Notever.
“Here,” I said, handing Ali the cup of steamingtea.
He grunted his thanks, took a sip, and put the cup on his makeshift bedside table. “Karim, comehere.”
Ali lifted the little Capuchin monkey we called our pet off the ratty, old pillow covered inholes.
For someone roused from his slumber, Karim seemed pretty cheerful, bouncing on the bed, twittering away, then settling on Ali’sshoulder.
Such a cute little thing. All black, except for the eggshell-colored fur around his chest, arms and face. Hands the size of a baby’s. The most expressive brown eyes I’d ever seen on ananimal.
“Don’t you go helping Azar,” said Ali. “Otherwise, no bananas foryou.”
Karim tucked his head like a scolded apprentice. He moaned and swayed from side toside.
