Page 135 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
“Zahra,” Namir screamed, trying to get past the assassin he was fighting. The assassin struck his shoulder, and Namir let out a cry, stumbling back.
Zahra threw her hand up as Pesha brought her blade down on her. The mark of thesibylappeared on Zahra’s face, and her soul intercepted the weapon, catching Pesha’s blade and forcing her back.
Pesha fell backward, a bewildered look in her eyes as her weapon clattered to the ground.
Zahra’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she focused, her teeth gritting from the effort. She pulled them both into the Duat.
Pesha cried out, falling back into the golden sands. “What have you done to me?!”
Zahra stepped back, and Pesha scrambled to her feet.
Zahra’s forehead wrinkled as her vision blurred. “I’m sorry.”
The color drained from Pesha’s face. “No.” She ran forward. “No!”
Zahra gasped as she left the Duat, her head lolling back against the wall. Her sight was blurry, and she lifted her fingers to her nose, where blood was flowing.
Namir appeared in front of her. “Are you hurt?”
Zahra blinked, looking down at her hand. Namir placed his blade in it. “Hold mykhopesh.”
Zahra looked up, her eyes narrowing in worry at his bleeding shoulder. “You are hurt.”
“I will survive, but we must keep moving.” He used his good arm to lift her up, supporting her as they ran down the hall.
Zahra looked down at Pesha as they passed. Her eyes were wide, but her gaze vacant as she stared up at the ceiling. She was breathing, but it was quick and labored, as if she was running.
They stepped over the assassin Namir had killed. “The room Ramses was talking about is over here.”
Sounds of approaching footsteps came from behind them. Namir cursed to himself, rushing to the door and pushing it open. He shoved Zahra through, securing it behind him. They ran up a small flight of stairs, revealing a small room with no windows. A small oil lamp was already lit, but whoever had last been in there was gone.
Zahra helped Namir push furniture, shelves, and whatever else they could find down the stairs to further block the door. The door was made of stone, but Zahra could hear the assassins chipping away at it and pushing against it.
Namir clutched his bleeding shoulder.
Zahra found a small cloth that had been holding some scrolls together. She took it and stuffed the fabric into his wound.
He sucked in a breath. “Are you hurt?”
“Not as badly as you,” she said, trying to take her shawl to give to him. She winced from the wound on her shoulder. Zahra looked up and gasped, stumbling back.
Namir’s eyes glowed with a warm hue. His eyebrows lifted, and he stepped back, dropping his blade. The light from the lamp moved from his face, and one of his eyes became dark once more.
Zahra gasped in disbelief. Even in the darkness, thekerescouldn’t claim him.Why?
Zahra stepped forward. Namir stepped back, uncertain of her movements. She took his hand—the one that had been holding his blade—and held it. When he did nothing, she lifted a hand to his face.
The warmth in his eyes was yellow, not red. The glow was only a reflection from the lamp.
Zahra laughed in disbelief. “Thekerescannot touch you.”
Namir’s eyes went wide. He placed his other hand on her face, grunting at the effort. “How?”
It was the same reason her father had never sought her life when they were in the darkness of night. It was why Ramses had fought thekeres’influence when Namir was badly wounded. It was why Waaiz sought answers rather than her death. Though thekeresthrived on hatred, there was something they all had in those moments that kept thekeresfrom affecting them.
Love.
The chimes from the obelisk vibrated the walls, and Zahra kissed Namir, laughing against his lips. He held her tight and pulled her close. Themedjaycould be heard outside the door, fighting the assassins. The sixth chime came, and they restedtheir foreheads against each other, smiling as rays of light consumed their forms.
