Page 45 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
Confusion flashed across the woman’s face. “Who is Omar?”
“My—” She shut her mouth. She couldn’t trust this person, and she couldn’t risk revealing information that might doom her.
The woman waited for Zahra to continue. When it was clear she would give no answer, she returned her attention to her blade. “What is your name?”
Zahra adjusted her position on the floor, trying to make her weak legs comfortable. “Zahra.”
The woman leaned closer and bored her gaze into Zahra. “Your real name?”
Zahra gritted her teeth.
The woman turned away. “You are a convert, then.”
“I am not,” Zahra defended, “but I am a citizen of Aur. I have been given a name by the Pharaohs’ people. Be thankful I gave you a name at all.”
The woman smiled at Zahra’s retort. “You love your King, do you?”
Zahra’s muscles tensed, confusion rolling through her mind. What was this woman playing at? “I love him as much as anyone does.”
“That’s not true.” A serious expression sat on the woman’s face. “What is your relationship with the King?”
Zahra gaped at the woman. “What?”
“I saw you with him this morning,” the woman claimed. “He left thepr-aaearly to come see you. I want to know why.”
She’d been watching them? “The King wouldn’t leave thepr-aato come see me. He is preparing for the?—”
The woman lifted her blade toward Zahra’s nose, and Zahra shut her mouth. “I have waited for some time for you to wake up. Don’t test my patience further.”
Zahra stared at the small blade. She had never seen anything like it. Its blade was straight and long, but shorter than thekhopeshesthemedjaywielded. She recalled her father using one when she was young—amakhaira, she believed it was called. The leather handle was well-worn, and the iron was red with rust—at least, Zahra hoped it was rust.
Zahra’s gaze rose to the woman’s eyes. “Who are you?”
The woman relaxed her posture, though themakhairastill hung between them. “You may call me Pesha.” She waved the blade. “Now, tell me, what is your relationship with the King?”
Zahra felt a strange sense of relief. So, her father was not in league with these kidnappers. But they were following the King. Did Namir know they were looking for him? Why were they interested in her relationship with him?
Even though questions ran through her mind, Zahra kept a neutral face. They could have some information on the King that would be useful to her. All Zahra had to do was play along and find out what they knew.
Zahra swallowed, summoning her next breath. She forced a scared but compliant look onto her face. “I did not know he was the King—not at first.” She pretended to hide a smile. “He was kind and visited often. When he revealed who he was, he made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. This morning, he visited me, excited about the Pa-sekhemty Feast. I asked if he would choose me, but he said he was not sure. Then, he left.”
Her emotions showed on her face, but she let them—the sorrow, anger, and uncertainty. Why should a king and a curse determine her fate? Why was she punished every night for something that was not her fault? Why could she not save her father? Why could she not save herself? “He did not want to be seen with me. He told me he does not want me at the Feast.”
Pesha listened in silence, thinking as she spun hermakhaira. After several minutes of silence, she returned themakhairato its sheath. “No, I don’t believe he would want to be seen with you.”
Zahra feigned tears. “Why are you following the King? He is a powerful man. I would hate to see one of my people hurt because of him.”
“Our people have already been hurt because of him.” Pesha stood. “If you were truly an Ionian, you would understand that.”
The insult stung Zahra to her core. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but this time they were real. Ache sat in her chest, consuming her beating heart. She understood. She remembered.
When she and Omar had arrived at the gates of Aur ten years ago, they had been traveling at Sea for months and walking in the desert. They had lost her mother and many others in the attack in Ionia, and the journey across the Sea and desert had taken many more lives because of sickness and lack of food and water. Zahra could barely walk, but her father did not have the strength to carry her. Themedjaystanding outside the wall weresurprised at their numbers. Even with all of their losses, the Ionians were numbered at thousands.
Zahra couldn’t recall all that happened that day, but she remembered the cries of her people. For every Ionian that was allowed in, one was tossed aside. Those that were diseased, injured, or too old to work were cast out to die in Deshret.
And then there were those that bore the tokens of theirtheos: jewelry, embroidered fabric, metal coins, and statues. Though her village mostly worshiped Selene, some included othertheosin their worship. Hekate and Hermes, in particular, were associated with sorcery and snakes, which were too similar to the symbols of Apep. These people were called sorcerers. The Pharaoh King had them branded with symbols of Deshret and drove them from the gates of Aur, sentencing them to a cruel fate in the barren desert. From what Zahra knew, many of them joined the Naqada people, who were an enemy to Aur.
Pesha walked to the other end of the room. Above her collar, on the back of her neck, was a tattoo of a snake.
