CHAPTER NINETEEN

HE KNEW HE MISSED THE Caliph's heart. He watched as it impaled into his back, as he clung to his sister for support.

Sokath could have sworn she saw Zeeda look his way --it was only for a split second, but it was enough for him to know.

He climbed off the qasr roof when three men carried the Caliph away. He knew that even though his arrow did not hit the intended organ, the poison would do the work.

He didn't want a dirty and chaotic war over Zeeda who he presumed was dead. But seeing her alive in the flesh with her murderous husband changed the entire game.

If she was alive, then was there even a point for war now?

Sokath shook the dubious thought out of his head. They would do him no good, it would only bring him death.

Swiftly and ever so quietly did he slide into the night and walked away without a single look back.

BEYOND THE DOUBLE DOORS, KHAI'S screams could be heard. It was a wretched sound to hear, each one louder and more excoriating than the last. The worst part was his desperate screams for Mazeeda.

The four of then were all on edge. Zaabit was pacing back in forth in the massive hallway. Sinbad's hair was unusually messy from his constant hands running through then as he leaned against the wall.

Ezra sat on the cushioned bench, tapping her foot rapidly as she was sewing. Mazeeda stood in front of Khai's door, biting her nail fervently. Her eyes have memorized every carving and crack on his door.

Everyone was quiet, wanting to hear the hushed voices of the physicians on the other side of the door. They were all tiresome from the hours they've stayed up for any news to come about their Caliph. Nothing so far.

Soft clicks of heels echoed around the hallway before getting louder with each second. Everyone turned their heads, their breaths ceased to a halt.

The silence was so deafening that a single noise would shatter it all.

Amon emerged, breathless. “I came as soon as Sonya fell asleep. Any news yet?” He took a seat next to his mother, who looked up at her son with a small smile.

The two brothers looked at Mazeeda expectantly but found their queen's attention turned back to the door, still gnawing at her nails in anticipation. Zaabit and Sinbad glanced at each other again, worried.

“No, nothing yet,” the right hand man told Amon.

Shaking his head, Sinbad pushed himself off wall. He put a hand on the storyteller's shoulder and found it trembling at the slightest. “You should rest.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before saying, “I'm fine.”

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. He sensed her unease, her turbulent thoughts that must be swirling around in her mind like an undertow. He opened his mouth to tell her to rest but thought better of it, and instead decides to do something different. “I missed Starfall three years ago --the first one since King Baz's time as ruler, Khai's grandfather of course-- because I was caught up in a little village far down south where the water was cold and the rain that poured down was white and soft, but deadly. There was a horrible snow blizzard the entire week and though I was not in Yaheisea to watch the stars cry down from the night sky with my friends and family, I watched it with a woman.”

He paused to check on Mazeeda. She was listening even if her eyes were stuck on the door. “Her name was Rheda Shadid. She was married to a whale hunter, by the name of Lahan, who was well known in the close knit community for his hunting skills. It had been nearly five years since they last saw each other. Everyone began to believe that her husband had passed on and died trying to hunt the biggest whale. Suitors started to compete for her hand, some begged, threatened, and even bribed her. Each one she turned down with a single bat of her hands. Each night she would pray to her smallgods to bring home her beloved husband.

She was the only one willing to take us in when everyone else gave me and my crew the cold shoulder.

And when the stars began to slowly fall down the deep blue sky, I knew that Starfall had begun. I whispered my wishes and good prayers to the inner circle as I looked at the crying orbs glistening down like angels. Rheda stood beside me as we stared out of the window together, she whispered secrets to me as if I was a child of her own.

She said, ‘My ancestors believed that the falling stars are not lost nor wandering souls, but smallgods who had power beyond measure. And if you were to catch one, they may be in favor of you.’

Rheda paused then, and turned to me before finishing her sentence.

‘But you must be careful, for their power can corrupt and kill the owner who chooses them. Magic and power always comes with a price; always Sinbad.’

‘Why not go out in the snow and risk it all?’ I asked her. ‘Why not try to catch one and wish upon it? Your husband could be home before dawn and all would be well for you, it would stop all suitors from begging for your hand.’

She smiled at me, eyes not sad nor lost. It was strong and filled with determination. ‘I don't believe in false hope. I believe in rationality. I have trust in my husband, I know that he will return home to me even if it takes him a lifetime. He will not go gently into the night.’

‘But your ancestors believed it.’

Rheda laughed softly. ‘All because they believed in these falling stars do not mean I have to. I think there comes a time where that chain must be broken.’

That was all we said that night as we fell silent and carried on through the night as the blizzard passed through.

Before I fell asleep with my mates, I felt the slightest breeze of cold tickle my nose. It was the softest of whispers, but it was enough to wake me up and head towards the window. Out in the distance, I found Rheda out in the middle of the storm, holding a glowing red lamp in one hand and the other reaching out to the falling stars.

I held my breath as I watched her every move, waiting for her to give in and try to catch those falling smallgods. I wanted her to obtain one and make the wish.

All she did was stand there, as if battling with herself.

By the time I went back to lay back down, the door opened and shut quietly. I knew then, and still believe, that Rheda came home empty handed.”

Mazeeda finally tore her gaze away from the door and looked into Sinbad's eyes to see if it showed the smallest trace of a lie; if it showed the gift of a storyteller: deception and false hope. After all, the story she was telling Khai was a great lie.

He was telling the whole truth.

“And Lahan? Did he ever return home?” she asked.

The voyager stared back. “I'm not sure; my men left a week afterwards with no news as we ventured off. But something inside me knows that he did or he will if he hasn't already. Maybe I'll travel back there when I find the time.”

“Why…” she began, “why tell me this?” The Malika touched the ends of her hair, which was starting to grow. Her mind was blinded with anxiety and fear, which she hoped Sinbad could wash away for her.

He shook his head, surprised that his queen could be oblivious at times. “You're distraught; and I wanted you to know that you should not blame yourself for this. And just like Rheda, this should not affect you nor should you let it get to you.”

She pulled her hair in distress, ready to rebuke. Ready to scream out into the world for all the things she could not say. “It's...I'm not…”

“You are not listening to me,” he told her gently, like a father coaxing his child. “I'm trying to tell you that you just need to have faith in Khai, just as Rheda had faith in Lehan returning home. The Caliph is a stubborn and strong person, he will not go so quietly into the night. Something tells me that he has been through far much worse. Endured more difficulties than any human or king should to get to where he is for Yaheisea.”

This was a golden opportunity to learn what her husband has done before she came to the qasr.It was in the air, and she grabbed hold of it. “What exactly did he do?”

Behind the voyager's shoulder, Ahmed stiffened.

“Well, there was the war,” Sinbad said matter-of-factly.

“A war?” From her memories, Mazeeda didn't recall any war. The last one was decades ago, when Yaheisea was still young and prosperous.

“Why, yes. It was one I have never seen before in all my twenty years here. Every land was turning against each other faster than a crow could drop dead in the sand.” Sinbad noticed how confused and astray her face was. Everyone knew about this war that only happened three years ago.

“None of this adds up though,” she pondered, “our village would have known about it. How long ago was this?”

“Just before Khai became the Malik; King Ahmed's rule.”

“That's not possible though, it can't be.” Nothing made sense anymore and it drove her mad to be left out in the cold desert sand. The only person who could give her the answers was beyond the door, fighting for his life. “There was no war.”

“But there was,” he tried to drill into her mind. “There was a war and there's one brewing right now.”

The dress was too tight for Mazeeda's quickening breaths, the air too hot, the hallway too small. All the connections were there, all the pieces were falling together like an hourglass, she just didn't know how to connect them all together. She could reach for it with all her strength but she would never be able to fully grasp onto it. “Sinbad, I think-”

The doors groaned open and out came the two best physicians in Yaheisea. Their posture showed just how hard and long they have worked, their outfits stained with blood and other fluids, and their eyes hard and searching.

Searching until they landed on the girl who could possibly save their King.

Everyone crowded at the door, trying to catch a glimpse of their king. They couldn't see anything past the healer's shoulders.

The female physician's lingering gaze landed on Mazeeda. “It's Khai.”

The queen gasped quietly, holding her trembling hands up to her mouth to cover it up. “How is he?”

The doctor's eyes gave away nothing. “Come. He requested your presence.”

Obliging, Mazeeda walked into her husband's room, the door slowly closing behind her. She took a look around, taking in all the items and useless objects lying in every corner of his room. She wondered why he would keep such things to himself.

And then it landed on Khai's sleeping form, who was breathing so shallow. His skin pale like the moon, hair still dark as night, his skin like a desert between the two.

“He's alive?” she breathed out.

“Barely,” the man physician whispered. “He will live, but it will be a long road to recovery.”

She stalked ever so slowly to the Caliph, as if he were made of glass; one touch and he would shatter. “What did you guys do to him?”

He laid stiffly on his side, a pillow propped up against to prevent irritation or irritation to his back. His chest was bare but wraps with gauze.

The man and woman looked at each other before the latter spoke. “We gave him a blood transfusion. It has never been done before and it was risky, but we had to do it, there was a poison we never seen before that was corrupting him.”

Mazeeda scowled slightly. Of course my brother would poison the tip, she thought. Wherever he was, she hoped that he was far gone now, because when Khai wakes, she was going track him down.

She pulled a cushioned chair to the side of the bed and sat down, staring at Khai's sleeping form. He looked sincere and at peace, a face the Malika has never seen on her husband. There was no frown or cold feature etched on his beautiful chestnut skin. She wanted to see more of that, especially when he was awake.

With his calloused mask lifted away, he looked like a lost and ambitious person. The reputation that preceded him was gone and in its place was a vulnerable and confused boy king.

“Calipha?”

The storyteller looked up to the woman.

“Khai made a last request before knocking unconscious. He wouldn't let us work on him until we promised him.”

She thought back to all his desperate screams for her beyond the doors. It made sense now. “What did you promise him? What did he want?”

“He wanted you to continue the story, that was his request. It was all he could go off about.”

“But he's unconscious. Why tell the story if he can't hear it?”

The woman laughed softly. “He thought you would say such a thing, but he insisted; asleep or not.”

“Oh, of course.” It was a strange request, but when it came from her husband, it made sense.

“We'll leave you to it then, take as much time if you must. But please, it anything happens, all you need to do is beckon for us.”

And with that, Mazeeda waited until she heard the lock of the door behind her. She laid her hand close to his own, almost touching, but not quite. Foolish prick, she cursed in her head.

Here he was, clinging onto any fabric of life while she had to go on and continue the story. It was nothing special, it was simply a fantasy she made up to save Shazerade's life.

Liar, a voice inside echoed through, it has never been about Shazerade. Liar, liar, lies.

Gripping his soft blankets in her small hands, she repeated cursed Khai until it turned into a prayer to her smallgods. She was never one to pray often, but when she did it, it was for desperate measures. She hated how much he made her worry, how little sleep she was getting, what he did to her.

She did not ask for this.

Composing herself, Mazeeda brushed a fallen strand of hair away from the Caliph's eyelid before her hand thoughtlessly fell to his cheek, where her thumb caressed it before pulling away.

There was no need for any lingering physical touches.

If he wanted a story, a story she shall tell. And so she opened her mouth to begin the tale.

“The story continues with the moon high in the night sky…”

|AUTHOR'S NOTE|

it's been like what? almost a month since i've updated this? geez... i need help.

anyways, this book will be on hiatus until May 11th or 12th. this is bc of upcoming AP tests and exams i'll be taking. and i want as much time i can get to study for them. im sorry for any disappointments