He fell asleep eventually. I didn’t.

After a few restless hours I pulled myself out of his arms. We were mostly sleeping without tents in the warm summer air. I picked my way through the bodies that were strewn across the grass. Like dead on a battlefield. The house was quiet as I made my way back to the kitchen.

It looked a lot bigger without half of the Rebellion stuffed into it. I started rifling through the tins on Shazad’s shelf. Looking for coffee.

The door to the kitchen crashed open, making me jump so violently I knocked a glass bottle to the ground with an ear-splitting shatter. An unfamiliar man staggered into the kitchen. I was about to go on the attack when he got close enough to the fire that I saw yellow eyes. ‘Imin?’ I relaxed, even as he collapsed into a chair by the fire, breathing hard. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I had to run all the way here,’ he panted. He was wearing a young man’s face and his beardless cheeks looked flushed. ‘The city is swarming with those Abdal things. One nearly saw me a few streets back. But I couldn’t get out of the palace all day and I had to tell someone. Rahim …’

That name got my attention. ‘Is he all right?’

‘No,’ Imin deadpanned. ‘He’s a prisoner. He’s obviously not all right. But he’s not dead, either. And judging by all the talk in the kitchens, he’s not going to be. Rahim is respected in the Sultan’s army. Executing him would be bad for morale, they’re saying. And bad for the Sultan among the people. So he’s being sent away, transported to some work camp where he can die quietly.’

That sounded like good news, the first in a long while, but I didn’t get my hopes up yet. ‘When are they moving him?’

Imin treated me to another eye roll. ‘Do you think I ran through Abdal-infested streets for my health? Tomorrow night.’

*

I found Ahmed in the general’s study. There was one flickering lamp that leaked its light under the bottom of the door. It made me think of the story of the jealous Djinni who flickered a tempting light in the night, luring children out of their parents’ homes, making them chase the fire far enough into the night that he could snatch them up and keep them as pets.

I could hear voices from halfway down the hallway.

‘Delila …’ Ahmed sounded tired. ‘You can’t—’

‘Yes, I can!’ Delila raised her voice. I paused, just shy of the threshold. ‘You’re the one who can’t, Ahmed. There wouldn’t even be a war if it wasn’t for me. This whole thing started because I was born. That’s why Mother – I mean Lien – had to run. That’s why you two had to start working when you were younger than I am now to feed us. I’m the reason you and Jin grew up in Xicha and that’s why this whole revolution started in the first place. That’s why Bahi is dead, and Mahdi and Sayyida and everyone else. I started this war and you will not even let me fight it. So I’m going to help finish it.’

I stepped back just as Delila stormed out of the study, the door hitting the wall loudly enough to wake half the house. She didn’t even see me as she pushed her way down the hallway. I waited until she was out of sight before I stepped into the light on the threshold.

Ahmed’s head shot up as my shadow crossed into the study. It had been resting on his palms, his elbows propped on the desk. His gaze struggled to focus on me. There was an empty bottle next to him. I wondered how full it’d been when he started.

‘Amani.’ He stretched up, and the candlelight travelled across his face, flicking one side into light then the other, so he looked like two people. I’d never seen Ahmed drunk before, I realised. ‘If you’re here to do the selfless thing and offer yourself up to Lord Bilal for an army, I’m afraid my sister just beat you to it.’

‘Doing the selfless thing doesn’t sound a whole lot like me.’ I sank down into the chair across from him without being invited.

‘Jin would never forgive me if I were to let you go.’ Ahmed shook his head. ‘If I let Delila go, he won’t, either, but I’ll probably never forgive myself, so at least we’ll both hate me equally then.’ Let you go, he said. Not make you go. Ahmed was my ruler; he could order me to do the selfless thing. To surrender myself instead of his sister. But that hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Because he wasn’t his father.

There had been moments in the palace when that had frightened me. That he might not be strong enough, knowledgeable enough, that he might be too idealistic. But that was what Miraji needed. Miraji needed a ruler like Ahmed. I was just afraid that a ruler like Ahmed could never seize the country from a ruler like the Sultan.

‘It should be easy, shouldn’t it? One person for an entire country. My sister or an army.’

‘No,’ I said. I thought of the ease with which the Sultan had ordered an execution. ‘I don’t think ruling is ever supposed to be easy. But, what if there was another way?’

‘To win the Rebellion without an army?’ He cast me a wan smile. ‘With more riots and lost lives? More cities falling out of my hands like Saramotai? With a death count rising as my father creates machines to make slaughter easy?’

‘No. What if there was another way to gain control over the army from Iliaz?’

Ahmed looked up at me, a flicker of hope on his face.

‘Rahim,’ I said. ‘He was commander of Iliaz’s army before Bilal was ever the emir. They know him. They respect him.’ I thought of how easily his soldiers had fallen into line when Rahim had ordered them against Kadir the day the Gallan ambassador almost strangled me. ‘I think they would follow him. With or without Bilal’s consent.’