Glaring at Khalid, Shahrzad shook off his grasp. "Musa-effendi, please do not-"

"I am not offended, my dearest star," Musa replied. "I know why the young caliph despises me so. I did nothing when he begged for help. It has haunted me for many years."

"There was nothing you could have done," Shahrzad cried. "Had you tried to help, you likely would have been killed as well!"

"No." Musa canted his mouth to one side. "When we are faced with our darkest fears, inaction is for the weak or the hopeless. There is always something to be said or done. Though words alone-"

"Are mere scratchings on a page," Khalid finished, his voice even colder. "The power behind them lies with the person."

Musa stood completely still. "You remember." A careful smile broke across his face. "That gives me a great deal of comfort. Though I do not deserve it, I thank you."

Khalid's chest rose and fell in steady consideration. "And I . . . thank you. For all you have done for Shahrzad."

Musa bowed again. "Sayyidi." He turned his attention to her, his expression undisguised in its warmth. "Your impatient tutor waits for you in his usual spot, my lady."

The creature waiting on the beach was most definitely not Artan Temujin.

It was easily five times as long as a man. And twice as thick. But these particulars did not give rise to Shahrzad's distress. What alarmed her most was that it resembled a snake. Covered in darkly iridescent scales. Replete with a giant hood.

And . . . wings?

Shahrzad swallowed a strangled scream. Khalid drew his sword with a quick rasp.

"Where have you been?" Artan demanded, suddenly emerging from behind the slithering monstrosity.

"What the hell is that-thing?" Shahrzad tried not to yell. The creature coiled around itself while she spoke, a rainbow of colors torquing across its scales, its leathery wings gleaming in the moonlight.

"Who? Shesha?" Artan grinned with wicked humor. "He's harmless."

The snake bared its black fangs, as though it understood. And disagreed, rather wholeheartedly.

"He's just a silly winged serpent." Artan waved a flippant hand. "Who enjoys frightening people. And-like any good tyrant-much of his appearance is for show. He's really very sweet . . . most of the time."

Throughout this entire exchange, Khalid had not shifted position. His shamshir had stayed poised at his side, his body between Shahrzad and that of the snake- His eyes trained on Artan.

Now, both the sword and its master turned toward the bald-headed boy, with unflinching intent.

Artan snorted. "I suppose this is the cursed husband?" He laughed to himself.

Did this fool not hear a word I said about Khalid's temper?

Before Shahrzad could interject, Artan bounded over the serpent's tail and onto the sand.

"You really are as humorless as she let on," he continued, eyeing Khalid askance. "But there's little I can do to remedy that."

The second offense.

"Should I call you Khalid?" he pressed. "Because you're not technically my king. No matter. I'm Artan Temujin, and-after much persuading-I've come to rescue you from your fate. But only after your wife begged me. On her knees, of course." He snickered. "I do so prefer her when she grovels."

It was not the barrage of taunts that sparked a reaction. It was the sight of Artan's burned forearms that registered on Khalid's face. Shahrzad winced when she saw it. Only someone who knew Khalid well would notice.

The slightest twinge beneath an eye. It appeared and disappeared in a flash of recognition.

In an instant of understanding.

Oh, God.

Then Artan made the lamentable decision to wink at Khalid. And clap him on the shoulder.

The final offense.

The shamshir flashed through the darkness toward Artan's throat- Stopping a hairsbreadth from its mark.

Smiling the entire time, Artan brought both hands beside his face, as though he meant to surrender. Then the center of his palms promptly burst into flame.

"I'll admit I was trying to provoke you," Artan said without a hint of fear. "It's a pastime of mine. Shahrzad told me you have a temper. But things have escalated a bit faster than I might have intended. Why don't we-"

"Was it you who burned her?" Though a bead of sweat slipped down his neck, Khalid did not flinch from the whirling spheres of fire.

Artan's eyes grew wide. Unlike Khalid, he was unable to mask his reaction. Guilt rippled across his features, causing his bare scalp to flush red. "Well, uh-"

"Stop it, both of you!" Shahrzad grabbed Artan by the back of his shirt and yanked him away from Khalid. "What are you doing?" For a moment, she considered punching Artan square in the nose. "Are you completely deranged?" Then she whirled on Khalid. "And you have been nothing short of abominable this entire evening. First with Musa-effendi, and now with Artan. They're trying to help us, Khalid!"

Despite her condemnations, the shamshir stayed at the ready. And the spheres of fire continued spinning.

"Put them away at once, you miserable louts!" Shahrzad insisted. "This is why the world would be a far better place in the hands of women."

"By far better you mean far less interesting." Artan grinned once more, though he extinguished his weapons. "Wouldn't you agree, O King of Kings?"

Khalid lowered his sword, but kept his icy stare fixed on Artan.

"Hmm." Artan paused in consideration. "If not for our brief but charming exchange, I'd almost be worried you'd married a mute, my dear little snipe. I'd understand, given how much you talk, but I have to say I'm a bit surprised."

"He's not mute," Shahrzad said. "He just doesn't suffer fools."

"Therefore he must have very little to say around you." Artan winked, flinging an arm about her shoulders and pulling her close.

Shahrzad placed a hand in his face, shoving him back. "He speaks when the company merits it, you ass."

"However does he survive, being surrounded at all times by such fools?"

"One stab at a time," Khalid said quietly, sheathing his sword with a pointed snap.

At that, Artan threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, I like him, little snipe. He doesn't say much, but he speaks true. He can stay."

"Stay?" Shahrzad said. "I thought we were going to see your aunt."

"We are, we are!" Artan tugged on an earring. "It's just that Shesha's being a bit-uncooperative at the moment." He pivoted in the sand and moved toward higher ground. Then he tossed two fur-lined robes back at them. "Find a way to secure these to that tiny carpet; you're going to need them."

Shahrzad eyed the thick piles of fur at their feet. "Artan . . . where are we going?" Her voice dripped with suspicion.

"To a hidden fortress." He waggled his brows. "Carved into a mountain."

THE DARK SIDE OF A MIRROR.

THIS WAS THE FARTHEST SHAHRZAD HAD EVER FLOWN on the magic carpet.

Before, her journeys had taken no more than an hour. True, she'd traveled faster than she'd ever believed possible-the ground had blurred beneath her, and the stars had stretched thin on either side-but she'd always had a vague sense of where she was going.

This time, she had not the slightest notion.

The carpet soared eastward for more than two hours. Then, when an expanse of mountains-far higher and far more imposing than those in Khorasan-appeared on the horizon, the carpet began to rise.

The air began to grow crisp and cold.

Without a word, Khalid draped one of the fur-lined cloaks around them and held her close. The chill had not seeped through Shahrzad's skin-it never did, thanks to the warmth of the magic in her veins-but she was not one to shy away from the chance to feel Khalid's body against hers. A smile curved across her face as she settled in to his chest and traced an idle fingertip along his palm, all while surveying the mountains silhouetted in the distance.

Shahrzad had commanded the carpet to follow the winged serpent, but she still felt strange watching the slithering beast cavort through the clouds. She'd never seen such an odd creature before. Though she'd heard tell of such things, Shahrzad had always considered them as one might consider a faraway star. Or a tale of old.

In the starlight, Shesha's long silver whiskers trailed on either side of his pointed snout, like slender ribbons streaming in a soft breeze. His whiskers were whimsical in their bent, and his eyes were unnerving, for they glittered with the bloodred menace of the finest Hindustani ruby.

Soon, Shesha swerved to the left, toward a snowcapped peak in the distance. This mountain was of the peculiar sort. Its west-facing expanse was sheared flat, as though a giant sword had cleaved down one side of it. The stone itself was a deep blue-grey. Under cover of a cloud-darkened sky, it appeared black. So black that it seemed to absorb all the light around it. Not a single stitch of snow clung to its smooth surface.

As they rounded the strange mountain's apex, Shahrzad saw that its east-facing side curved upward in jagged peaks, almost like a set of fingers fanning straight into the sky.

Shesha veered toward the lowest outcropping, then dove suddenly, his leathery wings pulled tight against his scales. The magic carpet followed, and an icy wind whipped against Shahrzad's face, all but stealing the very breath from her body.

Between the thumb and forefinger of the mountain rose a tiered building, carved straight from the rock. Had she not known to look for it, Shahrzad would have missed it entirely. Its four gabled roofs were stacked one on top of the other in graduated height. A wooden sign in a language of golden slashes hung above the entrance.

As they landed in the small courtyard before the building, a gust of wind riffled a set of brass chimes dangling from the timber eaves. The melody was of the eerie, doleful sort. The sort that clung to one's bones, long after its notes were lost on the breeze.

It was in step with the empty, ice-laden expanse around them. And the single stone bowl of fire lying squat in the middle of the courtyard. A sputter of blue and orange amid a stretch of black and white.

"Charming, isn't it?" Artan remarked as he tugged the fur-trimmed hood of his cloak over his bare head.

"It's . . . different." Shahrzad pulled her own cloak tighter about her.

"You should see it in winter."

At that, Shahrzad saw Khalid subdue a smile.

The trio strode toward the entrance, leaving Shesha to slither toward the fire. A set of low doors with a high stone threshold stood before them. Artan removed his sandals, and Shahrzad and Khalid followed suit.

Not a soul had come to greet them.

Which did not bode well with Shahrzad.

The floors were covered in a thick lacquered paper, polished smooth. Their surface was strangely warm. As though a fire burned beneath them. A faint scent of mint floated through the air. At least Shahrzad thought it was mint. Mint mixed with lemons. Or perhaps it was aloe wood?

Artan moved through the narrow hallways with the swift ease of years past. Slender lanterns covered in waxy parchment lit the way before them. They proceeded up a set of stairs and into another set of hallways. As they entered a shadowy corridor- A creature sprang from the darkness, hissing at Artan.

It was white and lizardlike. Around the size of a small jungle cat. With sharp talons and a smattering of dark spots across its back. The spiked fan along its spine was turned up, and its tail whipped about in warning. As it hissed, drops of saliva struck the lacquered-paper floor, burning holes through its surface. Thin trails of silvery smoke curled in their wake.

"Get back, you tiny menace!" Artan threatened the creature with an upturned, outstretched palm.

Though nothing happened, Shahrzad thought she heard the sizzle of a spark catching flame. The lizard continued spitting in Artan's direction, its spine arching higher and its yellow eyes glowing.

The soft sound of a woman's laughter emanated from the other end of the corridor.

"Has Tolu's son finally returned?"

The woman's voice was not pleasant. But it was not displeasing, either.

Shahrzad stepped closer to Khalid. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

Artan snorted. "Relieve your pitiful excuse for a sentry of her duty, and I'll tell you."

A harsh word Shahrzad did not recognize split through the gloom. The lizard retreated. But not without hissing once more at Artan, and spitting near his bare foot for good measure.

"Is it safe for me to proceed, Aunt Isuke?" Artan said, his amusement still evident.

Her low laughter resonated once more. "As safe as you'll ever be, son of Tolu."

After exchanging a wary glance, Shahrzad and Khalid followed Artan into a large room with teakwood beams running across its ceiling. A floor of woven rushes extended before them. Seated near a low table in its center was a slender woman who reminded Shahrzad of a bird. Not a bird of song or a bird in flight.

But rather a bird of prey.

Her back was as straight as an arrow, and her eyes were two pieces of flint. Her hair was long and hung about her shoulders like a cape of polished pewter. One thin braid fell behind an ear. Threaded through it was a string of colorful glass beads. Her tunic was trimmed in fur and tied across her chest with a leather cord.

She did not smile when she saw them. She merely quirked her head with interest. Her sloe-eyed look was alert and unwavering.

"You've brought friends." Her gaze drifted to Khalid first. When he remained stone-faced, Isuke turned toward Shahrzad, her eyes lingering.

"I think of them as friends." Artan grinned. "They may not."

"The girl agrees," Isuke confirmed. "The boy does not." She sniffed the air as though she could discern their thoughts through scent. "Yet."

"I gathered as much." Artan laughed.

"Then again"-Isuke cocked her chin in the other direction-"the boy cannot have friends. He does not permit himself the luxury." She blinked slowly. "For he is shrouded in darkness."

Khalid's hand tightened around Shahrzad's. She swallowed, her eyes meeting Artan's.

"Don't be so impressed, little snipe," Artan teased. "I could have told you these things within a moment of meeting your king. He hates smiling and never laughs. It's not a stretch to assume he lacks friends."

"Why have you brought them to me?" Isuke demanded. "Are they an offering?"

At that, Shahrzad placed a hand on her dagger, readying to bolt, while Khalid unsheathed his shamshir without hesitation.