Artan sighed loudly.

"Don't bother, boy," Isuke said to Khalid, her tone imbued with sinewy softness. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already. You came in the company of my nephew. That alone makes you worthy of interest. But the girl has a mystic's blood in her veins, and you have a black cloud around your soul. I would hear you out before I make a decision as to what to do about you."

When Khalid still did not lower his sword, Artan turned to look him in the eye. "I promise no harm will come to Shahrzad while we're here." Solemnity hardened his expression. "On my father's grave, I swear it."

Isuke's shoulders stiffened.

Artan's promise had offended her. Or intrigued her. Shahrzad could not be certain. But neither possibility gave her much reassurance.

Yet it appeared Khalid was not of the same mind. He returned Artan's unflinching stare for a time, and-just when Shahrzad had decided the situation had taken a turn for the worse-Khalid relaxed. The muscles along his jaw ceased to ripple.

His sword fell to his side.

"Why have you brought them, son of Tolu?" Isuke's voice had gone even softer. Dangerously so. The flint in her eyes darkened to obsidian. "And why are you making such promises on their behalf?"

"The boy is cursed, Aunt Isuke. They want your help to rid him of it, as well as to find a means to restore her father's health." Artan paused. "I would consider it a favor to me if you would hear them out."

"A favor?"

"Yes."

"They are that important to you?" Isuke glanced back at Shahrzad with renewed interest.

"I told you: they are my friends." Artan hesitated for the barest of instants. "And they may possess . . . knowledge of my parents' misdeeds."

Though it was carefully worded on Artan's part, Shahrzad started at this revelation. Khalid eyed Artan, his expression darkening.

A strange flash of emotion passed across Isuke's face. It was gone before Shahrzad could place it. "Very well. As a favor to you, I will hear them out." Her features hardened. "But I expect the same courtesy when I make a request of you in the future."

Artan gave her a curt bow in response. Then Shahrzad took a position on the woven rushes opposite Isuke, with Artan kneeling to her left. She glanced up at Khalid expectantly, and he finally sat beside her, his shamshir close.

The sorceress listened as Shahrzad relayed the sad tale of Ava and Khalid. Of their arranged marriage and the heartbreaking loss of their child. Of Ava's desolation and eventual death. Of Ava's father luring Khalid to his home, where he took his own life in exchange for the dark magic to enact the curse upon Khalid.

When Shahrzad finished, she turned to Khalid. In a terse voice, he recited the curse's terms, sharing how he had begun to fulfill it, but could no longer be subjugated to the whims of a vengeful madman.

The entire time, the sorceress's only reaction was the same birdlike tilt of her head. When they were done, she removed a sheaf of papers from her desk with calculating slowness.

"A curse is payment for a debt owed-a deal made, however unfairly," Isuke began. "In this case, a man's life was given as payment for its magic. If the magic is to be rendered powerless, an offering of equal weight must be made."

"Then . . . I must die." Khalid spoke as though he were resigned.

As though he had expected it.

Every muscle in Shahrzad's body pulled tight. A litany of protests formed in her throat.

Isuke's mouth curved downward in what she must have considered a smile. "No. I did not say that. If it were that simple-a life for a life-this curse would have ended many dawns ago. Curses are rarely that simple." She placed an oval mirror the size of two hands on the table. Then she laid both palms beside it.

The mirror seemed to rise of its own volition. It turned to reflect Shahrzad and Khalid before it began to spin very slowly, as though it were hanging from the ceiling on an invisible string.

"I am saying," Isuke continued, "that magic mirrors itself, both in power and intent. Like every mirror, all magic has a dark side. A side that can be tricked into seeing what it wishes to see." For a moment, she seemed amused by her own words. "In magic and in life, deceit is often the best way to defeat one's enemies."

The mirror spun. Slowly. Lazily. It flashed silver as it met Shahrzad's face, before catching Khalid's reflection. Then the mirror's dark side passed, whirling around in another play of light and shadow.

Shahrzad blinked. When she glanced to her right, she noticed Khalid's brow had furrowed in concentration. As though the mirror had become a complex riddle he intended to solve.

Isuke's voice faded to a languid drone. "Thus, if you wish to determine an appropriate counterpoint for this curse, you must delve beneath its surface."

I don't . . . understand.

The revolving mirror caught Shahrzad's attention once more. Flashing before making another slow turn. Light and dark. Shahrzad, then Khalid. Again. And again.

Shahrzad grew dizzy. The scent of lemons and mint filled her nostrils and spread into her chest. Her eyelids began to droop. A heaviness slid around her like a second skin, as though she were on the verge of falling asleep. Or drifting in that space between dreams, where she was aware of what was happening around her, but had no control over it.

In that moment of suspended weightlessness, an unwanted presence entered her mind.

It was as though a hooded figure had ambled into the haze of her bedchamber, rummaging through her things like a thief in the night. When it failed to find what it was looking for, it turned in her direction.

Shahrzad gasped.

It did not have a face. Where there should have been features was instead a blank oval of ivory, like a polished eggshell. The faceless intruder glided toward her, then led her into a misty corridor, glancing through open doors to its left and right.

The rooms within were filled with Shahrzad's memories. All the times she'd fought with Shiva or Irsa. Made a point to return Rahim's good-natured grumbling. Listened to her mother recite stories. Disappeared for a stolen embrace with Tariq. Read books alongside her father. Cried alone in her room.

The intruder dwelt on some of the moments she'd shared with Khalid. Many of the nights she'd told him tales by lamplight. Contended with him over matters of the heart, while tearing bread into tiny pieces. All the times she'd kissed him-in darkened alleys and behind veils of shimmering gossamer. The interloper lingered for a spell on their first kiss in the souk.

As though it had come to the same understanding as they had in that instant.

Her intruder soon developed a keen interest in any memory of her father. It watched without eyes as Jahandar presented Shahrzad with the single budding rose from his garden, the afternoon she'd first come to the palace at Rey. It leaned in closer-eager-while Jahandar coaxed the rose to life, only to bring it past death with an unwitting turn of his wrist.

After that, the intruder searched with purpose through the misty hallways for Jahandar al-Khayzuran. Soon, it came across the memory of the day before, when Shahrzad had pressed her father for information on what had transpired the night of the storm in Rey.

On what Jahandar had done to his hands. To his hair. To Irsa's horse.

To the very storm itself.

His eyes aflame, Jahandar had shown her the book he'd kept pressed to his chest all this time. He'd removed a black key from around his neck.

And unlocked the tome . . .

To shine a slow-spreading silver light upon his face.

From beyond the white haze, the faceless intruder reached a cold hand to tightly clench Shahrzad's wrist.

Tightly enough to draw pain.

Shahrzad stifled a cry.

"Aunt Isuke!" Artan thundered. "That's enough!"

The sound of broken glass scattered the weightless drift in Shahrzad's mind, bringing everything back into stuttering focus.

Her eyes flashed open. She was brought out of a world of hazy white smoke.

The first thing she noticed was the imprint of a hand on her wrist. Red and throbbing and real. Shahrzad blinked hard. When she glanced up, her heart plummeted into her stomach.

Both Khalid and Artan were on their feet.

Khalid's sword had been hurled across the room. It was embedded in a far wall at an odd angle, its jeweled hilt still shuddering from impact.

Isuke's ominous mirror was in pieces around them.

Shahrzad knew Khalid had shattered it. Somehow, he had managed to break whatever control the sorceress had over him and had destroyed her mirror in an attempt to stop her. In response, the sorceress had flung Khalid's sword far out of reach.

Now Artan stood between Khalid and his aunt.

He did nothing while his aunt stole into my mind. Where do Artan Temujin's loyalties lie?

She initially thought Artan had stepped between Khalid and his aunt to prevent Khalid from attacking her.

But Shahrzad realized she might have been mistaken. Artan seemed inclined to side with them, not with his aunt. His back was to Khalid, and only a fool would turn his back on his enemy. Artan was not a fool. At this moment, his expression revealed a complicated mixture of resolve and remorse. As though Artan knew he had erred.

So Artan had not stepped before Khalid to stop him; he had stepped before him to save him.

He had chosen to side with a boy he barely knew over his own family.

But why?

Shahrzad's gaze drifted to the sorceress seated across from her.

It's clear Isuke meant to rob me of my thoughts. To what purpose?

The sorceress remained with her back as straight as an arrow and her hands upon the table. Unapologetic.

"You promised," Artan said, his voice laden with accusation. "You promised it would be nothing more than a search for the book. You prom-"

"I did not make any promises." Isuke's reply bordered on serene, despite its biting undertone. "You did. In any case, the girl is not hurt."

"You're lying," Khalid replied in a savage whisper. "She cried out."

"I'm not hurt. I was . . . startled," Shahrzad said. "But I demand to know-"

"Your demands are of little consequence to me," Isuke interrupted. "But the book your father has-he cannot be allowed to keep it."

Confusion settled across Shahrzad's brow. "I don't understand. Is it the reason my father-"

"Your father's wounds will heal in time. But he has unleashed something much more destructive on your world." The only change in the sorceress's affect was a shift in eye color, from flint to obsidian, then back again. "If you destroy the book for me, I will lift the curse from the boy you love so dearly. I will render its debt repaid."

Though Shahrzad longed to ask all the questions collecting in her mind, she chose the most pressing one. "Why must the book be destroyed?"

Shahrzad had to know the sorceress's reasons, for she did not trust her motivations. Nor did she have any intention of trusting someone who knew everything about her and had yet to offer anything in return.

Isuke paused in consideration of her. "That book offers nothing but tragedy to its bearer. You should be proud to bring about its demise."

"Forgive me, but that's not an answer," Shahrzad said in equally cutting fashion. "What does this book have to do with you?"

"My reasons should not matter so long as you achieve your goals, but I will say this: the book involves Artan's parents. When you destroy it, you will free him of their debts."

"These debts-of what sort are they?" Khalid said, looking Artan's way.

"That book has brought about untold suffering and destruction. Death in its most grievous form," Isuke answered, her eyes flashing. "When it was gifted to a foolish king many years ago, we thought it had been lost and were glad of it. Now I would have it gone, once and for all."

Her mind brimming with suspicion, Shahrzad studied the birdlike woman across from her. "If you now know where the book is, why would you not destroy it yourself?"

Isuke almost smiled. "As I learned from entering your thoughts, you are not as big a fool as I first surmised."

"No." Artan laughed, though he did not sound the least bit amused. "She is not."

"I cannot destroy this book," Isuke confessed. "Nor can any member of my family. It is a book fashioned from the magic running through our veins. Blood freely given must be what destroys it. But it cannot be our blood."

"So it must be mine." Shahrzad nodded in grim understanding. "And I must do it willingly."

"No," Khalid interjected, the angles of his profile sharpening even further. "I will not-"

Shahrzad turned toward Khalid, prepared to meet him with resistance of her own. "If there is a way to break the curse, then I will do it. And you will not stop me."

"Shazi-"

"This is not your choice to make, Khalid. It is mine, and mine alone."

"It is your choice to do as you please." His hands balled into fists. "Just as it is mine. There is no cause for you to go about this alone and-"

"The choice does in fact lie with you, boy." Isuke's mouth curled downward again as she summoned her strange smile. "For, ultimately, you must be the one to destroy the book, as the curse resides within you. The girl must steal it from her father, along with the key to open it. Then she must deliver them to you, so that you may destroy the book and put an end to your curse."

Shahrzad bit her lower lip. "And-how must he go about doing that?"

"The curse was a curse paid for in blood," Isuke replied. "So blood must be paid in kind. Both now and at the time of the book's destruction. But you needn't worry; the blood offering is significant in meaning, not in quantity. And first I will need a way to carry it out . . ." She eyed the blade at Shahrzad's waist. "Give me your dagger, girl."

With reluctance, Shahrzad passed her dagger to the sorceress. Isuke unsheathed the blade and began muttering to herself. The metal took on a white-hot glow. As the sorceress continued whispering in a tongue that sounded vaguely familiar to Shahrzad, tiny symbols began working their way around the blade.

Once the symbols had managed to sustain their eerie glow, Isuke shifted her gaze to Khalid. "Give me your hand."

Shahrzad's teeth stayed on edge as Khalid extended his palm. He did not flinch as Isuke used the glowing blade to slice a thin gash above the existing one. As the drops of crimson struck the dagger's surface, the metal changed from a white-hot blue to a fiery red. It pulsed with a heartbeat of its own, its symbols rippling with the light of a passing star.

Everything around them darkened with the same sudden intensity.

Her face devoid of emotion, Isuke wiped the blood away and restored the blade to its jeweled sheath. She started to return the dagger to Shahrzad, but did not relinquish her hold on it.

When Shahrzad's hand brushed across the metal sheath, it felt as cold as death.