Princess of Smoke (2020 Reissue) Read online

  Lalana coughed as Tarak disappeared in a puff of scented lilac smoke, then reappeared in the form of a gleaming white horse, his long mane falling in soft curls down to his legs, his hooves shining as though they were made of real gold. A rich, red cushion sat on his back, more jewels glittering in the saddle.

  I dropped my head into my hands. “I have a horse, thank y–”

  “Not enough?” Tarak disappeared again, then reappeared in a flurry of white feathers.

  I stared at the white ostrich looking beadily back at me, huge white plumes protruding from his back like a giant fan, his beak shining and golden. He raised his wings, displaying yet more proud white plumage, his feathers dazzling even in the weak daylight edging through the curtains.

  “Tarak–”

  “Still not enough?”

  The scent of frankincense was overwhelming this time, the purple clouds rolling out to fill the whole pavilion.

  I barely had a moment to take in the swell of gray, leathery skin before the sound of cracking furniture split the air and I leapt from my chair, scrambling back as Tarak’s bulk pressed into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand and one pieces.

  The floor shuddered as elephant-Tarak shuffled around to face me, his trunk curling around the stem of a flower and offering it to Lalana, who laughed as she accepted it from him.

  An elephant, really?

  Lisha burst back into the pavilion, her knives drawn, her face contorted into a furious snarl. Her hands dropped to her side again as she took in the elephant before us. “I saw smoke and… Sorcerer’s beard, Zadie.” Her gaze shot to Lalana. “Have you got no control over this spirit at all?”

  I took a step back, looking up at the djinni. “Tarak, how am I going to explain this?” I hissed, gesturing frantically to the splintered dressers, the crushed divans, the torn drapes. “I asked the handmaids to leave so I could talk to Lalana. What are they going to think we’ve been doing?”

  The elephant’s face split into a smile that made me even more nervous, its trunk curling up. “How about–”

  “Spirits, Tarak, stop! I don’t need any kind of mount!”

  The elephant let out a disappointed trumpet and disappeared in a cloud of lilac.

  A second later, Tarak reappeared back in his guard form, slinking closer to Lalana. “Message received. You don’t want to arrive in style at your own wedding. So be it.”

  Lisha let out a growl. “I’ll let the others know you’re both okay. Jevera almost came running in here herself.” She wheeled around and stalked back out of the pavilion.

  I looked around the pavilion in despair. “Tarak, you need to fix this, now.”

  The djinni inched closer to Lalana, completely ignoring my orders. He looked appraisingly at her flowing lilac robes. “Have I told you I like your dress, princess? Brings out my eyes. We’d make quite the matching set, don’t you think?”

  A cloud of smoke swirled around him again, and his guard uniform was replaced by a set of purple silk robes, edged with gold filigree, amethysts shining at his cuffs.

  I breathed in slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose as I prepared to launch into a lecture about Tarak propositioning my sister right when thoughts about her own wedding must be raging around her mind.

  Then I stopped. Lalana was looking at Tarak with a soft expression, the corners of her mouth curving up.

  I hesitated, looking between the princess and the djinni, a thin thread of tension running between the two of them.

  If Tarak’s weird sense of humor is helping her, I should let it go.

  “I’m glad you noticed,” Lalana said with a faint smile. “You were the reason I dressed in purple today, actually.”

  What?

  Tarak looked just as confused.

  “Now will you do as Zadie asks and help clear up this mess?”

  “Of course.” Instantly Tarak dropped back and began brushing the shards of mirror into a pile with his foot.

  Lalana turned to me, holding my arm and leading me away slightly. “Zadie, there’s something I want to ask you about.”

  I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my annoyance that Tarak only seemed to obey Lalana. “Of course, Lana.”

  “How...how is a spirit bound to an object?”

  I frowned at the unexpected question. “Well,” I began, “a sorcerer uses a spirit’s real name to do it. The spell summons them from the spirit world, and ties them to an object of the sorcerer’s choosing, tethering them here.”

  “So they’re a slave, right? All spirits are here against their will?”

  My gaze slid to Tarak, who had paused picking up the splintered pieces of the divan and was standing very still as Lalana voiced her questions. He said nothing though, allowing me to speak. For a change.

  “I suppose so, yes.” I swallowed, trying to joke, “Although Tarak did once try to tell me that we had an enduring and respectful relationship. When it was me wearing the ring, of course.”

  Lalana looked down at the ring on her finger and I cringed as I followed her gaze to her broken fingers, the bandages around her palms.

  “It doesn’t seem fair. That they’re forced to grant us anything we wish for.”

  “Is there something else you want to wish for, Lalana?” I asked tentatively. “Believe me, Tarak has his own ways of getting out of granting a wish if he doesn’t want to do it…”

  She tilted her hand, and her ring caught the light, the amethyst sparkling.

  Tarak moved closer again, tenderly lifting her ruined hands, his violet eyes narrowed, his face tight. “It would be my honor to grant you anything you wished for, princess.”

  The corners of Lalana’s lips lifted into a smile. “You’ve already done more than enough for me.”

  Tarak frowned as his gaze shifted from Lalana’s hands to the red line across her neck, brushing his fingers softly over her collarbones. “I let that assassin hurt you,” he said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t stop him in time. I should have turned into my leopard form and torn him limb from limb–”

  “But you knew the audience would call me a sorceress, so you didn’t.”

  The djinni’s cheeks grew rosy.

  “And now, it’s my turn to do something for you…”

  I looked at Lalana in alarm. What does that mean?

  “I did dress in purple for you, Tarak.” Lalana turned back to the djinni. “To celebrate your freedom.”

  Tarak stared at her warily, like a snake charmed by its master.

  “Tarak,” she said softly, “I wish you were free.”

  My heart stuttered in my chest, and I took an involuntary step forward. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, feeling like I was intruding on something between the two of them.

  Tarak just stared at Lalana, an unreadable expression on his face. “What did you say?”

  My sister just smiled, then yelped as the ring grew hot on her finger, violet smoke pouring from it.

  I lurched forward, frantically tearing off the bandages and pulling the ring from her finger. I let out a low hiss as I touched the searing metal, dropping it straight to the floor as soon as I had worked it over Lalana’s swollen knuckle. Her finger now bore a band of pink to match the pale ring of skin on my own.

  The ring rolled to a stop on the floor.

  I twisted to look back at Tarak. The djinni’s feet had already turned to smoke, lilac clouds billowing in the air as he began to dissolve, his tether to the human world melting away.

  In a blur of violet smoke, he floated to Lalana’s side, pushing back her hair to whisper something into her ear.

  Lalana’s honey eyes widened.

  Then the djinni turned to face me, his body dissolving faster now, his human form rapidly replaced by glowing wisps of smoke and fire that caught and curled in the breeze.

  “I hope the sultan doesn’t change his mind.” Tarak grinned. “Y’know, I think you’d make an okay sultanah.”

  My heart squeezed in my chest, painful tears pricking at my eyes
.

  “Listen, Zadie–”

  But before he could finish, Tarak was gone, disappearing into a plume of violet smoke before being swept out between the curtains, like sand carried on the wind. A wave of frankincense washed over me, tinged with something else… a different heady smell, like musk? But perhaps I was just imagining it.

  My heart twisted as the djinni vanished. I hadn’t even said goodbye to him....

  I looked down at the pale ring of skin on my finger. Will we ever see him again?

  I couldn’t bring myself to look up at Lalana. “What did he say to you?” I asked, still reeling from everything that had just happened.

  “His true name,” Lalana said faintly, staring out the window after him with a look of longing on her face. “He told me his true name.”

  Before we could reflect on this any further, Jevera swept back into the pavilion.

  “What is going on in here?” she hissed, her face pale and pinched with temper. She cast a look around the room, taking in the scene of destruction. She sucked in her cheeks. “We leave you alone for five minutes…” Her eyes flicked to me, critically taking in my rumpled dress, the curls already escaping her earlier handiwork.

  Mehri appeared at her shoulder, then let out a low wail as she saw the mirror smashed on the floor. “Oh, Princess Zadie, don’t you know that’s bad luck? And right before your wedding!”

  Lisha and the rest of the handmaids trickled in behind her, stopping to stare at the mirror and whispering in hushed voices.

  My gaze returned to the shards of mirror sparkling on the floor and a wave of misgiving washed over me.

  But it had nothing to do with superstition, and everything to do with losing the djinni’s protection so close to the wedding.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “It’s really quite extraordinary what happened to your sister.” Sultanah Farideh held out her goblet to be refilled by one of the many servants fluttering around the reception room with large ewers of wine.

  White-and-gold banners billowed from the high ceilings, and with the soft hiss of rain on the roof, the immense, guest-filled room actually felt quite cozy in the lantern light.

  “However,” she continued, adjusting the emerald green silks stitched with bronze thread that bared her trim midriff. “From what Diyan has told me of your Royal Vizier, it sounds entirely in character.”

  Next to his mother, Prince Diyan shuffled on the spot and made a non-committal noise. I noticed he had a book tucked under his arm, no doubt waiting for the next opportunity to slip away somewhere and read it.

  Out of all the guests in the reception room, I was most excited to meet the Sultanah of Nahraj. In her fifties, she was a tall, intelligent woman with sharp eyes and a quick tongue. Twin sections of silver hair were pinned back from her face, while the rest of her midnight locks cascaded down to the backs of her knees.

  “I’m very lucky to have my sister back.”

  We both gazed over to the opposite side of the throne room, where Lalana, dressed in her purple gown, was surrounded by my family, all three of Kassim’s sisters, and the real Prince Cao, who looked identical to the spirit-imitation I’d met previously.

  “If you listen to court gossip, you’re apparently very lucky to still be engaged to the sultan, what with your elder sister’s sudden return,” Sultanah Farideh observed, her shrewd gaze never leaving my sister. “She’s just as charming and beautiful as the tales. I’ve heard more than a few whispers Kassim will re-establish the original betrothal.”

  My eyes snapped to the older woman to find her already looking at me. Her words, although delivered mildly, stung.

  A smattering of applause floated up in the distance, then the soft, warbling notes of Lalana’s voice rang out through the room, accompanied by a simple melody played by Prince Cao, who had somehow sourced a lute.

  “Lalana is very talented at many things,” I replied, my throat a little tight.

  “You know, I knew Kassim’s mother, Nayana, well. She was also a beautiful singer and raised all of her children with a love of music and song.”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice to reply. Even Sultanah Farideh, a woman who ruled her queendom alone, and who had fueled my dreams of becoming a sultanah one day myself, thought Lalana was better suited to the Astarian royal bloodline.

  Did everyone apart from the sultan think Lalana was the better choice?

  “However,” the sultanah continued, playing with the large, emerald-studded discs hanging from her ears, “I’ve not found charming guests to be a requisite to ruling my country. Nor has being tone deaf ever held me back from being a fine sultanah.”

  Prince Diyan smiled at me from his mother’s side. “I told Mother all about you from our time together.” He untucked the book from beneath his arm. It was bound in glossy leather, the title embossed in what looked like real gold. “This is my mother’s personal copy of Sultanah Bena’s Manifesto on Kingdom Alliances. It’s your wedding gift.”

  I took the book from his hands in stunned silence.

  “From what Diyan has told me of you, you’ve probably already read it.”

  “It’s a favorite of mine. But this edition is stunning.” I turned the book over in my hands. “Thank you.”

  “Zadie.” Sultanah Farideh put a hand on my shoulder. “A great sultanah has many traits, but strength, wisdom, and compassion are by far the most important.” Her dark eyes flicked over my shoulder and narrowed. “I wish you luck, but if you’ll excuse me, I think now is perhaps the best time for us to leave you to entertain your other guests.”

  With a frown, I turned to see what had caught her attention, only to be faced with two people garbed in so many jewels I was momentarily blinded. Prince Rishi, one of Safiyya’s rejected suitors from the tournament a few months ago, swept his yellow cloak across his shoulders.

  “Princess Zadie, I don’t believe you’ve met my dazzling new bride,” he drawled, waving his arm at Princess Makani like she was a prize camel.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mak smiled and swept into a curtsey, the tiny gems on her flowing pants twinkling in the light. Her high ponytail was fastened with a thick cuff of gold, and her earlobes dragged under the weight of the cascading jewels strung from them.

  “Likewise, princess.” I returned the gesture with a small smile. Rishi had no idea Mak and I had met in her home of Hidu just a few weeks ago. Or that we’d faced molten caves, wild rocs, and enemy armies together. Despite our shared adventures, I wasn’t sure if Mak was even a friend, but I liked the princess far more than her current betrothed.

  “I feel quite lucky actually.” Rishi flicked his deep yellow cape over his shoulder. “Now I can see them in the same room, Princess Makani possesses ten times the beauty of Princess Safiyya. And she’s a woman, rather than a girl.” His eyes fell shamelessly on her breasts. “Our nuptials will be taking place imminently.”

  I pressed down the irritation flickering in my chest. “Princess Safiyya is soon to be my sister-in-law,” I replied brightly. “I think she chose the correct prince. However, I do agree that Princess Makani looks as exquisite as the jewels she wears.”

  “She is a jewel personified.” Rishi leered at his betrothed with a too-wide smile. “And I dare say the most beautiful woman in the room…” His eyes scanned the crowd, as if to verify his claim.

  Rishi’s gaze settled on my sister singing in the background, a crowd gathered around her. “Well,” he mused out loud. “Perhaps the second most beautiful… Your sister is quite the rare beauty, Princess Zadie. You mustn’t be too upset Kassim has chosen to honor the original betrothal.”

  My body tensed. “Actually, Prince Rishi, Kassim and I are still to be wed.”

  Rishi tore his eyes from my sister. “Really? That’s not what everyone’s saying.” He shook his head in disbelief. “He’s upholding a match to a younger sister when he’s quite within his right to have the first? As a man of royal blood, I find that hard to believe.”

  I clutch
ed the book behind my back, my nails pressing into the leather. I’d quite like to shed some of Rishi’s royal blood right onto the marble beneath his slippered feet. “Perhaps you’ll believe it tomorrow when you witness our wedding with your own two eyes,” I replied, my teeth bared in a smile.

  Rishi wouldn’t be so openly rude when I was sultanah of an entire kingdom. Even when he was married, he would still only be a prince-in-waiting to his own throne.

  “Now Lalana’s back on the market, Kassim’s loss will be another’s gain.” He stroked the sparse hairs on his chin thoughtfully.

  Mak’s eyes snapped to her betrothed, as if she, too, was considering smacking him around the face. Instead, her hand tapped the huge ruby around her neck.

  “It looks like Prince Cao already seems very interested,” she purred, slinking slightly closer to Rishi’s side. “One of the unattached princes in attendance will no doubt speak to the Sultan of Khiridesh before the evening’s out.”

  “If you’ll excuse me.” I touched Mak’s arm, before taking the opportunity to escape the last in a long line of awkward conversations I had during the evening.

  When we’d announced Lalana’s return earlier, I thought we’d been clear about the situation. But, just as Kassim’s sister Kira had predicted, almost every royal guest here seemed to be confused as to which sister would be marrying the sultan.

  Everyone clapped as Lalana finished her impromptu performance. I slipped past Safiyya and grabbed Kassim by the arm, tugging him to one side.

  “Can’t keep your hands off me?” He twined his fingers with mine, his amber eyes dancing in the lantern light. “Tomorrow night we can leave the celebration early, but tonight, I’m afraid we’ll have to stay to entertain our guests.”

  I chewed my lip, glancing back over my shoulder to where Lalana laughed and joked with Auriya and Safiyya.

  “What’s wrong?” Kassim’s fingers slid underneath my chin and turned my head back to him.

  “Nothing,” I lied, then instantly remembered my promise not to keep anything else from him. I sighed. “Everything. Everyone seems to think you’ll marry Lalana now she’s back. I’m trying not to let it bother me, but I came pretty close to smacking Prince Rishi with my new book.” I gestured aggressively with it, and Kassim took a step back. “How can people talk about me like I’m so disposable? They’re here for our wedding. Me and you. Not the Sultan of Astaran and whichever princess takes his whim on the day.”