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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ZAHRA

Z ahra vaguely heard echoes, distant, warped voices carried on the wind. Closer to her, soft giggles drifted through the haze. Her heavy eyelids fluttered open, vision swimming with blurry shadows and flickers of light. Her mouth was dry. The giggles came again, closer this time.

Zahra groaned and forced herself upright, her fingers brushing the rough, splintered surface of the table beneath her. Pain stabbed through her ribs as her hand flew to the bandages wrapped tightly around her torso. Every breath came shallow, but strangely, the pain wasn’t as sharp as it should have been. Whoever had treated her had done more than the ordinary, but she was alive and able to move, that was all that mattered.

"Praise be the Creator," she whispered.

Her gaze darted around the room. She’d never seen this place before. Bottles, bloodied cloths, and jars of what looked like ointments were scattered everywhere. Where was she? Apparently, the criminals had succeeded in rescuing and saving her.

Where was she? Zahra’s eyes scanned for a door, a window, any way out. But even if she ran, where would she go?

Her stomach twisted at the thought. Her master tailors would never take her back, not after this. And even if she managed to scrape together her meager savings, it wouldn’t be enough for the journey to Tulindor. The shame hit her harder than the pain. She couldn’t go home either. Not to her parents. They were already struggling to feed her siblings, four mouths to feed, and she would only be adding a fifth. She had ruined everything, stolen their chance at receiving extra rations. Her mother’s face flashed in her mind, weary and disappointed, and her father’s silence weighed heavier than words.

Zahra gritted her teeth. No. She’d promised herself she would only return when she had enough money to pull her family out of misery and spare her sisters the hell of being sent to Eldoria. Until then, she didn’t deserve to see their faces.

Something struck her shoulder, jolting her from the spiral of guilt. She flinched, her hand darting out to catch it, a stone. Another clattered to the floor, then two more hit her head before Zahra finally looked up.

Two children perched in the high branches of a tree, giggling with mischievous delight. Their laughter cut through the haze in her mind. Zahra blinked at them, startled. Then, despite herself, she smiled. Adorable little brats. The twins giggled, before pointing to their left in unison.

Zahra hesitated, then followed the direction they indicated. A warm glow spilled from the edges of a nearby doorway. The giggles faded behind her, replaced by the low murmur of voices ahead. She stopped just at the doorway, pressing herself into the shadows. Ahead, she saw the others gathered around a long table cluttered with scrolls, near a fireplace, deep in what appeared to be a serious discussion.

“There are five fragments of the divine map leading to the sapphire,” said Jessalyn. She pointed to a piece of parchment. “Here is one, which I recovered long ago.”

“Dax and I found one as well,” Irene said, leaning forward.

“That means the king now has two,” Blade added.

“We need a quick and discreet way to get in and steal them,” said Irene. “Javier. Javier! Any ideas?”

Javier jolted awake, blinking as he clutched his bottle.

“There’s the royal ball in a few days,” he drawled, his words dripping with mockery. “Good luck sneaking in.” He let out a low chuckle, tipping the bottle toward Irene in a half-hearted toast.

“I know someone who can get us in,” Blade interrupted. “I’ll find her tomorrow.”

“Good,” Jessalyn began, her tone even and commanding. “As soon as the Tuli?—”

“Her name is Zahra,” Blade corrected sharply.

At her name, Zahra stiffened. Javier tilted his head, his lips curling as he whispered her name under his breath, tasting it like something forbidden. His eyes flicked toward the shadows where she stood, and Zahra’s stomach twisted. Their gazes locked.

For a moment, she thought he would call her out, but he didn’t. He just smiled. A slow smile that sent a shiver crawling up her spine.

Jessalyn sighed. “Fine. As soon as this Zahra wakes up, give her the ashes and set her to work. Let’s decipher this first map.”

Zahra’s chest tightened. Her hand curled into a fist as she forced herself to step forward.

“I won’t help you,” she said. The room went still. Every head turned toward her.

Lan, sitting near the fireplace, stood immediately. “You’re awake!” he said. Zahra barely had time to respond before Irene stepped toward her. “You think you have a choice, little saint?”

Jessalyn cut in, stepping between them. “Enough.” She turned to her and held out the fragment of the map. “Can you read this?”

Zahra hesitated, her gaze flicking between Jessalyn and the map. Slowly she took it.

Her fingers brushed the worn parchment, her eyes tracing the faded lines and symbols. A memory surfaced unbidden: her father’s patient voice guiding her as she sat at the supper table, candlelight flickering over maps spread out before her. He’d taught her to read maps first, then the old dialect of their people. The tongue of her grandparents and great-grandparents.

She traced the lines with her finger, the symbols swimming under the firelight. They danced. Then they vanished.

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak. “The visible lines and words are written in Tuli,” she murmured. “But not the kind spoken today. An ancient dialect…”

The room was silent, everyone watching her with sharp, expectant eyes. Zahra understood the words, but each one required effort, her mind working twice as hard to unravel their meaning.

Jessalyn nodded slowly, her composure faltering for just a moment. Her hand trembled as she clenched her cane tighter. “She can read,” she said, her voice carrying a strange note of emotion like relief.

Irene exhaled sharply. Zahra’s jaw tightened, her voice rising. “That doesn’t mean I’ll help you! I won’t take part in something harmful!” she continued. “These words were written by my ancestors, hidden to protect something sacred, to prevent its misuse. They wouldn’t want me to use their knowledge for evil!”

Irene slammed her fist on the table. “Your ancestors are dead!” she spat.

“And how dare you dishonor their memory?” Zahra shot back.

Lan stepped forward. “We all need to calm down. You’re still tired?—”

“Enough!” Jessalyn’s voice cut through the room.

Javier, leaning lazily against the table, chuckled and took a swig of rum. “In a moment, we’re going to get an epic speech,” he muttered under his breath, pointing at Jessalyn. Blade shot him a withering glare.

Jessalyn stepped forward. “Listen carefully, young lady. In this world, there is no true good or evil. There are only choices. The choices that will determine whether you rise or whether you’re ground into dust beneath the gilded heels of those who feast on the labor of others.”

Zahra took a step back. “I can’t risk everything to help you,” she said, her voice breaking. “Not while my people in Tulindor are being massacred for far less.”

Jessalyn’s voice softened, but her intensity only grew. “Our world is vast, Zahra,” she said, her words slow and deliberate. “Far greater than the sweat on your brow and the pain in your ribs. It hums with the whispers of ancient gods and their stories. And among all these legends, one shines brighter than the rest, a truth leading to a divine treasure. A treasure your ancestors fought to protect.”

She paused, her gaze unwavering.

“Out there, a greedy king wants to defile it,” Jessalyn continued, her tone sharp as a dagger. “This sapphire, a gift from the goddess your people cherished, is more than a relic. It’s a light in the dark, a power that can restore balance to our world. It can tear wealth from the hands of those who hoard it and give it back to the ones who need it. It can break the chains you’ve lived with all your life”.

“So no, Zahra. In life, we don’t beg for a fraction of freedom. We don’t grovel for scraps. We fight for all of it.”

The words hit her like a wave, leaving her heart racing and chest tight under Jessalyn’s piercing gaze. She wanted to deny it all, but her eyes fell to the map fragment in her hands. Her thumb traced the faded lines. “This treasure… this sapphire. If I help you decipher the maps leading to it, will I get my share?”

Jessalyn’s lips curled into a smirk. “Of course. We won’t restore the world’s balance out of charity.” She turned to the others. “You’ll all get your share! But you’ll need to listen carefully to the plan.”

The group turned back to the table. Jessalyn and Blade resumed their discussion.

Lan approached Zahra, smiling. “Thank you for saving me,” she told him.

He handed her a small vial filled with a dark, oily liquid. “Drink this. It’ll help with your healing, and the pain.”

Zahra hesitated but accepted it, wincing as the bitter liquid slid down her throat.

“I couldn’t let my cellmate and new friend die, could I?” Lan said lightly, his smile soft but sincere.

Before Zahra could reply, Irene and Javier sauntered over.

“Where did you learn all that?” Irene asked, her tone sharp but curious. “The healing, I mean.”

“In Fennor,” Lan said simply. “I worked for men of science, anyone who paid me, really. I hopped from ship to ship until I ended up in this cursed city.”

Irene studied him for a long moment, her frown unreadable. Lan cleared his throat, his voice steady but edged with hope. “I know you haven’t promised me anything, but… I want to join you. I can be useful. I want to leave this place, where people like me are either imprisoned or enslaved. I need gold to go where I want, and I’ll work for it. Let me be part of your crew.”

Irene raised an eyebrow. "In Fennor, by any chance, did you learn how to make things explode?"

Lan’s lips curved into a smile. “With the right ingredients, it’d be child’s play.”

“Good thing there’s all kinds of powders here,” Javier laughed, clapping Lan on the shoulder.

“Welcome aboard, Lan,” Irene said with a smirk before turning away.

Javier lingered, his grin mischievous as he winked at Zahra. “Welcome to you too, darling.”

Zahra felt heat rise to her cheeks, letting out a nervous laugh as he strolled away after Irene.

In the distance, their voices drifted back to her.

“You’re not the captain! It’s my job to say welcome!” Irene snapped.

“My apologies, Captain!” Javier called back dramatically, bowing low with an exaggerated flourish. His laugh rang out, carefree and mocking.

“If this sapphire really exists…” Zahra murmured, more to herself than anyone else, “…maybe it’s worth the risk.”

Lan didn’t reply, but his quiet, understanding gaze said enough.