The sight of those wings, torn to shreds, hanging down Parvaneh’s back.
Soraya flinched away from him with a vehemence that surprised them both. The vividness of her memory paired with the visceral touch of Azad’s hands on her spine had made her react, as if hers were the wings he had torn.
She had spun to face him, and they stared at each other now in mutual confusion. Soraya could still feel the pressure of his touch along her spine, but it only made her think of being in the dungeon, of wanting to brush her fingertips against Parvaneh’s spine as she carefully stitched her wings back together, repairing what Azad had destroyed.
And he had destroyed so much. She thought of Parvaneh, of the other pariks sleeping in cages, of her mother as a terrified child confronting a monster in the forest, of Laleh’s ruined wedding and her brother on his knees … and she wondered how she could have ever trusted Azad to absolve her of anything.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Azad said, his voice hoarse.
She felt like she was waking from a dream, the world taking solid shape around her. “I’m sorry,” she said, edging away from the window, so she wouldn’t be cornered. “I need time to think.”
Her plea sounded like the stall for time that it was, and so he tensed with frustration as he nodded. “I understand,” he said, coming forward to close the gap between them. “But I can’t leave your brother alive for much longer, Soraya.” He was backing her toward the fireplace now, and she looked behind her anxiously as she tried to think of how to further placate him. “I need you to make your choice.”
There was a cold glint in his eye, and Soraya almost thought he was going to transform again. But he remained human, and just as she had once been startled to see the eyes of the boy in the Shahmar, she now saw the eyes of the monster in Azad.
The gulf is not as wide as you think. It had been a plea when he’d said it before, but she heard it now as a threat.
“It’s not my choice,” she said, her voice strained, “when I’m still your prisoner.”
With a dismissive shake of his head, he said, “You’re not a prisoner, Soraya.”
His tone made her bristle. “I’m not a prisoner? Because I’m not locked up in a cage hanging from a tree? Because you said I can now move freely through Arzur? As long as you have my family, I’m under your control and you know it.”
She swept past him and headed toward his door, ready for this night to end. But as she started to pull open the door, a powerful, scaled hand pushed it shut, trapping her inside. Soraya turned to find the Shahmar standing over her, transformed.
“How did you know where I imprisoned the pariks?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.
24
Soraya went cold as she realized her mistake. She had let herself become angry, and so she’d spoken without thinking over her words first, without considering how much she was supposed to know. “I don’t—I didn’t—”
“You lied to me when you said you hadn’t seen Parvaneh.” He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to look at him. “I thought it strange that Parvaneh could have resisted the effects of the esfand after all this time. But of course, if she had a human accomplice, that would explain everything. You’ve been working against me this entire time.”
She shook her head. “No … no, I…”
He sighed impatiently. “Choose a lie more quickly, Soraya.”
Her mind was working frantically, trying to find a lie that he would believe, but it seemed pointless. He wouldn’t believe her, not enough to trust her again—certainly not enough to tell her where he kept the simorgh’s feather.
The truth, then. As much of it as she dared.
“I did free her,” Soraya said, her voice wavering from fear. “I needed a way to escape the palace, and when she showed me what you had done to her wings, I thought she would help me. But you caught me first.”
A low growl escaped his throat. “When did you find the other pariks? You freed them, too, didn’t you?”
Soraya nodded. “The first night, after you left. Parvaneh took me into the forest and we found them … and I freed them.”
“And where are they now?”
“I don’t know,” Soraya said, thankful it was true. “They all left together, but I don’t know where they went.”
He released her face and turned away from her with another heavy sigh, his hands running over his head where his hair had once been. “I don’t know what to do with you now, Soraya,” he said, a note of regret in his voice.
Soraya was on the verge of tears. She had spoiled everything because of one thoughtless moment. How had Azad managed to fool her for so long without letting his mask slip? She had started to see it at one point—she had realized that he was playing a part, telling her what she wanted to hear. Then he had told her the story of his merchant father, and she had believed him again—because even though the details weren’t true, his resentment was. That was the trick of it, then—to sharpen lies with the truth.
She swallowed down her fear and approached him, her hands resting on his back. He went rigid under her touch, but she took a breath and said, “When I freed her, I didn’t know what she had done to you. She lied to me, fooled me as she fooled you.” He didn’t respond, but he didn’t pull away, either, and so she moved around him so that they were facing each other. “I was furious with her when I found out. Whatever alliance we once had is over.”
From his long silence, his searching stare, she knew that he wanted to believe her. Finally, he said, “Why should I trust you?”
Soraya shut her eyes, the flickering flame of a candle appearing in her mind. “Because I can give her to you,” she said, the words scraping her throat. It was the worst betrayal she could think of, but it was also the only solution to make Azad trust her again.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her with curiosity.
“How?” he said.
“She always comes to my room after you leave for Golvahar. If you hide there, you can catch her when she appears.”
“And you would be content with this?”
Soraya nodded, thankful now that she had become so adept at pushing down her emotions over the years. “I don’t care what happens to her.”
Azad abruptly left her side and went to an iron chest against the wall. He retrieved something from it, and when he returned, Soraya saw he had a coil of rope around his arm. He had captured me, bound my wings so I couldn’t transform, she remembered Parvaneh telling her. Azad went to the door and gestured for her to follow.
“Now?” Soraya said, her voice going up an octave.
He looked at her coolly. “Why not? The time for her arrival is near. If you meant what you said, there’s no reason to wait.”
Soraya followed him out into the tunnels, walking quickly to keep up with his determined stride. “What are you planning to do with her?” she asked.
“You said you didn’t care what happens to her,” Azad answered, and Soraya went quiet.
He won’t kill her, she reminded herself. Parvaneh had told her that he always captured pariks rather than kill them. He probably would keep her unconscious, as he had done with the others. But what if she was wrong and he preferred to kill Parvaneh rather than risk her escaping again? What if he kept her alive but tore her wings, or found other ways to harm her? Soraya’s stomach twisted with nausea. Perhaps if she used the candle to signal to Parvaneh that it wasn’t safe, then she would understand not to appear, and Soraya could tell him that they’d fought, and that Parvaneh had abandoned her.