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Girl, Serpent, Thorn(60)

Author:Melissa Bashardoust

Azad studied her with narrowed eyes, and Soraya returned his stare with all the resolve she could muster. She weighed the options in her mind, and she knew there was only one choice she could make now.

“And what have you decided?” he asked her with some skepticism.

“I’ve been thinking of what you told me before,” she said, “when I asked you why you never chose to live as a human. You said it was because of power, but I think that’s only part of the truth.”

He walked toward her, stopping when he was close enough that she had to turn her head up to look him in the eye. “Is that so?” he said, his mouth twisting in amusement. “Then what’s the real reason?”

“Because if you chose to stop fighting for the throne and live a quiet life as a human, then everything you did to your family would have been for nothing.”

His smile faded. His eyes darkened. “Soraya—”

“And if I keep holding myself back, then the same will be true for me.”

His mouth hung open with whatever unspoken reprimand he had been about to speak. “What are you saying?”

“I’ll kill Sorush myself.” She turned her eyes up, looking at him through her eyelashes. “And then I’ll be yours.”

Is this cruel? she wondered. Was she being as cruel to him as he had been when he’d pledged himself to her outside the golestan, knowing that he was about to betray her? If I am being cruel, she decided, then it’s because he taught me how.

Azad was studying her again, searching for the trap that he was clever enough to suspect but didn’t want to find. “Are you toying with me?” he said, his voice a low growl.

“I’m done playing games,” she said. “I’ve felt more myself here among the divs than I ever have at Golvahar. I want what you promised me last night. I want to be free.”

And even though she had no intention of killing Sorush, the words were true enough that she knew Azad would believe them.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and he brushed his thumb along the curve of her throat. “Is that the only reason?” he said, his voice softening into something almost wistful.

She knew what he wanted to hear, and she took a breath, preparing the lie on her tongue. “I miss you,” she said. “I miss working with you instead of against you. I miss what we once had. I want to know if I can find it again.”

His hand tightened on her shoulder. “You will,” he said. “I promise you.”

The conviction in his voice made her wonder if it were true—if, given time, she would one day look at him and see only that young man again, the one who had noticed her on the roof and come to her rescue on Nog Roz. But no—that young man had never existed, and even if he had, she didn’t want him anymore. She didn’t want someone who always told her what she wanted to hear. There was something better than that, something truer and more alive, and it was currently waiting for her, asleep in the dungeon of Golvahar.

But first, she needed to free the simorgh. “That was all I came here to tell you,” Soraya said, turning away from him and moving toward the door. “I wanted you to know my decision before you returned to Golvahar.”

“Before we return to Golvahar,” Azad corrected.

Soraya turned, the hummingbird in her mind taking flight once more. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no reason to delay. We can leave for Golvahar at dawn—or sooner, if you’d prefer.”

She had thought he would wait at least another day before insisting on her return—on Sorush’s execution—and then she could return for the simorgh. I can still delay him, she thought. She just needed to make him leave Arzur again.

“You seem surprised,” he said. “Did you think I wouldn’t hold you to your promise?”

“I simply thought you would need more time to make arrangements. I don’t want to return the way I came, carried over your shoulder like a prisoner.”

He bowed his head and said, “Then you shall return on a golden litter down the city streets, my queen.”

“And I want something else,” she said, thinking of how to delay him, how to make him return to Golvahar before her.

“You know I would give you anything,” he said.

Except my family. Except Parvaneh. Except my freedom. “When we return to the palace, I want my old rooms back.”

He hesitated. “Soraya, I want to trust you.…”

“But you’ll need to board up the door to the passageways first. I understand. Do what you must. But I want something familiar. Something to remind me of my old life.” More gently, she added, “I’m sure you can understand that.”

He nodded. “Very well. I’ll prepare your room tonight, and you’ll begin your journey at dawn.”

He insisted on accompanying her back to her room in the mountain, and Soraya’s heart pounded with a mixture of fear and excitement. It had worked—she would wait until her candle was halfway burned before setting out for his room again, and this time, she would bring tools with her to free the simorgh.

But instead of turning toward her room, Azad gripped her arm and led her farther down the passage. “What are you doing?” Soraya said.

“When I announced that you could move freely through the mountain, I hadn’t yet known about your outings with the pariks. They’re very loyal—if they learn what you did to Parvaneh, they may come for you and take their revenge. I’d prefer to keep you secured more safely tonight.”

It was such a blatant lie that Soraya nearly told him about Parisa’s visit just to catch him in it. But she had made that mistake once before, and she kept her anger—and her tongue—in check as he led her to his treasury, the only room with a lock on the door.

“You can’t keep me here,” she said, attempting to pull out of his grip as they neared the door. “There’s no bed.”

“You’ve seen for yourself that there are plenty of rugs that you can pile up.”

“What about food?”

“You’ll be fine until morning. Sleep, and the time will pass quickly.”

He unlocked the door and dragged Soraya across the threshold.

“But what if I—”

He silenced her with a finger against her lips. “Think of this as a test of your loyalty to me. Because if this is another ploy, Soraya—if I discover that you’re deceiving me in any way—then there will be no more bargains or exchanges. I will slaughter your family in front of you as easily as I slaughtered mine.”

26

Soraya’s mother had told her once that it was almost a day’s journey from the city where she had spent her childhood to Golvahar. And so Soraya knew she had roughly from sunrise to sunset to figure out what she should do once she arrived at the palace.

Sometime before dawn, Azad had retrieved her from the treasury and brought her to the entryway of the mountain. As promised, a golden litter awaited her there, along with two smaller divs on horseback. Once Soraya was in the litter, and the litter securely attached to the horses, Azad took off, promising to greet Soraya at journey’s end.

And what would she do when she reached her destination? The simorgh was chained up inside the mountain. The pariks were hiding somewhere in the forest. Her family and Parvaneh were imprisoned. What had Soraya managed to accomplish during her time here? She cursed herself now for not simply plucking one of the simorgh’s feathers when she had the chance, but some part of her knew that nothing good would have come from such a theft. The feather had to be granted freely or not at all.

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