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The Stardust Thief (The Sandsea Trilogy, #1)(145)

Author:Chelsea Abdullah

None of this is part of the plan! she wanted to scream, but she could not bring herself to say the words. The memory of that strange heat still lay beneath her skin, and it made her wary.

“Give it to me.” He held out a hand. “I’ll deliver it to him.”

She was grateful Tawil was shorter than her, so she could look down her nose at him. “I don’t take commands from haughty children.”

Tawil’s bright fa?ade cracked. He glared at her with a vehemence that made her skin prickle. “You’re a bitch, bint Louas, you know that?”

“And you’re a bastard. Now, do you want to keep throwing names at each other, or shall we talk business like adults?” She was just about to return to their discussion when she heard a sound and paused. She and Tawil glanced at a pile of collector’s coins in the corner. Even as they watched, a few trickled to the floor.

Tawil shrugged it off, but she knew immediately that something was off. There was a buzzing in her ears. She focused until it became a voice: I am here, it said. And then Aisha did not just hear it; she saw it: the shadow relic, visible through the eye the ifrit had gifted her.

And beneath it: Mazen bin Malik, spying on them.

He had followed them. That was why he hadn’t objected to being left behind.

Aisha was torn between anger and pride. The latter won out. She had not yet revealed things the prince couldn’t know; she was safe. Omar was safe. But now that he was here—well, she couldn’t give him information, but there were other ways to reward him for his bravery.

“Let us continue this discussion aboveground. I’m famished.” She walked to the ladder before Tawil could protest, and turned back only once to glance pointedly at the cabinet. “You have quite the collection, Tawil. I can only imagine how much gold you could get from all this.”

Tawil was a prideful creature. Even if he did realize some of his relics had gone missing, he would not tell Omar.

She saw the understanding in the prince’s eyes. And then—he was nothing but a shadow on the wall. She hid a smirk as she made her way outside.

56

LOULIE

Mazen bin Malik was waiting in the inn’s tavern when they returned. The moment he saw them, he rushed past the occupied tables with disconcerting purpose and handed them a burlap sack. Loulie peeked into the bag. And stared.

“Relics,” Qadir said, confirming her suspicions.

They both looked at the prince, who raised his hands and said, “I can explain.”

And so as Loulie donned her merchant robes, he told them. About the young jinn murdered in the souk and of the thief who killed him. Loulie presumed even Aisha bint Louas must have despised the man if she’d encouraged Mazen to steal from him.

There was only one thing that bothered her about the situation. Namely, that the compass had not led them to Tawil’s stash. Qadir smiled faintly when she brought it up. “Khalilah knows the future,” he said. “She led us to where we needed to be.”

Loulie was in too good a mood to bring up her dislike of destiny. She was glad, at least, that the relics had ended up in their hands so she could sell them to people who weren’t members of the murderous forty thieves.

She was about to follow the prince out of the room when she paused and, out of habit, turned back to search for the bag of infinite space. Her stomach sank when she remembered it had been lost in the ruins. But at least we recovered our most important belongings. And…

Her eyes wandered to the shamshir sheathed at Qadir’s hip.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Have you not noticed I have been wearing it this whole time? Why would I leave it in a place any simple thief could break into?”

“You had it displayed on the wall of our room for years.”

“Dahlia would be insulted if she knew you were so skeptical of her security.”

“You know that’s not my point.” She followed Qadir down the corridor and toward the entrance, where the prince was waiting for them.

“I told you I would keep this blade safe. Here, that means carrying it on my person.”

“You think you’ll ever use it? I know it’s hardly an enchanted knife, but—”

“An object’s worth isn’t determined by whether or not it is enchanted.” His lips curled into one of his familiar not-quite smiles. “Besides, I have no doubt this blade will serve me. I just hope the day I must rely on it is far in the future.”

Loulie hoped so too. On the cliffs, Qadir had told her they were a team. And as his comrade, she would do her best to make sure he did not have to use the shamshir. She would rather he carry the blade around as an accessory forever than feel pressed into using it as a last resort. But if he did ever have to use it… she hoped it was as efficient as it was elegant.