Finally, Alizeh felt as if she could breathe.
He and Hazan were speaking quickly now, and Alizeh was torn between searching for Miss Huda and joining their small party. She had so many questions for Hazan she was eager to ask, and perhaps—
Perhaps if she did not search for Miss Huda, she might not find the girl, and could then safely allow the young woman to return to her life. After all, what difference would it really make if Miss Huda told people what she’d seen? Alizeh would be long gone by then.
Though it was possible the gossip would not hurt her, but her blue-eyed companion. Knowing now that he was not a wretch made it harder for her to be careless with his life, especially as she considered all he’d done to spare hers.
Alizeh bit her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between the room at large, and the tall forms of the two young men.
Oh, dash it all.
She would let Miss Huda go. She needed to speak with Hazan; there was too much uncertainty.
Alizeh began forcing her way back through the crush, weaving between bodies to catch up with the gentlemen, who’d begun moving quickly in the opposite direction.
“Wait,” she called out. “Where are y—”
The copper-headed stranger turned around at that, catching her eyes with a narrowing of his own. He gave her a single, firm headshake.
Danger, he seemed to say. Do not follow.
Alizeh felt the nosta warm, and she gasped in surprise. How had the nosta understood an unspoken warning?
She stood in place, struck still by the many curiosities of the evening, when she felt the dregs of a familiar, silky whisper flood her head, fill her with dread.
A crawling fear overtook her heart, shattered across her skin, filled her mouth with heat.
Blindly, she ran.
It was panic that propelled her jerky movements, panic that sought irrational escape, as if she could ever outrun the devil. She knew the futility of retreat even as she pushed desperately through the densely packed room, even as she knew her efforts were in vain.
Like vapor, his whisper filled her head.
Beware the gold, the crown, the eye
“No,” she cried as she ran. “No, n—”
Beware the gold, the crown, the eye
One is a king who is loath to die
“Stop,” Alizeh shouted, clapping her hands around her ears. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she needed air, needed to flee the crush of the crowd. “Get out, get out of my head—”
Beware the gold, the crown, the eye
One is a king who is loath to die
Ford the darkness, scale the wall
Two have a friend who is foe to all
“Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone—”
The serpent, the saber, the fiery light
Three will storm and rage and fight
Alizeh caught a marble column around the middle and sagged against it, pressing her uncommonly overheated cheek to its cool skin. “Please,” she gasped. “I beg you— Leave me be—”
Always the jester will interfere
For there cannot be three sovereigns here
Something broke, smoke unclenching from around her throat, and just like that, he was gone.
Alizeh felt dizzy in the aftermath, breathless with fear. She pressed herself against the glossy marble, felt the cold penetrate her skin through her gauzy gown. She’d been so certain she’d freeze in this dress, but she’d not anticipated the crush of bodies, their collective heat, the unusual warmth she’d feel this night.
Alizeh closed her eyes, tried to calm her breathing.
She didn’t know where she was and she didn’t care; she could hardly hear her own thoughts over the sound of her heart, beating wildly in her chest.
She’d not even been able to decode the first riddle she’d received from the devil—how was she supposed to understand this second one?
Worse, so much worse: his visits had proven over and over to be an omen. It was just days ago that he’d filled her head with whispers of misery, and oh, how she’d suffered the consequences. How dramatically had her life changed and collapsed since she last heard his voice in her head? What did that mean for her now? Would she lose every crumb of hope she’d recently collected?
There was no precedent for this precipitous visit from Iblees. Alizeh usually experienced months, not days, of a reprieve before his torturous voice infected her mind again, bringing with it all manner of calamity and unrest.
How, now, would she be tortured?
“Alizeh.”
She stiffened, turning to face an altogether different torment even as she grasped for purchase at the cool column. Alizeh’s heart pounded now in an entirely new fashion, her pulse fluttering dangerously at her throat.