Alizeh nearly screamed again.
The dragon had disappeared. It was still there—she felt the beast beneath her, could feel the leathery texture of its skin—but the creature had gone invisible in the sky, leaving her floating on a patterned rug.
It was deeply disorienting.
Still, she understood then why the creature had disappeared; without its bulk to blind her, she could see the world below, could see the world beyond.
Alizeh didn’t know where she was going, but for the moment, she forced herself not to panic. There was, after all, a strange peace in this, in the quiet that surrounded her.
As her nerves relaxed, her mind sharpened. Quickly, she yanked off her boots and chucked them into the night. It gave her great satisfaction to watch them disappear into the dark.
Relief.
A sudden thud shifted the weight of the rug, startling her upright. Alizeh spun around, her heart racing once again in her chest; and when she saw the face of her unwelcome companion, she thought she might fling herself into the sky with the boots.
“No,” she whispered.
“This is my dragon,” said the Tulanian king. “You are not allowed to steal my dragon.”
“I didn’t steal it, the creature took— Wait, how did you get here? Can you fly?”
He laughed at that. “Is the mighty empire of Ardunia really so poor in magic that these small tricks impress you?”
“Yes,” she said, blinking. Then, “What is your name?”
“Of all the non sequiturs. Why do you need to know my name?”
“So that I may hate you more informally.”
“Ah. Well, in that case, you may call me Cyrus.”
“Cyrus,” she said. “You insufferable monster. Where on earth are we going?”
Her insults seemed to have no effect on him, for he was still smiling when he said, “Have you really not figured it out?”
“I’m entirely too agitated for these games. Please just tell me what horrible fate awaits me now.”
“Oh, the very worst of fates, I’m sorry to say. We are currently enroute to Tulan.”
The nosta burned hot against her skin, and Alizeh felt herself go rigid with fear. She was stunned, yes, and horrified, too, but to hear the king of an empire denigrate his own land thus—
“Is Tulan really so terrible a place?”
“Tulan?” His eyes widened in surprise. “Not at all. A single square inch of Tulan is more breathtaking than all of Ardunia, and I say that as a discernable fact, not as a subjective opinion.”
“But then”—she frowned—“why did you say that it would be the very worst of fates?”
“Ah. That.” Cyrus looked away then, searched the night sky. “Well. You remember how I said I owed our mutual friend a very large debt?”
“Yes.”
“And that helping you was the only repayment he would accept?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“And do you remember how I told you that he wanted you to rule? To be a Jinn queen?”
Alizeh nodded.
“Well. You have no kingdom,” he said. “No land to lord over. No empire to lead.”
“No,” she said softly. “I don’t.”
“Well, then. You are coming to Tulan,” Cyrus said, taking a quick breath. “To marry me.”
Alizeh gave a sharp cry, and fell off the dragon.
About the Author
Photo by Ransom Riggs TAHEREH MAFI is the National Book Award nominated and New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Shatter Me series, A Very Large Expanse of Sea, An Emotion of Great Delight, Whichwood, and Furthermore.
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