“Are you still upset?” Darian asked as he offered Aryana his flacon of water.

Aryana accepted out of courtesy, handing it back after a quick nip. “It’s not right.”

Darian heaved a sigh. A powerful gust whipped the banners fiercely around their poles and lashed at their words. “The Magister knows what he’s doing, Sister.”

“But why Rostam? Even after I begged him not to.”

“Aryana,” Darian said, saying her name as if it were something heavy and tedious to carry across his lips. “You don’t give him enough credit. Brother Rostam isn’t stupid, you know? He’s strong, experienced, and has a sharp mind even if he can seem a bit dogged in his ways.” He shrugged. “I’m not worried. Our Father is in good hands.”

Aryana sucked her teeth and turned her mare around. Behind them, the ranks parted to let her pass.

“Where are you going?”

“To find some shade.”

~

“And you doubled the watch?” Hilla paced nervously as he grilled the newly promoted guard captain.

“And the hourly patrols and the Keen-eyes in the towers. I also ordered all the lanterns doused at dusk. That will significantly improve our night vision.”

Hilla threw up his hands. “Whatever it takes. I don’t care, Captain. We will have no more surprises, no more thefts, and no more tails missing!”

“Good afternoon,” said a deep, aged voice.

Hilla spun, his camouflage rendering him invisible in a colorful flash. “What—where—who are you?”

Standing behind them were two humans. One tall and gaunt-looking, the other square-jawed with a thick bushy mustache that covered the whole of his upper lip. They were clad in black robes.

“Forgive the interruption,” said the taller one. “My name is Magister Aedam, and this is my associate, Commander Rostam. We’re here to see the Djinn, Khorasan.”

Magister Aedam? The name sounded vaguely familiar to Hilla, but he couldn’t quite recall where he’d heard it.

“How did you not see him coming?” Hilla hissed to the captain.

“I had my back to the stairs,” the captain whispered back.

“Is—this a bad time?” Aedam asked, arching a single brow.

Hilla scraped his throat and dropped his camouflage. “For-forgive my rudeness, Magister. We’re just a bit jumpy from the last being who visited the castle. My name is Hilla, the Djinn’s Vizier, and this is Captain Dezful.”

“Greetings,” Aedam said tersely. “I’m sorry to hear the last visitor didn’t show proper deference. Rumor has it that all manner of vile beings visit the Djinn. Did one of them happen to be an Afreet?”

Hilla blinked at the gemstone on the magister’s ring finger. “That-that is true.”

“One who goes by the name Lord Tarikh,” the captain said.

“Yes, though it was one of his underlings who managed to breach the Djinn’s sanctum,” added Hilla.

The magister’s eyes flashed, and he peered up as if inspecting the castle’s defenses. “The perpetrator got away then?”

Hilla sighed. “Sadly, yes. It seems Lord Tarikh has gotten his hands on a werewolf pup. A very shrewd little creature.”

“A Gorgineh?” Aedam said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

Rostam snorted, muttering, “I thought they’d all buggered off across the Sea of Doha.”

“I promise you, I’ve seen her with my own two eyes.”

Aedam looked at each of Hilla’s protruding eyes as they swiveled independently. “I trust your account. And—it’s a she? The young pup?”

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Hilla nodded, his gaze flitting to the precious stone, which was the color of deep burgundy, like a fine wine. “Yes, just a child. The threat lies in underestimating her.”

Rostam scoffed. “A child managed to best a Djinn’s defenses?”

“She-she is a very resourceful girl,” Hilla said, following the magister’s stare. Aedam’s slate eyes narrowed at the bandaged stump, and Hilla flushed as much as a lizard could flush. “Eh, y-yes. I know what you’re thinking, Magister. She did, in fact, make off with my tail. As I said, the real danger lies in underestimating the little runt.”

“So you’ve said. I’d like to hear more about this Afreet and his Gorgineh whelp once we’re inside and rested. I take it that won’t be a problem? It’s been a long journey.”

Magister Aedam, Hilla knew that he knew the name from somewhere. But where had he heard it? And why did it fill him with such dread?

“For-forgive me, Magister, but the gate will remain shut until such time as Lord Khorasan is awake and ready.”

“The Djinn is sleeping? How long must we wait?”

Hilla shrugged nervously, one eye falling on the gem, so beautiful on the magister’s long finger. “It’s impossible to tell, Magister. The only way to wake a Djinn is to rub its container. Though Lord Khorasan’s vessel was smashed a long time ago. In fact, without a piece of the container as tribute, one can’t possibly hope to gain an audience.”

“I’ve heard of this legend,” Aedam said as he reached to take something from the wide sleeve of his robe. “And I’ve come prepared.”

“Ah, that seems to be an authentic piece,” Hilla said, looking only at the gem. “Yes, that would do, I think.”

The other man, Rostam, shifted impatiently. “So, there is truly no telling when the Djinn will wake again?”

“I wish it were otherwise, but sadly it could take years.”

Aedam raised his gaze to the top of the shimmering azure dome. “Pity.”

“Alas, Magister.”

“What business does the Afreet have here?” Rostam said. “My men have tracked his movements for a long time, and he always returns to this place.”

Hilla huffed. “Yes, the Afreet has somehow gotten a hold on several shards. He’s been bothering my master for years now.”

“So he comes here to have his wishes granted…” Aedam said thoughtfully.

“Just the one, really, but I’ve already said too much. We keep the nature of every wish with a certain degree of confidentiality. I’m sure you can understand, Magister.”

“I understand completely. So, if the Afreet had the means to pay for his wishes, why did he attack the castle?”

Hilla stomped his feet. “Because he’s an impudent, immature child. He was told to hold his wish until after the master’s rest.”

“So, rather than wait, he sent a Gorgineh pup to do—what?”

Hilla opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself when the glowing eyes of Lord Khorasan flashed at the back of his mind. “Ah, very clever, Magister, but I really can’t say what she took.”

Rostam curled his lips. “So, it was one of the Djinn’s possessions that the Afreet needed.”

“Ack!” Hilla felt a rainbow of colors flicker up and down his skin. “That-that’s not what I said!”

Aedam chuckled darkly. “You need not worry. I won’t tattle to your Master, Aftabparst.”

“Ah-eh—thank you, gracious Magister,” Hilla said and wondered why the magister had to touch the gem, stroking it idly and smoothly, repeatedly. Hilla wished he’d stop. He didn’t want anything between him and that gem.

“Two more questions, and I’m done taking up your time.”

“I will answer them if I can, Magister.”

“Are there any more in the Afreet’s retinue, and do you know where he’s heading next?”

“Just a Goblin woman,” Hilla said. “She’s of no concern.”

“Yes, the one they call Juva, his wench. I’m well aware of her. And do you have their heading?”

Hilla shook his head. “If I did, I would have sent a Marmulek detachment after them.”

The Marmulek captain scraped his throat. “They stayed at one of the taverns in Abadeh. Perhaps someone there knows?”

“That’s right. Magister, you’re sure to find someone who knows there.”

“I will make a visit, Master Aftabparst.” Aedam smiled a peculiar smile, one that sent shivers down Hilla’s spined back. “Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome, Magister,” Hilla said with a bow, though one of his eyes stayed on the ring, which held that precious, lonely stone. “And if you find Lord Tarikh, tell him he won’t be so easily forgiven for this!”

“I will tell him,” Aedam said, covering the gem under his palm, “that he is beyond forgiving.”

~

That night, Hilla walked the castle halls, carrying a fresh pot of tea. He’d been restless ever since the little runt bit off his tail. He’d woken in a fright again, screaming for her to stop, but when she did, she flashed him that horrible black and white grin, holding his poor wriggling tail between her jaws.

That whelp is going to pay dearly for that. Hopefully, that creepy human can put an end to — His thoughts trailed off as an orange hue lit the next corridor. The light flickered at its reach.

“Captain,” Hilla called as the gates opened, “I thought you said you would douse the torches.”

“It’s not the torches, my vizier; it’s Abadeh. It’s burning. The entire town is burning!”

“What!?” That moment, something snapped, and the magister’s smile rushed back to him, and all the stories he should have recalled flooded his mind. Magister Aedam, leader of the Dawaran Knights, had come to their home and brought death with him. “Mobilize your soldiers! We must defend the castle!”

A ghastly wind swept by, chilling Hilla to the bone.

For a moment, Hilla thought the captain nodded, but his nod was very deep. And then, for a heartbeat, Hilla thought the captain bowed, which was odd. But as the head kept falling forward and blood fountained from an opened throat, he realized that the captain wasn’t nodding at all.

~

Aryana saw her breath fog in the night’s air. Icy pearls clung to her red hair and fell like sleet each time she spun to slice off a limb. The shadows were cold, very cold.

From down the hallway, armor clamored along with the rumble of many feet. Aryana sunk into the shadows once more. The next time she appeared, she did so in a burst of hail as she lunged from the shadows—their shadows—and spun her sword. Their warm blood burned against her frozen skin. It didn’t matter that the blood was that of cold-blooded reptiles, for she was colder still.