The Sultan and the Storyteller by Lichelle Slater

Twenty-One

The doors to the palace suddenly exploded.

I blinked, focusing my eyes on someone’s foot until I spotted Zayne backing up while swinging his deformed and still melting sword at the ifrit as it advanced on him. A barrage of magical light flared at the entrance of the throne room.

Spells.

Magic!

The Sorceresses of the Sand had finally arrived, and I prayed Kiara wasn’t in the ranks.

“Attack the sorceresses,” my father commanded, and the soldiers in the room turned in unison and marched to the hallway.

I set my hand on the wedding couch to push myself back to my feet, only to cry out when my shoulder screamed in agony. When I looked down, four long claw marks stretched across my shoulder.

“Shahira?” Jade mumbled as she sat up, finally coming to. “You’re hurt!” She blinked, suddenly fully aware, and grabbed the scarf from her head to bind it around my arm. She placed her palm over it and I tried to pull away.

“Don’t even think about healing it!” I protested.

Jade met my gaze. “After everything you’ve done for me, it is the least I can do for you.”

“Jade . . .”

Blood appeared on Jade's arm in flour slashes, just like mine. She bit her lip against the wave of pain she was inflicting on herself as she transferred my injury to her body. As my wounds healed before my eyes, a hand grabbed me by the hair and dragged my head backward. The healing stopped.

I looked up into my father’s face.

“I tried to keep you safe from all of this. I tried to take someone in your stead. I gave you so many opportunities to be safe, and instead you try over and over to destroy my plans.”

I kicked at the ground while Khorshid dragged me away from Jade.

A woman screamed and I turned my gaze to the battle between the guards and sorceresses. While the sorceresses had magic, they didn’t have weapons and the guards had already wounded more than one.

Two ifrits grabbed my arms and forced me to my feet as my father let go of my hair. The one holding my wounded arm gripped so tightly I cried out in agony. I couldn’t see Zayne.

A guard flew across the room and toppled over a tall candelabra, dropping the wax onto the expensive, imported rug.

My father stood in front of me with the serpent staff inches from my face. “You drove me to this, Shahira. This should have been Jade. You could have lived a happy life, but this falls on your shoulders now. Altang sophar!”

The serpent’s eyes glowed red and shed the black wooden appearance like a snake shedding its skin. The serpent came to life and slithered up Khorshid’s shoulder and down his opposite arm. Khorshid stretched that arm out to my shoulder and I tried to pull away as the snake slithered around the back of my neck.

The details of the room disappeared in momentary darkness.

Heat filled the room as a bolt of lightning struck the wall to our left.

“Father, please,” I begged. “You can stop all of this.”

Khorshid watched as the snake wrapped around my neck once. And he smirked. “Yes, I can. You’re right. I can stop all of the sorceresses once I have your power.”

I gulped, but my breathing began to quicken.

I didn’t see the snake strike, but I felt the fangs puncture my throat and I let out a strangled cry. “Zayne!”

My body trembled from head to foot and my stomach knotted. Agony rocked my body as the snake’s venom attacked me and I felt my magic being drained from me, sucked from my veins, pulled from every follicle of hair.

“Shahira, no!” Zayne’s voice cried out.

I focused on his voice and he came into view. Behind my father, my husband missed blocking the ifrit’s attack, and the creature from the underworld struck him in the side. I couldn’t tell if Zayne used the momentum from the blow or was thrown sideways, but he rolled back to his feet. He didn’t hold his side as he ran toward me.

“You are the fortieth and final sorceress.” Khorshid’s eyes glowed with the same greedy red as the serpent and he held his hand out. The serpent returned to his master. Khorshid pulled up the sleeve of his robes, exposing his wrist with dozens of circular scars. “Now I consume your power. Now I shall be the mightiest sorcerer that ever lived!”

The snake bit into his wrist.

Emptiness crept into my chest. I was hollow. My father had stolen my magic from me, taken it like he’d taken everything else.

My legs gave out, leaving the ifrits to hold me up.

I hadn’t been specific enough in my spell for it to work. I had spoken the words that the ifrit wouldn’t take Jade. It hadn’t. I never said anything about protecting myself. I had also tried to command Zayne into turning the ifrit against my father but, evidently, that had failed too. Perhaps it was for the best my father had taken my magic from me. Clearly, I didn’t know how to use it. That was why I hadn’t used my magic in years. If only I had kept it buried deep inside . . .

“For my first spell—” He turned to face the sorceresses. When he flexed his fingers, the snake returned to its staff form and he raised it high. “I command you all to cease your fighting!” His words reverberated off the walls, making the hanging lamps overhead tremble.

Everyone in the palace entrance stood still.

Khorshid’s grin curled with a snakelike curve and he let out a laugh. “To think this much power could flow in any one person . . .” He closed his eyes. “Now. You, dear Sultan.” He opened his eyes—the pupils now slits like those of a snake—and faced Zayne, who had slid to a stop just feet away. “You turned your back on me when I sacrificed everything for you.”

Zayne kept his sword down at his side, and I thought I saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes as he adjusted his grip on it. “Khorshid, you have been a second father to me my entire life. You have given me advice in the years since my father’s death.”

“Yes. Advice to lead you to this moment, this chance to remain at my side. Your father refused my ideas, and when he made the final decision not to join me at all, well . . .”

Zayne’s brows pinched. “You killed my father?” he asked, his voice etched with pain. “But I was a there. It—it was a hunting accident.”

“I made you believe it was. Just as I made you believe you killed your wives. I did it for you. For the kingdom.” Khorshid walked to Zayne. “You were always more important than my own family.”

Zayne nodded slowly. “I see that now.” He sheathed his weapon and ran his fingers through his hair. “What do we do?”

“I shall be your sorcerer instead of your vizier.” Khorshid draped his arm around Zayne’s strong shoulders and guided him away from me. “With the sorceresses now exposed, we can imprison them. Their magic could be helpful later. Then, I shall help you stretch your hand. You will rule more than just the southern isles of the sea.”

Zayne nodded and glanced over at the man he admired. “I shall be at your side through all of this.”

Khorshid inclined his head, and the staff that had moments ago been in his hand crept across the back of Zayne’s neck. “I don’t think the other kingdoms would think too highly of me if I killed you and took your throne.”

“I see that now. What should we do?” Zayne smiled and for a moment, my heart jumped into my throat. Had Khorshid destroyed the griffin charm? Was Zayne under his spell once more?

Khorshid lifted his snake and poised it in front of Zayne’s face. “Pledge yourself to me.”

Zayne stared at the snake.

“Zayne, don’t,” I pleaded, finally finding my voice. “You know how to stop him!” I had to believe that some part of my spell would come true.

Zane reached out and stroked the head of the serpent. “I have a feeling you’ve been under the control of this human for a long while. Perhaps years. I can’t imagine being split in two.”

Father’s brows dipped, but Zayne lifted his gaze and looked over Khorshid’s shoulder to the ifrit standing near the wall. It hadn’t moved during the confrontation.

“That’s what he did, didn’t he? Bound you to this snake somehow? I imagine if you are powerful enough to be used to kill the women I married, you have some strength within yourself to fight the man who bound you. You’re no lowly ifrit. You’re a shaytan, one of the strongest of demons.”

Khorshid pulled the snake away and moved to grab on to Zayne, but he stepped aside quickly.

“You’re stronger than he is. Fight him!”

“How dare you!” Khorshid shouted. “Kill the sultan!” Red magic swirled around the snake, returning it to a staff, but the ifrit looked from Zayne to Khorshid as the same red magic swirled around it.

Khorshid’s lip twitched. “How dare you!” He growled at Zayne, and then swung his staff.

Zayne caught the blow in his hand. “You might have been a father figure to me, but I cannot tolerate a murderer in my palace or my kingdom.”

“Then you shall die too.” He looked at the ifrit and red magic glowed around him once again. Power radiated from him and I felt cold inside my heart. “I command you to kill Sultan Zayne. You must do as I command until your bond is broken.”

The ifrit lifted its shoulders and charged.