Page 165 of The Moon's Fury
SomanybookswasSoraya’s first thought as she and Jamil rode through Thessan. Shops lined the cobblestone streets, each filled with rows upon rows of books.
“Should we dismount?” Jamil asked over his shoulder, hand squeezing her thigh.
It was tempting.
But the journey to Thessan had been long, and Soraya couldn’t wait to bathe in a real shower, not just dunk in a stream.
“Let’s settle in first,” she replied. They trotted farther into the city, past sand-colored buildings with black railings. “How will we track them?”
“If they came to Thessan, it was for the Grand Libraries. We’ll start there.”
They quickly found an inn and stabled Ahmar before setting back out.
As they crossed a narrow street, a tiny blur barreled into Jamil.
“Sahib! Come with me,sahib,” said a small girl with large, blue eyes and a shock of dark curls as she tugged at Jamil’s trousers. She was around six or seven, dirt smudged across her cheeks;her worn tunic had several, gaping holes. The girl’s sandals, though, appeared new.
Jamil looked down at the small child, a look of melancholy crossing his face. He crouched to her level and smoothed his hand over the girl’s dark hair.
“What is it,habibi?” he asked, his voice softer than Soraya had ever heard it.
The girl tugged harder, growing more insistent. “Come, come,please. Hurry!”
Jamil met Soraya’s eyes, and she shrugged. He nodded to the girl, who took off like a raithbee, darting between stalls and people alike.
Fingers entwined, they hurried after her through twisting alleys and cramped side streets, until they stumbled upon a huddle of orphans. Dirt-smudged faces turned toward them, eyes wide and watchful, clothes hanging in tattered folds. Soraya’s heart tightened. No matter the kingdom, this sorrow was always the same.
The children shuffled awkwardly, and Soraya noted that, like the blue-eyed girl, nearly all of them had brand new shoes.
An older boy made his way forward, parting the gathered children.
The leader of the gang.
“How many times have I told you not to wander off alone, Reem?” His voice was sharp, but his eyes were soft and worried. He barely glanced at Soraya and Jamil, his focus solely on Reem.
“It’shim, Yakhti! Just like the big man said.”
The older boy, perhaps ten years old, looked at them then, his shrewd gaze flitting over Soraya and fixing on Jamil.
On his scar.
The boy’s eyes widened, then quickly narrowed, the gears of his young mind turning.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and straightened his shoulders, regarding Jamil, not as a child facing a man, but as an equal.
“You’ve kept me waiting a long time,sahib,” the boy said casually.
Jamil’s lips quirked. “Oh?”
The boy hummed and fished out a rumpled, stained piece of parchment.
“Weeks now. Maybe over a month. A man passed through here and told me you’d be coming. He gave me twenty gold coins to give you this.” He held up the parchment, but when Jamil reached for it, the boy held it away. “He said you’d give me twenty more coins for it.”
Jamil regarded the boy, Yakhti, with narrowed eyes.
“Tell me what this man said, and I’ll tell you if it’s worth twenty gold coins.”
The boy didn’t waver. “He was a big fellow, biggest I’ve seen. There was a woman with him, but I didn’t see her clearly on account of it being dark and all. He gave me this parchment and told me another big man would be coming, but not as big as him.” Soraya stifled a smile as Jamil scowled. “He’d have green eyes and a long, white scar on his face. Said there’d be a woman with him, too.” Yakhti tilted his chin toward her.
