Page 44 of The Wishless Ones
“That’s cold,” Iago said, inserting himself into their conversation.
Cold was what he’d be when Rohan inevitably locked him out of the palace in the dead of the night.
“Did you not notice the air of mourning when we arrived? I didn’tkeepanything from you,” Jafar retorted with a tone of ice. “I simply learned of it ahead of time from the caravan leader.”
Rohan resisted the urge to call out the fact that he’d known for so long. At this point, he was beginning to sound as though all he did was whine.
“And it wasn’t important to impart,” Jafar continued. “We were heading for the House of Wisdom, not the palace. But think about it, Rohan. Does it not strike you as odd that the Sultana would keep that a secret?”
All Rohan heard were excuses.
“And you decided now was a good time to impart this knowledge, because I’ve decided to stay,” Rohan said.
Jafar sighed. He could be a lot like Baba when he wanted to. “I’ll leave you alone. It’s getting late and I think I’ll explore the palace a little.”
Rohan didn’t want him to leave. He didn’t want Jafar to have the satisfaction of evading Rohan’s scrutiny, nor did he want Jafar exploring the palace and acting like he was the first to make discoveries.
“I already did that,” Rohan said, following Jafar out to the antechamber. “Even found where they’re keeping that prisoner with the papermaking secret.”
Between being angry at Jafar and concurrently missing Jafar, Rohan hadn’t put much thought into it, but something about the whole ordeal with the prisoner didn’t tally. It didn’t make sense to Rohan why the prisoner was Maghrizi and held a secret of the East. It didn’t make sense that the Sultana would tell the two of them about it when she knew nothing about them.Theycould be spies, for all she knew.
“Oh,” Jafar said, hurt crossing over his face.
Now he knew how it felt.
“Did you…speak to the Sultana, too?” Jafar asked haltingly.
Rohan studied Jafar. It didn’t take long for him to realize: Jafar cared what the Sultana thought of him. Or rather, Jafar cared about how she might feel aboutRohan.
“A little,” Rohan said. It was a bald-faced lie; he hadn’t even seen the Sultana. He could only hope he was selling his false words. “We shared honey cake. It was probably the best I’ve ever had.”
Jafar didn’t care for food as much as he once had, but honey cake was the exception—it was on Jafar’s list of beloved things, very likely right under alchemy.
“Very nice,” Jafar said softly, quiet as the serpent he wanted to be, and opened the door to the hall. “Good night, Rohan.”
Helping Baba thwart Jafar’s scholarship was one thing, but lying about honey cake was going too far. Jafar knew that Rohan was hurt and grieving and that Jafar was in the wrong for lying himself, but he was doing what was best for them. He wasn’t trying to sabotage his brother.
Unlike Rohan.
And Jafar needed to do something about it. He thought back to what Rohan said, about combining the two alchemical spells to create a new one, to make someonevomitwords.
Someone like the Sultana’s prisoner.
“You’re sure interrogating the prisoner will get us the rubies?” Iago asked as Jafar paced the hall by their rooms just out of earshot from the guards.
Jafar had used the finder’s spell, which required less work than he’d been looking forward to for his first dabble in alchemy—and with disappointing results that gave him a headache, because the rubies kept moving. Which meant they were still on the Sultana’s person. Short of picking her pockets, which Jafar didn’t trust his ability to do, the only way he could get his hands on the rubies was if she gave them to him herself.
“She wants the prisoner’s secret and we want the rubies,” Jafar said. “It’ll be a solid trade, no?”
“And you think Rohan is going to be all right with all of this?” Iago asked, flying up to eye one of the elaborate sconces lining the hall.
Jafar wanted to stop worrying about Rohan and think of other things. Like the girl from the library and how beautiful she would look in a swathe of fabric he’d seen at the bazaar. It was the color of the sky where it met the sea, brilliant and bright, just like her.
Jafar cleared his throat. Iago lifted a brow.
“The longer we stay here, the more I lose her—him,” Jafar quickly corrected. It was true. They hadn’t been here a day and Rohan was already becoming Baba. Jafar saw the signs. He hated them. Once he had the rubies, he would leave—as much as Jafar hated leaving all those scrolls and stories untouched. As much as he yearned to see that girl once more. And he would take Rohan with him, whether his brother wanted it or not.
Iago nodded. “So much for shedding light on my past.”
