Chapter 237: She Is Here

Safira laughed so hard that she had to press the back of her wrist to her mouth to try to stop herself.

When she could breathe again, she looked up at him with shining eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"I knew for a fact that you would return, as certain as the Suns rise. A part of me thought I was being foolish, but..."

"You were not."

"You threw me the keys."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Of course not."

She finally wiped her eyes.

"Teacher."

It was the first time she had said it in weeks.

"Disciple."

Malik nodded at her and looked away.

She did not mind, because the woman walking in needed all the attention she could get.

Huda came up the stairs on her own.

Nobody had tried to help her.

She took them one at a time with a hand braced on the wall, her crimson hair hanging in tangled ropes.

Despite her apparent exhaustion, her face was fierce, and the pink eyes that fixed on him were burning.

The crowd parted in front of her without a word.

She stopped in front of him.

For a long moment she only looked.

She took in the gold of his hair, the whole line of his shoulders, slowly looking at every inch of him.

Then she hit him.

It was a clumsy punch, and a weak one.

Her fist landed on his chest with a soft thump, and her knuckles bounced off.

"You idiot."

She hit him again.

"You absolute..."

Thump.

"...complete..."

Thump.

"...utter..."

Huda ran out of words.

Her voice cracked in the middle.

She did not stop swinging, even as each blow was a little weaker than the last; she continued until her hands only rested against his chest and her forehead dropped between them.

"It was fake; you said it was fake."

"It was."

"You stood there and looked right at me. You said it, and you walked away."

"I did."

"You had white hair... you looked half-dead."

"I had a rough week."

"I screamed at you."

Her shoulders began to shake.

"I thought it was him. I begged you. I called you a..."

She could not finish.

Instead, she began to sob, hard and ugly.

Malik put his hand on the back of her head.

"I am sorry, I could not tell you. If I had said one word more, you would have shouted it across the plain, and every Angel in Devil's Maw would have turned their head. I had to let you think I was a stranger. It was a cruel thing."

"It was so cruel."

"I know."

"I hate you."

"You can hate me tomorrow; today I need you to listen to me."

Huda lifted her head.

Her face was a wreck, and her pink eyes were swimming.

She glared at him with all the ferocity of a wet cat.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Please sit."

"...fine."

She stood there with her fists balled in his tunic, and after a moment she leaned her whole weight against him.

He took it, feeling her breath hitching against him, and a small, furious sound came out of her.

"My big brother is a fool."

"Yes."

"I stayed for you."

"And you almost died because of that."

A laugh burst out of her as she smacked his chest one last time, keeping her hand there for a moment longer.

It was a long while before the noise settled.

Malik had to take his time. Each person needed a minute, and he gave everyone what they needed, because the people he loved had spent weeks carrying a grave.

Dunya stood a little apart, near the rail.

Sinbad rode his shoulder with his claws hooked into the cloak and refused to be moved.

Isha had gotten into his hair. Nobody scolded her.

Layla stood at his side with her fingers laced through his. She had not let go.

There was much to talk about, but she couldn't help but ask a question she already knew the answer to:

"Hakim?"

Malik had been waiting for it.

The ledge went still.

Nobody else had said the name.

They had all been careful to step around it.

Malik looked down at his wife's hand, and at his daughter's small one wrapped around his sleeve.

"He is buried on a hill, near the furthest south corridors. I dug the grave myself... It is not much."

Layla's fingers tightened as he continued:

"He did not die alone; I was there. I held him in his final moments."

He paused.

"I told him I forgave him."

Nobody breathed.

"He heard me."

The silence stretched.

Somewhere at the back of the crowd, a woman began to weep softly.

Layla pressed her free hand to her mouth, and a tear slid down her cheek.

Malik let her lean her shoulder against his arm.

"He would have wanted to hear it from you."

"I know."

Amal tugged at his sleeve.

"Father."

"Yes?"

"Can I visit him?"

"We will visit him together."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

That word sat heavy in his throat.

He had made another promise, a few hours ago, on a hill beside a lake. It had a very particular shape.

I will tell you first, to your face.

Malik let go of Layla's hand, gently, and crossed the ledge back to the rail.

The crowd quieted as he approached.

Their roar sank to a murmur, and the murmur sank to a held breath. The soldiers lowered their fists. The mothers lowered their children. A sea of faces tilted up towards the ledge, and he saw their hope in every one of them, desperate to believe.

He put both hands on the cold stone.

"I have one more thing to tell you."

The projection crystal hummed.

"I will not lie to you about it. I have lied to many of you since my return, and I am ashamed of it. I told you I was well when I was not. I told you there was nothing to worry about. You deserved better. So I will say this plainly, and I will say it now, to your faces, before anyone has to hear it from an arm."

Dunya, near the rail, lifted her chin.

Layla went very still.

"I am leaving."

The words dropped into the cavern like a stone into a deep well, and nothing dared to answer it.

Hundreds of murmurs slowly started...

Only to die in a single breath.

"Not for long. I hope. But for as long as it takes."

Amal's fingers closed on the back of his cloak.

"I came back stronger than I left. You can see that. I am a true Angel now, and I carry more power than I did on that hill. But even then, it is not enough."

He met their eyes, one by one.

"The thing that took Hakim, and the army that took the Holy Palace, and the tide that is coming behind it, cannot be killed with a sword. I know that. I am not afraid to say it. If I stay here and wait for it, it will send us all to the grave."

He tightened his grip.

"So I will go and find the thing that can."

Nobody moved.

"I do not know exactly where it is. I know that it lies very far from here, a long way up and away."

A small smile crossed his face.

"I need allies as well. Ones that are stronger than anything we have. I do not know where they are, either. But I know that I will not find them sitting in this cave."

Malik took a breath.

"I will leave at dawn."

The words hung in the cold air.

Layla's hand slipped into his, and she did not say a word. He felt the pressure of her fingers, fierce and certain.

When he looked at her, her eyes were bright, and her jaw was set, and he could see her turning the whole thing over in her head, deciding which part of it she could survive.

"I trust you."

"Thank you."

"Come back."

"I will."

"Please say it properly."

"I will come back, and when I do, I will not be alone."

Sinbad's claws tightened on his shoulder.

"You must be careful, Elder Brother. Gods are not to be trusted."

"Hm."

It was only natural that he picked up on what Malik was planning; there was no other choice for him after all.

Meanwhile, down in the crowd, a single voice began to chant.

It was an old man's, but a few others quickly took it up. Then a hundred. Then a thousand. They said it low, the way people say a prayer they have said all their lives.

"Long live the Sultan."

Malik bowed his head.

He had no answer for it.

The cavern had said everything for him.

He stood at the rail with his wife's hand in his and his daughter at his back, letting himself be exactly where he was.

But then, all of a sudden, the chanting faltered.

A ripple went through the crowd, a murmur and a shuffle, and the people there stepped aside in a hurry, as though something had walked through the middle of them.

A smell reached the ledge a moment later.

It was a familiar grass and rain, and it did not belong in a cave under hundreds of feet of snow.

Layla's fingers went rigid in his.

"Oh, she's here."