66. Nastarajan

{Naya}

We spent five days on the road to the city of Nastarajan with Cyndr and her caravan. Uri was still unconscious.

I tried to check in on him at least three times a day. After Cyndr's first examination when we brought him and Ritsu out of the cave, she said that he would be fine after lots of rest. I had no idea that she meant a week.

Both Cyndr and Ritsu agreed that it was unhealthy for me to wait by Uri's bedside. There was always work to do when traveling in a caravan, so Cyndr gave both of us jobs. We set up camp at night and kept watch for predatory djinn. One night I had to take down a ghoul. Cyndr always maintained a reserved, no-nonsense attitude, but I could tell that the rest of her family was very grateful to have a powerful djinni tagging along.

The road to Nastarajan took on a completely different landscape than the path Uri had been taking us along this whole time. Instead of endless miles of dunes and scorching suns, Cyndr steered us past lots of what appeared to be abandoned cities. The rest of the hinn in the group paid them no mind as we skirted around them, but I couldn't take my eyes off the ruined spires that stabbed the sky like abandoned shards of glass. I saw domes, once grand, that were now nothing but broken egg shells collecting years and sand.

After we traveled past the fourth city or so, I realized that these cities were too complex and expansive to have ever come from human history. When I asked Cyndr who it was that built them, she replied, "They are the ghost empires. First built and governed by the marida, they are now festering nurseries for djinn like the ghouls and the palis that thrive off of decay. Still, they are the last evidence we have that the marida still exist. When they completely disappear, so will these djinn cities. I am surprised that you can see them as clearly as we can, since you are not quite all djinni yourself."

I can hear them too, I wanted to say. Sometimes the cities moaned. Sometimes it sounded like thousands of voices at one time whispering at me. Their phrases were always broken or in ancient dialects that I could not discern. Though I could never work out the meanings, all of them sounded lost. Like restless souls wandering through a metropolitan purgatory.

Although Cyndr was bossy and aloof, I liked spending time with her. She always made me prepare dinner with her while the others tended the camels or foraged for things to burn in the camp fire. Bit by bit I told her about my situation. Rarely did she intervene or interrupt me. If she did, it was only to ask clarifying questions.

When she knew just about everything there was to know, her reply was, "I've never seen so many decisions tossed in the path of a single djinniyah all at once. I do not envy you, child."

I said, "I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't found you and your family. I know I've said this a million times, but thank you, Cyndr."

The old hinn waved me off. "Thank your sila, not me." Despite the dismissal, I could by the way her bushy tail swished whenever I thanked her that she appreciated the praise.

One day, when the two of us were by ourselves peeling potatoes for a stew, Cyndr said, "All I wonder is this: what will you do when Ritsu becomes whole and your ifrit wakes up? You will have to make another decision then."

I paused in my peeling. "What are you talking about?"

I didn't understand the sly grin playing on Cyndr's features. She nudged me with her tiny elbow.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed how hopelessly devoted the little ape is when it comes to you. You claim that your ifrit cares deeply for you, but so does the other one."

I couldn't believe we were actually having this conversation. "Cyndr. One, Ritsu is my servant. He has no choice but to be devoted. And two, he is a monkey. Where I come from, someone who's turned on by animals is down there with people who prey on kids. It's gross."

Cyndr rolled her eyes. "Child, are your ears clogged with sand? I said, what will you do when the ape is whole? That means when his spirit is bound to a form that is more like yours."

"I love Uri," I said through gritted teeth.

Whoa. I just said it. I just freaking said the words.

"They both love you," Cyndr remarked.

I got up and walked away. She let me go. I kept my mind blank until I got inside the wagon. Once inside, I found Uri sitting up and drinking from the bowl of water that I left beside his mat.

"Uri!"

Say it! Tell him!

But all I could manage as I wrapped my arms around him was, "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," he said, hugging me back.

I faced him. "God, I missed your voice." And I missed his lips, and grabbing handfuls of his dark, shoulder-length hair. I missed him holding my thighs so tight against his frame as if they were bound to run away. And the deep, dark sounds that came to life in his throat whenever he wrestled me onto my back. His facial hair was in the final stages of growing out a real beard. I welcomed the contrast of its roughness against the tenderness of his kisses.

Briefly, he paused to ask, "Where are we?"

I slipped my hands under his shirt. "Later, Uri."

He took the hint and freed himself of clothing. Then he helped me do the same.

+++

{Uriel}

No one, not even the wise and powerful marida, could have ever convinced Uriel to exchange that glorious half hour with Naomi for something else.

Not even a ticket out of this desert would get me to part from her in this moment.

Had his fire been awake, he would have never allowed Uriel to hold Naya close to him in peace without his usual raging and taunting. But his suit of fire was still dormant, too weak to make its presence known. So Uriel took advantage of this opportunity.

Part of him was grateful that Naya forgot about their exchange at the oasis resort. It had been too fast, too overpowered by both of their fires. There was passion, he remembered, but there was hardly anything to savor. By intervening the way they did, their fires had robbed them of true pleasure.

"Don't move," Uriel breathed against Naya's neck. Then he made his way south. Her body tensed as his beard gently raked her breast, bringing her nipple to life. He flicked out his tongue to try it. Naya drew a breath as sharp as the arch in her spine. Her knees tipped open for him, and in one swift motion of his hips, he was inside.

They were mostly silent. Their grunts were soft, their pleas muted. Naya rolled until her face met the cushions. Uriel found this new position so much more euphoric than the first. He kissed the spot between her shoulder blades and angled her hips until he felt more at home. His rhythm went in and out of flux. Naya deepened the bend in her back. She begged for things. Things that Uriel so desperately wanted to give her. He folded over her, thrusting, swearing, surrendering to her.

"I love you, Naomi," he confessed as he finally gave in and went soft against her. Naya murmured a reply, but Uriel didn't ask her to clarify until after they separated and were lying side by side.

"Uri," Naya said in a small voice. Uriel could tell that she was struggling to maintain eye contact with him so he brought her hand to his face and kissed her knuckles in reassurance.

The gesture seemed to help Naya gain a steadying breath before she said, "I'm not sure how you'll take this, but I want to make it clear that . . . it's this you that I love. As a djinni, I accept everything about you, but . . ."

She pulled her hand free and placed it in the center of his chest. "I want you, not both of you."

Uriel looked down. "You're talking about my suit of fire."

Naya took her hand back. "I've been so afraid to tell you. I know it sounds selfish of me, but I needed you to know before we took this any further."

Uriel reached forward and tucked one of Naya's coily bangs behind her ear.

"I'm not offended, Naya." He leaned forward until his lips were nearly touching hers. "Truthfully, I never wanted to share you with anyone, even if it is my own fire."

When he offered his lips, Naya resisted, but didn't back away. "I fell in love with the Uri that makes me banana pancakes and smokes hookah with me. I want him forever."

"And you will have him. That'll be the last wish I ever grant," Uri said before closing the tiny gap.

Swiftly, Naya inserted her finger between their lips. "Promise me something, Uriel."

Usually Naya was all smirks and sarcasm, but whenever she forewent using her nickname for him, it always had a sobering effect.

"Anything," he whispered, pressing against her index finger, the only barrier between them.

Naya said, "If it ever comes down to it, that you'll choose me over him."

Uriel drew back a bit. "What do you mean? If I had a choice between you or my fire? Naomi, you know me better than that."

Her voice staggered. "I've been wrong before."

Uriel sat up straighter and brought Naya with him. Massaging more reassurance into her shoulders, he said, "Did you forget the reason behind our original contract? I'm desperate to become human. I want to shed myself of this suit of fire. More than anything. I would never choose to go back to this life over you. Never in a thousand lifetimes."

Naya held his gaze. "I hear you, but I can't help but think back to what happened at the oasis. You stole my power from me. You taunted those other ifrits. Don't deny that sometimes you want power."

Uriel wrapped his arms around his abdomen. "He wants the power, Naya. Not me. I want you. I want a life with you."

Naya looked at the ground. Her voice cracked as she argued, "He's going to wake up again. You know that. Chances are, we're going to come in contact with more djinn that want to threaten or tempt you. Up until now, I've let you handle this on your own, but after everything that's happened since I got here, I can't stay quiet anymore."

Uriel held up a hand. "I understand. Naomi, look at me."

She did.

"I promise you. I swear to you . . . I will not choose him over you. I will not choose power over what we have."

Naya searched his face. His words, it seemed, were still not enough. Her chin trembled as she struggled to contain the emotion.

"Oh, Naya. Come here."

He held her as she cried gently against him. He burrowed his face into her wild garden of hair and replayed her words in his head.

I've been wrong before. I've been wrong before.

How much more could she take, he thought. He dug contemptuously at his dormant fire.

How much more will you take from me?

But the suit of fire was nothing but a pile of embers, weakly burning. There was no telling what could be the igniting force that brought it back to life.

You stay there, just like that, Uriel spat. I'm going to find the marida before you get the chance to ruin my life again.