Page 105 of These Infinite Threads

“You can’t be serious,” Kamran said, horrified. “The two of you arenotcoming with us.”

“Three.” Deen cleared his throat, sounding suddenly quite peppy. “There are three of us, actually.”

“I thought you had to get home?” Kamran said darkly, turning to face the apothecarist. “I thought you said you had loved ones waiting for you. That you had no idea what you were doing here.”

“That was before I knew I was going to meet Simorgh,” said Deen, who quickly bent in half when the bird turned to look at him. “My loved ones will understand. If they even believe me.” He stared at the bird in wonder. “I can’t go home now.”

Kamran shook his head. “Are you all blind?” he cried. “There arefiveof us. We can’t all five of us fit on the back of the same bird—”

Simorgh made a call.

It was a gentle, melodious sound, but it carried nonetheless, and in a moment Kamran realized they were not alone. Simorgh had brought others—the children Zaal had known in youth, whose nest he’d shared as a babe.

Four more magnificent birds alighted at the top of the tower, the group of them peering down into the dark, trilling softly.

Briefly, Kamran closed his eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he muttered.

Deen whooped.

“If you choose to come, you’re coming under your own command,” Kamran said sharply. “Get yourselves killed and I won’t be bothered. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” cried Omid, pumping a fist in the air.

“Get ourselveskilled?” Deen frowned. “I didn’t realize we might die—”

“No, sire,” said Miss Huda, shaking her head. “With all due respect, Your Highness, I don’t think that’s very responsible of you, for we shall require a leader, and you were quite literally born for such a role—”

“Hazan,” Kamran said, pinching his nose.

“Miss Huda,” his old minster said quietly. “You may rely upon me should you require anything.”

Simorgh launched upward then with a resonant cry, landing heavily at the broken lip of the tower, which trembled under her weight. She then chirruped to her children, who landed one at a time in the round cell, loading passengers one by one.

Miss Huda first, laughing through her tears; then Omid, who hugged his bird like the child he was, unselfconsciously kissing its feathered face; then Deen, too proud to betray more than a small, delighted smile as he mounted, even as he fought an obvious swell of emotion; and then Hazan, tall and dignified, he took his seat with the humility and grace befitting a knight, nodding just once at Kamran before he ascended, with a great flap of wings, into the sky.

When finally the others were settled among the clouds, Simorgh landed once more before the prince, and Kamran approached the beautiful bird in awe. He drew his hands along her silky feathers with great reverence, then mounted the incredible creature with care.

She took off at once.

Kamran was forced backward as they ascended, and quickly hooked his arms around the bird’s graceful neck as they rose higher and higher up the destroyed spire, and once they loomed above the palace Simorgh made a cry that wrenched open the night, flapped her powerful, shimmering wings, and assumed her place at the head of the pack.

There was a thunderouscrackas she took off, and a showerof color streaked across the sky, painting the heavens in an otherworldly phosphorescence.

The sight filled him with a complicated joy.

Kamran looked back as they vanished into inky skies, wondering, with a quiver in his heart, who he might be if he ever returned.