Zhian lets out a long, slow breath, his pupils dilating until his eyes are entirely black. His form changes, growing and sharpening, horns sprouting from his head and his feet hardening into hooves. His skin takes on a reddish tint, and smoke gathers around him. He is part man, part bull, part smoke.
Caspida gasps, and the sound catches Zhian’s ear. He turns toward her, his eyes settling on the lamp.
“If you won’t come by choice, sister,” he growls, “then you will be dragged to the Shaitan’s feet!”
“No!” I shout, springing and shifting all at once. With my abilities limited by the lamp, I can’t take a shape to match his in strength, but I have to do something. I take tiger form, bounding across the grass and leaping to intercept him before he can strike Caspida. The princess bravely holds up her blade, ready to meet him, but it will hardly save her. Zhian is twice her size now and much, much deadlier.
I strike him in the chest, just enough to throw him off balance and block his blow.
“Caspida!” I growl. “I can’t hold him off much longer!”
Zhian clouts me hard in the ribs, and I fly through the air and land hard on the grass, digging in my claws to spring back at him. Dirt flies everywhere as I bound toward the jinni, a snarl baring my fangs. He’s ready when I spring, and he steps aside, batting me hard into the earth. I roll wildly toward the cliff’s edge, barely saving myself from toppling over it. Zhian holds out a hand, a flame flickering to life above his palm. In moments, the flame swells into a writhing knot of fire.
This he hurls at me, and I throw myself wide as the flames explode where I’d been standing.
“Caspida!” I cry, shifting again, back into my human form. This time, I’m dressed in leather leggings and a cropped bandeau, my hands each gripping a long, curved sword. I run toward Zhian, and when he swings at me, I drop to my knees, skidding across the grass as I slice at his legs. He roars when one of the blades cuts his thigh. Smoke pours from the wound, which closes immediately.
He manifests a sword of his own, and I stagger in the attempt to block his strike. I parry once, twice, thrice, before his superior strength knocks both my swords from my hands and they dissolve into smoke. He lets his own evaporate, and he lunges for me, wrapping a massive hand around my throat and lifting me high, my feet dangling.
“All those years ago,” he growls, “when my father was purging the Shaitan, eliminating all his rivals, I begged for your life. You would have been killed like all the others, but I told him you were different. I saved you, and this is how you repay me?”
I can’t reply. He’s crushing my throat. I start to shift, but he shakes me hard, making my head ring until I can’t even think what to shift to. My vision turns dark, and I realize he isn’t going to stop. He intends to kill me here and now.
But then a sudden prickle of energy races across my skin, and words penetrate the raging pain in my head, like soft feathers drifting through a storm.
“I wish for my Watchmaidens to be brought safely to me.”
Caspida has made a wish. Not the wish I’d wanted to hear, but it’s enough to grant me a thousand and one times more strength than I have on my own. I burst into smoke, swelling in a plume above Zhian’s head. He snarls and whirls to Caspida, but she is not alone. Raz, Ensi, Nessa, and Khavar all stand around her, staggering a bit, their eyes wide with confusion and horror at the sight of the jinn prince. I pour onto the grass, back into human shape, and run to Caspida.
“What’s going on?” cries Ensi, her hands in her powder pouches. “What by Imohel is that?”
Zhian draws himself up, his dark gaze fixed on me. “You know what happens next.”
I nod.
“I will tell Nardukha of your treachery, and he will come. He will rouse from the depths of Ambadya and bring with him all his jinn, and we will destroy you, this boy, and this entire city.”
“Go, then,” says Caspida suddenly, stepping forward. She spits at the jinn prince. “Damn you, and damn all your kind. I am Queen Caspida of the Amulens, and I do not fear you. Bring your worst, because I will be waiting.”
I touch her arm. “Princess, you don’t have to—”
She shrugs me away and raises her sword toward Zhian. “This war between our people has gone on far too long. Let it end today. Aladdin and Zahra are my citizens, and I will defend them to my last breath.”
He snarls, tensing as if to spring at us, but Caspida whirls and cries, “Now, Nessa!”
As Zhian lunges, the jinn charmer pulls out her flute and begins to play, the music stopping him dead. I conjure a thick turban for myself, covering my ears and blocking the sound. Her music holds Zhian enthralled, his mouth slack and his eyes dull. Her hands tremble, but she doesn’t miss a note.