Heart of Steel - Meljean Brook [116]
Temür had rebuilt this into an amazing city. When last he’d been here, all had been yellow from the desert, a city baked and a people who simply lived and worked. But now, almost all of the buildings had been painted in whites and blues, and trees sheltered the streets from the sun. The people no longer looked so downtrodden. Several called up to Hassan with warmth. But on every face, there was still the wary glance, the tight pinch of a mouth—only the children playing seemed to lack it.
The gates in the kasbah walls were open, and Archimedes saw no guards. The enormous tower filled up the corner of the courtyard on Archimedes’ right. A fountain spilled water on their left. Farther inside, only two guards stood at the palace entrance, and those not heavily armed—and not a single man wore the Horde’s walking suit, that machine of steam and steel that could crush a body beneath its massive feet. A masjid had been built at the end of the courtyard, a simple dome and four minarets. He caught Yasmeen’s eye. Her small nod said that she thought the same thing: Temür had been working very hard to bring the people to him. Judging by the small number who milled about, they hadn’t been coming.
Nasrin turned in her seat. “I have forgotten to tell you, Mr. Gunther-Baptiste—I have greatly enjoyed your stories.”
He was surprised. “You’ve read them?”
“Of course. We have many of the publications from the New World sent to us, and Temür and I have long followed the adventures of Archimedes Fox. We have missed a few chapters, however.”
Yasmeen frowned. “You knew he was also Archimedes?”
“Yes. We were not certain at first, but in every story, a new brightly colored waistcoat for Mr. Fox was faithfully described as if dictated.” Her laugh was delicate, the ringing of a silver bell. “We knew he could not be anyone else.”
“I thought he didn’t know,” Archimedes said. “That the assassins only found me by luck—there were so few.”
“Oh, no. Those are men who Temür deemed incompetent, but for one reason or another, it would have been . . . delicate, to dispose of them. So he sent them to find you, knowing they would not be returning.”
Taken aback, Archimedes shook his head. “That’s oddly flattering.”
Yasmeen said, “So it wasn’t regarding Archimedes’ debt?”
Nasrin’s brows lifted. “Archimedes? You use that name at all times now?”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
Her gaze slipped to Yasmeen. “And you are Captain Fox. I thought you were untethered.”
Untethered? After a second, Archimedes understood. Nasrin’s life was dependent upon Temür’s continuing; she wondered if Yasmeen’s life was tethered to his in the same way.
“She’s not,” he said, but Yasmeen added, “I might as well be,” and he couldn’t speak again immediately, so great was the emotion crushing his chest. She had not even said that she loved him yet, not in as many words. But now she declared, so very simply, that his death would be like her own.
It wouldn’t be—and thank God for it, because that meant if he was ever killed, she would likely go on a tear of vengeance unlike the world had ever seen.
Nasrin’s gaze held Yasmeen’s. “Hassan has also been telling me of your journey, and how you came to captain the airship. I offer apologies for my insult.”
“Thank you, Lady Nasrin, but there was no insult taken.”
“You are very kind, and a liar.”
“And you are fully altered.”
The women smiled at each other for a long moment. Nasrin looked to Archimedes again, whose bemusement must have been clear. She said, “It is true. When you are fully altered, you have not much need to use lies as protection—though they are still useful when protecting others. Your name is a lie like that, I suppose, though you hardly needed protection from us.”
“No?”
“Temür was angry after you destroyed the barge, it was true—but we also recognized that sending you out so quickly after