This book is a sequel to Khalifa and cannot be read as a standalone. To avoid spoilers, description and excerpt are added inside the book.
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Started: May 2, 2022.
Completed: December 3, 2022.
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cover by @xniftykayx
There is nothing in this story that's not a dagger.
— Mikko Harvey
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Eskander
"That boy took my sword."
"Who?"
"That boy with the big head."
He narrows his eyes at her. Her hair is sticking out of her braids, as if someone has pulled it.
"Did you fight again?"
"He fought me!" she defends.
"You can take my sword," he offers.
"No!" she whines, stomping her foot. "Joojoo gave me that sword. I'll only play with his sword."
"Nour--"
"Baba told us to take care of each other. I'll tell baba you're a bad brother!" She sniffs, covering her eyes. "You cannot bring my sword from the big head boy."
He watches her shed a few tears and quibble incoherently over her sword before he grabs her hand and shushes her.
"Fine, don't cry. Let us go get your sword."
She perks up instantly and grins through her tears. "He ran away there." She points in the direction, leading him along. "Call your friend, Esh-kander."
"Who?"
"Magic prince."
"Why?"
"Because he has magic!" She giggles, as if he is stupid for not understanding. "He will vanish the big head boy with magic so he never takes my sword again."
"He will not take your sword again," he assures her.
"Really?"
He nods.
"Will you beat him up?" she suggests hopefully. "You're taller than him. He will be scared of you. And you're going to be a soldier. Soldiers are strong. Are you strong, Esh-kander?" she rambles.
He only nods again in reply.
Her grins widens. "I am happy you are with me. You're a good brother!" she exclaims in joy. "I will take care of you too."
She frees her hand from his and runs towards a group of boys. He rushes after her. She yells at them in warning.
"Give me back my sword or my brother will beat you! He's a soldier!"
He stares out through the window of the infirmary with thoughts somewhere faraway-- absent-minded, lost. He has been standing on the same spot for God knows how long, leaning against the wall, legs becoming numb now. The day is half gone and evening is soon to set in. A few candles light the room faintly where he's waiting. His eyelids flutter close, tired.
