“I overhear talk of the sultan.”

Suppressing a groan, Loulie turned and surveyed the deck. Other than the sailors, she spotted a few scattered groups of people. She walked between them, keeping her expression blank as she eavesdropped. As little interest as she had in the sultan, she could not afford to ignore the gossip. Not when she, a criminal, always tried to avoid his men.

But while she caught two sailors trading profanity-laden opinions, heard a couple confessing forbidden love to one another, and was audience to a strange riddle game, she overheard nothing about the sultan.

She had just given up hope when she spotted Rasul al-Jasheen speaking with a man wearing the uniform of the sultan’s guard. Loulie quickly glanced away and slowed her pace as she approached them.

“The sultan’s councillors are beside themselves,” the guard was saying.

Rasul snorted. “Why does he not send the high prince to search for the relic?”

The guard glanced in her direction. Loulie grabbed hold of a passing sailor and asked him in her most pleasant voice if he knew where they were docking. The sailor responded, but she was not listening. Not to him, anyway.

“Could such a treasure really exist?” Rasul said.

“The rumors are that the sultan’s late wife brought up the artifact in one of her stories.”

She thanked the sailor and angled her head to catch Rasul’s response.

“Poor man. Does he truly believe Lady Shafia’s stories were true?”

The guard shrugged. “They had power enough to stop the killings, so perhaps.” There was a mournful pause. All desert dwellers knew of the sultan’s wife killings, just as all knew of Shafia, who had stopped them with her stories. She was as much a legend as the tales she’d told.

“His Majesty believes there is something in one of her stories that will help him claim a victory over the jinn.”

“Against the jinn? They are like flies; surely you cannot kill them all.” Rasul’s voice died down to a murmur. By the time the wind brought the conversation back to her ears, they were speaking about something else.

“But tell me about this miracle!” the guard said. “I hear the Midnight Merchant herself delivered the elixir to you? Do you have any idea how she obtained it?”

“None. But I suppose it wouldn’t be much of a miracle if we knew the how of it.” Rasul laughed. “Regardless, I bless the gods for my good luck. I did not think she would so readily accept my request.”

Qadir sighed in her ear. “Why do humans thank the gods for things they do not do?”

“Because they are fools that believe in fate,” Loulie said bitterly. If these gods existed, they had not batted their lashes when her family was murdered.