Shahla found herself in for a good time on the island, once she’d forgotten her initial fear and had two hours of rest. It wasn’t much to make up for the lost sleep, but it was better than nothing.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves with song, dance, and laughter. Shahla couldn’t help but let the contagious celebratory mood take her. The dancers were especially incredible to watch.

The woman Shakti had said was named the Lady of Fire was the most talented of them all. She was a young woman of about twenty with the brown skin and thick black hair most Aotearoans seemed to share. She had soft and inviting features. Her warm, brown eyes seemed intrigued by Shahla whenever she was given a passing glance. She had the nimble, but strong body of a dancer and wore a traditional performer’s costume that showed off the tattoos that adorned her torso.

 To his credit, Vai managed to hold his own with her while involved in a dance they called ‘the Challenge’.

Najeem sat down at one of the many tables they’d claimed, handing her a husked coconut cut in half.

“What’s this?” Shahla asked.

“Coconut water is apparently a common refreshment here,” Najeem said, sipping from his half of the coconut. “Not bad.”

“Everything’s so beautiful here, isn’t it?” Shahla smiled.

“Don’t get too attached. We still have our mission.” Najeem’s statement put a bit of a dampener on Shahla’s mood. He seemed to notice. “Sorry. There’s a full moon tonight. Feel anything?”

Shahla shook her head, “No. I haven’t felt a thing.”

She pulled up her headscarf slightly to allow herself to drink the coconut water. It was sweet, but tasted a bit diluted.

“Would it be rude of me to go asking around about their songs?” Najeem asked, “I don’t want to pry, but I’m fascinated by their structure especially. It has much in common with Qahtanad music in a way.” 

“Najeem. You’re doing that thing again where you start thinking about stuff you’re fascinated by too much, then become obsessed with that thing and finally burn out after a week,” Shahla said.

While he didn’t have much time to do it in recent weeks, Najeem had a habit of taking his curiosity a little far. During her first week at the palace, he wouldn’t stop asking her about the Bedouins and paganism. She actually was convinced he was a heretic after all those inquiries.

“I-” Najeem grimaced, “I apologize.”

“Don’t apologize. Maybe after Qahtan is reunited, Ahmed and I will let the Order tag along with us to a vacation here,” Shahla smiled.

Najeem chuckled nervously, “That would be rather splendid, wouldn’t it?” His words felt forced. Shahla was put off by the unusual air he had about him.

Shahla frowned, “What are you thinking, Najeem?”

The Asasiyun raised an eyebrow, “What am I thinking?”

She nodded, “You seemed disturbed by my last sentence. Why?”

“I, er...I’m sorry to have concerned you, Shahla,” Najeem said, looking away and drinking from his coconut.

“Najeem, please? Just be honest with me,” Shahla tilted her head, her brows drawing together. She examined his face to see what she could gather of his thoughts from his expression.

Najeem let out a heavy breath, “Have you, Shahla, ever considered the possibility that Prince Ahmed might be dead? I appreciate your positivity, but what if he doesn’t survive his captivity?”

Shahla broke eye contact with Najeem, her heart feeling a sensation of whiplash now that dread weighed heavy on it. “I’m not stupid, Najeem,” she muttered.

“I wasn’t trying to say that,” Najeem assured her.

“I know,” she said, folding her hands together. “I’ve thought about that. But is it really so wrong to hope for the best?”

“I just worry that if the worst case scenario happens, your expectations may break you.”

Shahla nodded, “I’ll be fine, Najeem. Could we not speak of this right now?”

“As you wish,” Najeem said softly.

“Thank you.”

A sudden thump on their table caused Shahla to jerk back. The Lady of Fire had landed on their table from the meager dancer’s stage.

She jumped off and landed herself gracefully next to Najeem on his bench.

“Er...can we help you?” Najeem asked.

“Enjoying yourselves?” the Lady of Fire asked in flawed, but passable Qahtanad, wearing an infectious smile.

“Yes, we are. Thank you,” Shahla said, letting a smile take her expression as well.

“I heard from Vai that you two are looking to get to Jambudvipa.”

Najeem frowned, “You two seem awfully close for people who just met.”

“All Aotearoans are family in our eyes. And us two specifically have great mutual respect. He is a student under Mahu Kaeo, who I know very well and I am the boy’s favorite poet,” she shrugged. “It’s only natural that we get along.”

“You’re a poet?” Najeem asked. “What works have you done? I may have read some.”

“I guarantee you've never read my work. I’ve never allowed a scholar to transcribe it,” the Lady chuckled.

“Perhaps you could recite one for us, then?” Shahla asked.

“Of course!” she smiled. “This one is called Anger’s Flame. I modeled after a Nikan format. I believe they call them haikus.” She cleared her throat and put on a melancholy narrating voice for her poem, “Rage smolders within. An all-consuming wildfire. Burning fear to ash.”

“I know of haikus,” Najeem said. “They are not so hard to make. Be more impressive.”

“Najeem!” Shahla gasped.

The Lady of Fire chuckled, “You’ve a scholar’s wit, Qahtanad! My name is Lokapele. May I know yours?” 

“What?” Shahla frowned.

“It’s less funny when you have to explain it. So...nothing,” Lokapele said, still smiling wide.

“Er...I see.” Shahla looked down at her hands in her lap. Her chest tightened with embarrassment.

“I am Najeem Al-Iqbal. A member of the deadly, but learned Asasiyun Order,” Najeem introduced himself.

“Well, Najeem, I know just how curious those of your order tend to be. You must be exceedingly interested in our artistic customs. If you want to observe my singing abilities, I have rather musical moans. The straw roof of a private hut makes the sound even better.” Lokapele smirked.

Shahla and Najeem both looked to her with surprise.

There was no way she just...

“I...did you just ask me to sleep with you?” Najeem raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but…”

“You’re correct. I wanna take you to bed,” Lokapele stated, without any shame.

Shahla’s horrified eyes moved to Najeem. Shahla didn’t want this to escalate, but...how was Najeem meant to respond? 

Najeem sighed, “I understand that your laws of sexual promiscuity here are different, but understand that I am a man of God. As such, I could never accept such an offer.”

Shahla stared in disbelief at Najeem’s calmness towards the situation.

Lokapele shrugged, “Fine by me. You two enjoy each other’s company. There’s a particularly muscled dancer I kept in mind as a second option.”

As she left, Shahla shuddered, “How can she be so...upfront with that? Does she have no shame?”

Najeem tilted his head, “I mean, that’s not necessarily a bad thing…but consider how far we are from our home. One of my masters once told me that each land has a god that presides over it.”

“Wouldn’t that be heresy?” Shahla asked. “There is supposed to be only one God.”

“All avenues must be considered to arrive at truth,” Najeem shrugged. “Nevertheless, they still operate on the rules of a different god. I wouldn’t blame them too much. It could take another hundred years before the word of our Prophet even graces the ears of these folk.”

“Well, we could do that,” Shahla shrugged.

“The Imams always taught us to keep a humble spirit and an open mind,” Najeem said. “Wisdom is in many places and must be drawn from a variety of sources or else remain stagnant. Perhaps the Islander way of thinking has something to offer us.”

Shahla groaned, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound this pretentious before.”

“Equally, I have never known you to advocate for conversion expeditions into the Bedouin territories. So I don’t get why you’re so eager now,” Najeem said.

The sound of commotion caught her attention. Well...commotion was too broad. The dancers and party goers had all gathered around one man, who shouted at them with a panic-infused voice. Murmurs turned into shouts and shouts into widespread pandemonium.

The crowd scattered, shouting and yelling at each other while they pushed each other out of the way to get to their huts. Najeem stood, his hand on his blade once again.

“You two.” Shakti appeared from seemingly nowhere.

“What’s going on?” Shahla asked.

“There was a fleet of boats spotted coming to shore,” the Jambudvipi woman said.

“Were they Qahtanad?” Najeem asked.

Could Ali have followed them here? Shahla closed her sweating hands into fists.

Shakti shook her head, “Nikan Junks.”