The Tyrant's Nephew by Sophie Masson

Author:Sophie Masson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Australia
Published: 2006-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

Some time later dawn arrived, and shortly after, Madinatu came into view. The first thing Omar saw as the carpet dipped and banked sharply down was the forbidding dark mass of the Black Prison. He hoped with all his heart that it wasn’t an evil omen.

Seventeen

On Ketta’s advice, they landed in a dark, deserted alleyway, which obviously served as a dump for the Carpet Bazaar, which backed on to it. Omar rolled the carpet up and hid it deep in a pile of old carpet ends that looked like they had been there for years; he could only hope no-one would discover it before he had a chance to retrieve it. For he had decided that as soon as he had freed Latifa from the spell he would take her and Ketta, fly back to Sadana, pick up his mother and sister, cram them all on the carpet, and fly to Ameerat, where he would ask for help to disappear far away from Mesomia.

Omar picked up some mud from the road and rubbed it on his face and hands. He tore his shirt. He had to look as though he’d put up a struggle. Ketta watched him. She came purring over to him and rubbed at his legs. He heard her voice. ‘You need more than that. I think I’ll have to do some damage myself.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘This,’ and she jumped up onto his shoulder. Her paws moved like lightning, one, two, three times, and Omar yelled in genuine shock as the blood pearled from long scored scratches on his shoulders and arms. They stung like crazy.

‘Your face,’ she said.

He shouted, ‘No!’ but it was too late; her claws had drawn blood across one cheek, and then across his forehead.

‘The Shadow Walkers are not tender,’ she said harshly, as he staggered in shock. ‘None of these will actually hurt you, but they look bad – the forehead especially bleeds like mad – and it’s more unlikely now that anyone will think of doubting your story. Now go, Omar. The palace is just a few streets away. By the time you get there, you should look pretty bad.’

‘But you …’ Omar could hardly get the words out. He could feel the blood running down his face and into his mouth. The scratches stung. He felt light-headed. ‘Aren’t you coming with me?’

‘I cannot be seen entering the palace with you, Omar. I will try to enter through the fireplace in your room, but they may have discovered the breach in their security by now and repaired it. If so, I will be waiting for you in the guards’ courtyard tonight at midnight. Make sure you’re there.’

And she turned tail and melted into the shadows, her whiteness soon lost from view. Omar was on his own.

He had a dry catch in his throat, and his heart banged away in his chest. The pain of Ketta’s scratches made him feel rather dizzy. He must draw on every scrap of courage he had to do what he must do.

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