Alwyn Hamilton

My mother had raised me on a thousand stories of girls who were saved by the Djinn, princesses rescued from towers, peasant girls rescued from poverty.Turned out, stories were just stories.I was on my own.

I called the desert into a storm.

It was a bad idea to play chicken with someone who'd known you your whole life. Nobody came out a winner.

I seemed to still be alive. Which was unexpected. I'd feel good about it when I stopped retching my insides up.

We were going to get Ahmed back. And Rahim back. And Shazad. And Delila. And all the others who had been captured. And we were going to end this.

I hated the quiet. I could hear my fears that much louder for it.

I put a knife in your hand and your first instinct was to stab me.""You tried to stab me first," I objected without thinking.

I barged through the palace, dripping a trail of blood behind me as I held the dead bird by the neck.

You know, I never believed in fate until I met you... then I started thinking coincidence didn't have near so cruel a sense of humor