Nazirah weaves through the crowd towards the running stretch limousine with tinted windows. “Good to see you again, Olag,” Nazirah says in greeting. Olag only grunts at the three of them, motioning them to get in while he loads the trunk.
Nazirah scurries inside first. She’s instantly greeted by the cherubic, joyful face of Solomon Salaahi. “Oh, Miss Nation!” exclaims Solomon, attempting to bow low even while sitting down. “It is wonderfully refreshing to see you again, although you have arrived a bit earlier than anticipated! Early bird gets the worm!” Solomon’s hands tenderly grasp one of Nazirah’s as Adamek and Aldrik enter.
Aldrik spots some ice chips chilling in a nearby bucket and greedily scoops them up to rub over his sweaty face. Nazirah cringes. Aldrik drops the now-melted chips into an empty glass beside him. He pulls out a flask from his pocket, fills the glass up, and then downs the sweaty-spirit concoction in one gulp.
“Er,” Solomon says, “please make yourselves … comfortable.”
Aldrik belches, eyes darting between Nazirah and Solomon suspiciously. “You two know each other?” he asks, waving his empty flask.
Solomon smiles, says, “Only the way that flesh knows bone, the way the moon knows its craters.”
“Right …” replies Aldrik uncertainly.
Nazirah glances out the window. Even though it’s dark outside, the red dust illuminates the chimerical landscape. Olag weaves the limo through the winding, precarious streets of Rubiyat at breakneck speed. He overtakes a caravan and several donkeys, waving his fist angrily.
Solomon shakes Adamek’s hand enthusiastically. “And the handsome Mr. Morgen,” he says. “You are looking much better since last we met! Glad to see that lip healed nicely.”
“Now hold on just a moment!” Aldrik demands angrily. “Who are you?”
Solomon bows low again. “Solomon Salaahi,” he says. “At your service, Mr. Slome.”
Olag swerves sharply, narrowly dodging another caravan. Solomon flies headfirst into Nazirah’s lap. Nazirah blushes profusely and helps Solomon to his seat. She hands Solomon his minute fez, which he shoves onto his head, slightly askew. He proceeds to utter several guttural curses directed at Olag in Deathlandic. Nazirah has no idea what Solomon says, but Adamek snorts appreciatively.
“You’re Solomon Salaahi?” Aldrik asks, clearly shocked. “The Solomon Salaahi?”
“Expecting someone taller?” he responds, winking at Nazirah.
“Okay, Solomon,” Aldrik grumbles. “I’ll bite. Where exactly are you taking us?”
Nazirah is wondering the same thing. She really hopes they don’t have to sleep in the prison. The telephone in the limousine rings and Solomon reaches for the receiver. “Enough with the questions!” he bellows, voice surprisingly deep for so small a person. “You are my guests and you are welcome in my territory with open arms! Please relax and enjoy the beautiful scenery!” He begins conversing loudly in Deathlandic with the person on the other line.
Aldrik leans in close to Nazirah. “And how exactly,” he hisses, “is an Eridian-born intermix so tight with the famous Solomon Salaahi?”
“He’s famous?” she asks evasively. Nazirah’s trip to bargain for Adamek’s amnesty is not something she is open to discussing, especially not with the likes of Drill Sergeant Patch.
Aldrik gets extremely agitated. “We have a mission to accomplish on this campaign, Nation!” he snaps. “If you both keep hiding things from me, we’re going to fail … spectacularly.”
“Hiding things from you?”
“Don’t play dumb,” he growls. “I know you’ve got the village idiot act down pat, but it doesn’t work on me. Did you think I wouldn’t notice the two of you sneaking off last night? And what was that shit you pulled today, in the slums? I don’t care if you both have lovers from Rafu to Kivar. While you’re campaigning – until we storm the last skytower in Mediah, for that matter – you will present a united front to the country! People already think you’re in love, so you better start acting like it!”
“Easy to say,” she mutters.
The limo turns onto a long, hidden driveway bordered by cacti and lemon groves. They are definitely not at the prison, much to Nazirah’s relief. Olag eventually pulls in front of a large mansion and kills the engine. Nazirah hops out of the limo, unable to keep the awe off her face. Terracotta urns taller than she is guard the front entrance. A huge azure door, embellished in gold, welcomes visitors inside. Vines hang from a ceiling trellis of dark wooden beams. Minarets and marbled columns tower above her. It’s open, flowing, and completely unlike anything Nazirah has seen before.
“Beautiful, is it not?” asks Solomon happily, standing beside her.
“This is where we’re staying?” she asks, shocked. “How is this still Rubiyat?” It’s such a far cry from the seedy inn, such a far cry from anything she’s ever thought of the Red West, Nazirah needs to pinch herself.
“Yes,” Solomon says proudly, waving his arms around. “Welcome to my riad, my home. You will be safe here for as long as you need to stay in this territory. You deserve a true Deathlandic welcome, Miss Nation, and that is exactly what you shall get!”
“You live here?” she asks in astonishment.
Solomon nods, beckoning for everyone to follow him indoors.
“As if you didn’t know,” says Aldrik, whistling in appreciation. “This is more like it!” He runs a finger over a marble column, leisurely walking through the gated entrance.
Nazirah turns to Adamek. “How well do they pay at the prison?” she asks in a hushed voice.
“Solomon’s not just head of security,” he says. “He comes from one of the wealthiest, oldest, most respected families in all of Renatus. He chooses to spend his days at the prison because that’s what he finds fulfilling, I suppose. My father has tried to win his family’s allegiance for decades, but the Salaahis are famous for their neutrality.”
They walk through the entrance. All around Nazirah are beautiful mosaics, tiles in various shades of blue. Iron lanterns, illuminated by candlelight, hang at varying lengths. Gold leaf flakes the ceiling. Now Nazirah is sure she’s dreaming. “He doesn’t seem very neutral,” she says skeptically.
They stop under an archway. “He’s not,” Adamek says. “But this riad is a longstanding sanctuary of neutrality, which is why we can safely stay here.”
“My friends,” Solomon addresses them, the perfect image of a dapper host. “Olag will show you to your rooms. Please have a restful night. We will discuss more unpleasant matters over breakfast in the morning … a true Red West feast.”
Solomon gives a short bow and departs quickly, leaving the three of them with Olag. They follow him through a stunning courtyard garden, rife with exotic plants and flowers, a huge fountain cascading in the center. Adamek walks behind Nazirah. He gently pulls up her chin and shuts her gaping mouth. “Wouldn’t want the dust to get in,” he says.
Nazirah is confused by his playfulness, until she sees Aldrik nod approvingly at them. Play along, Adamek’s eyes say. Nazirah smiles slightly, trying to ignore the rush she feels at his touch. Olag gives them a curious look, before leading their party indoors again and up a flight of stairs. They walk into an open corridor, constructed of graceful arches that make it seem like they’re still outside. Olag stops in front of a door, nodding at Aldrik. Aldrik doesn’t even look at them before slamming the door shut in their faces. The smell of fried hair and booze lingers in his stead.
Olag leads them a ways down the corridor, pausing in front of another door and inclining his head towards Adamek. Adamek nods at the two of them, wordlessly entering his room. Olag continues walking, stopping before a final door.
“Goodnight, Olag,” Nazirah says. She is about to enter when he hands her a small scroll of paper.
Nazirah unfurls the scroll as she enters her room, inhaling the scents of amber, myrrh, and musk. An iron-framed canopy bed sits atop a large geometric rug. The bed overflows with deep satins, velvets, and gauzy drapes. The room opens onto a small balcony, overlooking the courtyard garden, and is alight with ornate hanging lanterns and waxy candles. Speechless, Nazirah enters the bathroom. It’s covered in mosaic tiles, replete with a sunken tub and open shower.