The Blue Eye
Third instalment in Ausma Zehanat Khan's powerful epic fantasy quartet: a series that lies somewhere between N. K. Jemisin and George R. R. Martin, in which a powerful band of women must use all the powers at their disposal to defeat a dark and oppressive, patriarchal regime The Companions of Hira have used their cunning and their magic in the battle against the patriarchal Talisman, an organization whose virulently conservative agenda restricts free thought. One of the most accomplished Companions, Arian, continues to lead a disparate group in pursuit of the one artifact that could end the Talisman’s authoritarian rule: The Bloodprint. But after a vicious battle, the arcane tome has slipped once more beyond her reach. Despite being separated and nearly losing their lives, Arian’s band of allies has remained united. Yet now, the group seems to be fracturing. To continue the fight, Arian must make a dangerous journey to a distant city to recruit new allies. But instead of her trusted friends, she is accompanied by associates she may no longer be able to trust. Building on the brilliance of The Bloodprint and The Black Khan, this third volume in the Khorasan Archive series ratchets up the danger, taking the conflict to a darker, deadlier place, and setting the stage for the thrilling conclusion to this acclaimed #ownvoices fantasy.
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THE BLUE EYE
Book Three of the Khorasan Archives
Ausma Zehanat Khan
HarperVoyager
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Copyright © Ausma Zehanat Khan 2019
Jacket design Micaela Alcaino © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Jacket Illustration © Shutterstock.com
Ausma Zehanat Khan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008171674
Ebook Edition © September 2019 ISBN: 9780008171698
Version: 2019-09-11
For my darling Nozzie,
who would hide with me in the Cave of Thawr, leave it all behind to follow me on hijra, who would journey with me through Israa e Miraj … and be waiting on the other side.
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Map
Prologue
Acknowledgments
Cast of Characters
Glossary of the Khorasan Archives
About the Author
Also by Ausma Zehanat Khan
About the Publisher
THEY WOULDN’T KILL HIM AT THE COUNCIL. THE TALISMAN COMMANDERS were suspicious of Daniyar, but they held fast to the rules of the loya jirga, the consultation Daniyar had asked for with the leaders of the Talisman tribes. The Shin War, in particular, held themselves to a higher standard. Their commitment to their own honor was the reason Daniyar retained any hope of returning to the Black Khan’s city unharmed.
Once he returned to the safety of Ashfall, this temporary reprieve would end. Though Daniyar was one of the Shin War, as well as the Guardian of Candour—the city that was now the capital of the Talisman—he would be seen as an enemy. As such, he would be hunted with the same ferocity as the Black Khan himself, unless he could persuade the Talisman commanders that their war against the Khan was futile—that they should retreat for the sake of their own survival. For the sake of the boys who had known too much war, boys conscripted by force.
He’d passed many of those boys on his way to the Talisman’s central command. Their eyes were sunken in their haggard faces, their cheeks hollow with hunger. Though they hoisted Talisman standards and readied themselves for battle, their hopelessness haunted him.
He had walked in their midst without fear, meeting each one’s gaze, the Sacred Cloak flowing down his back as he passed, deliberately permitting it to brush their hands even though he knew the Talisman would consider his act a sacrilege. To take something holy that had been guarded for centuries and now allow the basest rabble to touch it was to dishonor the Cloak in their eyes. And as contemptible as that idea was to Daniyar—that some were more deserving of grace than others—he didn’t think of the Talisman’s legions as contemptible. As he met their eyes, eyes that were blue, green, amber-gold, or dark, midnight-flecked brown, he thought of them as his own. Shin War or not, these boys who fought the Talisman’s wars, and inflicted the Talisman’s cruelties, had once been his trust as Guardian of Candour.
He’d called for the loya jirga as much for them as for himself.
Somehow, they must have known it.
As he passed through their ranks unmolested, each boy bowed his head, unable to sustain the clarity of his brilliant silver gaze. Two Talisman pages leapt forward to raise the flaps of the tent as he entered. He memorized their faces and thanked them in a quiet voice.
Bewildered by this show of respect, they retreated without daring to speak. Daniyar sighed, the movement of his powerful shoulders shifting the Cloak to one side. They reminded him of Wafa, the Hazara boy under his care who distrusted any show of kindness.
