For a girl like Zafira Iskandar, social distancing is a blessing. Being the designated food provider means she can continue hunting in the forest and taking care of her people, but now, she doesn't have to worry about anyone getting too close and noticing the tall, slim boy wearing a not-so-great-disguise is actually a girl. Who knew viruses were bad for gossip?

Nasir Ghameq prefers his marks out in the open, meandering the sands of the sooq or wrangling an irritated camel. Assassins that require leaping in through windows can lead to all sorts of complications—slipping into a bedroom and finding your mark is decidedly... not alone? No, Nasir's ears aren't burning red right now. It is what it is, however, and a pandemic makes no difference to the Prince of Death, particularly one still leashed to his master. Both have a penchant for stealing souls, after all.

One can't be as perfect as Altair al-Badawi if they did not care for themselves. Is there a virus circulating the streets? Altair has plenty to do behind closed doors, shukrun. Akhh, please extract your head from the trenches, habibi. We mean plotting and scheming. Sending out missives and drinking qahwa. Needling Nasir by slipping crude notes beneath the prince's door. Social distancing requires remaining six feet apart from every other soul. He might be terribly lonely and sorely miss the zumra, but Sultan's teeth, people.

Little irritates Kifah Darwish as much as her father—and being confined. For the warrior who can't sit still for long, quarantine is akin to a prison sentence, but luckily for her, the kitchen is stocked and her restless hands can busy themselves with baking, cooking, and enjoying every last bite—though she does make a habit of sending some to essential workers, along with a good helping of hope. It keeps them going. And if she has time to send photos of each tantalizing bite to Altair, fellow foodie, all the better.

Benyamin Haadi is no stranger to quarantine. He is safin, and the immortal, pointy-eared folk have been squirreling behind the walls of their caliphate ever since magic disappeared and this cursed existence took hold. Food? Stocked. House? Pristine. Books? He can curl up like a cat and work his way through them for an eternity. He can reminisce with his beautiful wife about days past. Scribe letters to the brother of his heart far away in Sultan's Keep. Bask in the early sun. Do nothing. Ah, the life.

We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal

People lived because she killed. People died because he lived.

Zafira is the Hunter, disguising herself as a man when she braves the cursed forest of the Arz to feed her people. Nasir is the Prince of Death, assassinating those foolish enough to defy his autocratic father, the sultan. If Zafira was exposed as a girl, all of her achievements would be rejected; if Nasir displayed his compassion, his father would punish him in the most brutal of ways. Both Zafira and Nasir are legends in the kingdom of Arawiya—but neither wants to be.

War is brewing, and the Arz sweeps closer with each passing day, engulfing the land in shadow. When Zafira embarks on a quest to uncover a lost artifact that can restore magic to her suffering world and stop the Arz, Nasir is sent by the sultan on a similar mission: retrieve the artifact and kill the Hunter. But an ancient evil stirs as their journey unfolds—and the prize they seek may pose a threat greater than either can imagine.