Chapter 28
I don’t know how much longer we can do this. The Citadel suspects you. They come almost daily to the house, asking where you are. Yaseema asks questions too, and I’m afraid for her. What will her world be like without her father?
But what will it be if we don’t fight for our freedom?
—Excerpt from a letter from Mahira Nazir to Zimran Nazir, unsent
Yaseema
I had expected the beast I’d attacked to be wet and dark, that I would be choked more by the foul stench that rolled off it. But when I was inside it, the creature smelled like fresh earth, like new leaves, like life.
That is, until I was suffocating.
A distant shout sounded when it had consumed me, Kiyan again, calling my name.
The second time he’d said it.
My skin burned, and I knew my flesh was dying too, rotting, decaying, peeling off.
It was agony—until it wasn’t.
Something burned white hot on my wrist as if I’d been lit on fire from within—as if I dove into the creature with an oil lantern and set it ablaze.
Fire foamed around me.
That was the only word for it.
It wasn’t the flickering of orange-blue flames that had coiled up in a violent rage, but a soft burning, one that grew thick and round and frothed up around me.
Dead branches and flesh and fur and mulberries and flowers burned up with me. The smell was smoke and rot and death, but that other smell was there too. Something that wasn’t bad, but new. New growth, like the forest fire that gave way to the sprigs of green trees that came out of the ash.
And the bangles at my wrist—my mother’s bangles—felt heavy and cool as the rest of the world burned around me. Until my clothes gave way, and my hair plastered tightly to my neck.
“You’re safe,” Kiyan said, soft in my ear, and so close. That same voice from the woods with the halmasti, from the prison when he questioned my interest in the crown.
Low, steady, and piercing.
But somehow a voice that was trustworthy. Safe.
Hands gripped my shoulders and slipped under my knees. I was held against a solid chest, the breathing rhythmic and deep, his chest rising and falling against my body, lulling me into soft slumber.
And then the burning stopped.
And the coolness at my wrist faded.
And I fell.
* * *
I woke in my bedroom in the palace, confused at first.
Thick covers were piled on top of me, the smoothness of the sheets like clouds against my bare skin. I gasped, realizing I hadn’t a single thread of clothes on my body, and sat up, checking my wrists quickly. Relief rushed through me that my mother’s bangles still sat there.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up.”
A sardonic voice cut through my confusion.
“Mishah!” I nearly leapt out of bed before remembering my nakedness. “What happened?”
“What do you remember?” She leaned forward, her eyes keen, her elbows resting on her knees.
My vision was blurry, and I cast my gaze around for my spectacles but didn’t see them anywhere.
I glanced back to Mishah and could see enough to tell that she was still wearing her beige kitchen smock and her hair was swept back at the nape of her neck, but she had a look on her face I’d never seen before.
One that reminded me of Nani when she had first asked about the Citadel coming for me—as if she had to know but didn’t want to.
I frowned.
What did I remember?
“I was inside it. That thing.” I shuddered, and not even the finest of all the Viceroy’s bedsheets could have made me feel safe then.
Ramishah nodded. “You dove in, I’d never seen anything so idiotic. The soldiers tried to fight it off but didn’t seem to do any real damage.”
“But I remember arms pulling me out. And the feeling of fire.” I glanced again at my bracelets, the intricate gold bands unchanged and looping around my arms.
And that voice, I thought. His voice.
She hesitated a minute before answering. “Captain Kiyan went inside to help you. He pulled you out. But by then, you’d already done it.”
I touched my shoulders as if I could feel his hands there now, lifting me away from the fire, his body hard and strong.
Ramishah’s words shook me out of those thoughts as I processed what she’d said to me.
“I’d done what?”
She smiled, and her face transformed from my curious, concerned friend to someone a little bit awed.
“You’d already set it on fire. You killed the creature.”
I shook my head, not remembering any of it.
Just the soft burning. Just his voice.
“Your clothes burned off. I was surprised your hair didn’t. Kiyan carried you out and threw his cloak over you, ordering the guards to deal with the remnants of the beast and get you a healer.”
“And the Viceroy?”
“You seemed to save him by going inside the creature. He did get injured, which was more than anyone has been able to do in the years since he’s been here. But he’s alive.”
I didn’t think that was a positive thing, considering all he had done to the Court of River. But I needed that map, and I couldn’t regret saving it, not if I had any hope of helping Astola.
“Do they know how the beast got into the palace?”
She hesitated, her eyes darting to the side. There was something she wasn’t telling me.
“Mishah, I nearly got killed by that thing. Why?”
She dropped her voice so low I could barely hear her mumbled words. “They are saying it’s the work of the rebels in an attempt to kill the Viceroy.”
It was the first time I’d seen evidence that the rebels actually existed, despite Kiyan questioning me about them at every opportunity.
But if they could make something like that, a beast of rot and flesh—I could see why the Viceroy was wary of them.
Anyone that could create creatures of death like that was not to be underestimated.
Ramishah kept speaking, and I forced myself to focus on what she was saying.
“Kiyan ordered the entire staff to wait on you, whatever you needed. He’s been checking in on you since, should I tell him you’ve woken up? He was extremely angry you went inside the creature.”
“I didn’t really have a choice,” I murmured, barely hearing my words as I registered that Kiyan had carried me through the palace stark naked in his arms.
I looked down at my body again, glad I was now covered by a sheet to cover how flushed my skin had become.
“Yes, you are still naked,” Ramishah said, as if my thoughts were reflected clearly on my face.
I swallowed, then noticed Kiyan’s dark cape draped over the bed.
“Please tell me you have clothes for me.”
She gestured to a nearby chair, where a midnight-blue skirt and short blouse were folded neatly. “I’ll help you get ready.”
“I can do it myself,” I said hastily. “You’ve already seen far too much of my arse for my liking.”
She laughed. “After you destroyed that creature in the great hall, you could walk around naked every day, and the people of this palace would kiss your feet. It was heroic.”
I grimaced. “No thanks.” I gritted my teeth at the thought of more attention on me.
“What was it?” I asked quietly, slipping on the underthings that had been on the chair along with the other clothing. “The creature? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Something conjured. A creature of death. Someone with strong power must have created it. It was the second time something like that had infiltrated the palace.”
“How can an animal like that be created?”
She frowned. “Not with any magic anyone in River might possess. The Viceroy has limited our powers—especially the peris of River. They can only conjure a small fraction of what they could do before.”
“And do the rebels have someone new working for them?”
Ramishah sat on the bed, crossing her legs.
“I don’t know. When the Court of Salt came here, the royal family retreated to the Golden Palace in Tirich Mir to hunt for a weapon hidden by Queen Azari centuries ago.
But while they were searching, they triggered a trap, a curse on Tirich Mir that locked them in the palace.
The Viceroy was furious—he wanted to kill them all.
The curse both protected and damned them. They’ve been trapped ever since.”
I thought of the looming shadow of the Mountain in the distance, bigger than any mountain I’d ever seen.
Tirich Mir.
It was still inconceivable to me that we couldn’t see it from our side of the River, even with the magical wall.
I put the blouse over my head, pulling my hair through the opening. My fingers stopped abruptly when they felt rough, singed ends.
“My hair.”
Ramishah walked over to me. “I guess you did burn it after all.”
One side of my hair had a rough, uneven texture, burnt from the power of the flames. “I’ll have to chop it.” Right now, my hair went down to my waist, but to get rid of the burn I’d have to slice it off at the shoulders.
Mishah brushed the burnt strands with her hands, examining it. “A small price to pay.”
“For my life? Yes.”
Despite my protests she helped wrap the skirt around me, folding and tucking it at the side.
“All that lovely hair,” she muttered, as she brushed it out. Then she turned her sharp eyes on me. “How did you do it? How did you set the fire?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I was pulled inside it. I’m not sure I did much with that dagger. But then it just started burning. And then I felt his—Kiyan’s—hands on my shoulders. And then it just went black.”
I didn’t mention my mother’s bangles to her, nor the magic I’d felt emanating from them.
I still wanted to keep my mother’s secrets close to my chest. Especially when I didn’t know what it meant yet.
She mulled over my words, chewing her bottom lip in thought.
“Wasn’t the Salt festival a celebration for the Viceroy? It makes sense if it was the rebels responsible for the attack.”
“Far too much sense.” The low rumble of Kiyan’s voice came from the open doorway.
Thankfully, I was clothed now.
Ramishah made a little squeak of surprise and then leapt up, gathering a bundle of linens in her arms before sweeping out the door.
I tried to call after her, but it was too late. I felt a lot better in Kiyan’s presence when she was here, because then I didn’t have to look right at him.