21. Maybe I Could Set The Drapes On Fire
Maybe I Could Set The Drapes On Fire
The dawn ceremony of the phoenix rising couldn’t come soon enough. Unlike yesterday, Mali didn’t walk with me. I squinted into the crowd. Finally, just as the song swelled, there she was, a few steps from the king.
Mali also wasn't at first meal. I asked Salma, and she told me that Mali was probably dining with the king in their chambers.
I lingered in the main room of the Seraglio, hoping for her return. Midday came and went while I developed a useful new skill. Professional lurking. When she finally appeared in a swirl of purple satin and surrounded by servants, she went straight for the entrance to her chambers.
I jumped up to intercept her. “Mali, may I speak to you for a minute? I have something important—“
“Not right now, dear,” she cut me off. “I have to bathe and get to the council meeting.”
The door clicked shut behind her. Breath caught somewhere in my ribs. The eunuch outside her chambers didn’t blink—just stared.
I stepped back. Making a scene would only get me thrown in a cell. There had to be a better solution—I just had to use my head.
But time was slipping away, and at this rate, my head was going to overthink itself into an early grave.
They wouldn’t release him on my word that the coordinates were accurate.
They wouldn’t release him until they had the headpiece in hand.
And depending on where the coordinates led, retrieving it could take longer than we had.
And we didn’t have much. Less than two days until his execution.
Think!
I could fake a medical episode. Collapse in a heap. But would Mali actually come check on me? Doubtful. More likely, she’d send a servant to drag my ‘unconscious’ body aside so I wasn’t blocking the hall.
Maybe I could set the drapes on fire. That could backfire in more ways than one. Literally. And pyromania seemed like a poor addition to my already questionable resume.
I stopped pacing and sat down on a crimson satin cushion. I had a spectacularly bad idea about how to get her attention. Oh, this was either brilliant… or I was about to get myself killed. Maybe both.
I was going to accuse her of treason.
I sat with that for exactly one second. A queen. I was going to accuse a queen of murder. In her own palace. Where I was already a captive. Where the only person who might care if I disappeared was currently in a cell being fitted for a funeral pyre.
My stomach turned over once, hard.
Then I picked up the thread of the plan and kept pulling, because the alternative was doing nothing, and doing nothing wasn't something I knew how to survive.
A servant appeared from Mali’s quarters and started toward the Seraglio exit. Probably fetching something for her. Which meant she’d be back. And soon, if I were lucky. Maybe I could slip her a note.
But what if the servant read it? Outing Mali as a conspirator in King Asad’s assassination would do more harm than good. She had to believe I wouldn’t expose her.
I was running out of time. Then it hit me—Salma.
Darting through the common area, I found her in an alcove. She was mixing pigment, fingers streaked with color.
“Can I have a scrap of papyrus? And a piece of charcoal?” My words stumbled over themselves.
“Of course,” she said, handing me the supplies. “You okay? You look… flustered.”
“Oh, no. I’m fine.” I forced a smile—and probably looked like I’d lost my mind. “You know when inspiration strikes…” And by ‘inspiration,’ I mean ‘unhinged plans born of desperation.’
I grabbed a side table, crouched over it, and scribbled a circle with a dot in the center for the sun. And then under it, the astrological symbol for Juno, a scepter topped with a star. The queen under the sun. I shoved the charcoal back into Salma’s hand. “Thanks!”
“What—”
Her question died on her lips as I bolted back down the hall, folding the reed sheet in a jittery, haphazard way.
Anyone reading it would see nothing but shapes and lines.
Random symbols. Maybe they would know what the symbols represented, but they wouldn’t understand the significance.
It would only mean something to the person who drew that map.
I made it back in time to see the servant girl enter with a metal samovar containing what smelled like mint tea. I rushed to intercept her.
“Radiant day to you. Do you mind giving this to Mali, please?” I asked in the sweetest voice I could muster. Which, given my current stress levels, probably sounded more manic than sweet, but we were working with what we had.
Confusion flickered across her face, but she took the note without question. I watched as the eunuchs opened the door to Mali’s quarters, allowing the girl to pass. Taking a deep breath, I walked back to my quarters and sat on the edge of my bed. All I could do was move the chess piece and wait.
It didn’t take long. In less time than I dared to hope, Mali stormed into the room, her eyes blazing. She slammed the door behind her. I was right! I was also possibly about to die, but at least I was right!
“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, holding out the note. She wore nothing but a robe, her long black hair knotted on top of her head.
“I have no intention of doing anything with the knowledge of what those symbols mean regarding something that happened five years ago.”
There. Vague enough to maintain plausible deniability, specific enough that she'd understand. This wouldn’t work if she perceived me as too much of a threat. Besides, we both understood that there was no need to spell it out. What she had done and what I knew were obvious to both of us.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“I’m no one.” Which was true in the grand scheme of things. Just a girl with a dangerous amount of knowledge and a spectacularly poor sense of self-preservation.
She glared at me.
“I meant what I said,” I pressed on. “What I know won’t go anywhere. I’m not a threat to you.”
“That is for me to decide. I can have you joining your friend in a heartbeat.”
“I know.”
“Then why?” Her words were clipped.
“I need you to get me an audience with the king.”
“And why, by Helios, would I do that?” She bristled, voice rising with every word.
“Because I can tell you where to find the headpiece of the Staff of Helios.”
She jerked once, blinked twice, then seemed to get herself back under control. I almost laughed—almost.
“You have my attention.”
“I can decipher the tapestry,” I explained. “I know how to calculate the coordinates.”
“And you want to bargain for the assassin.”
She was no fool—and definitely understood leverage when she saw it.
“Yes.”
After all… if King Faisal and Mali orchestrated the assassination, did they really think Griffon deserved death?
They hired him, for stars sake. The headpiece had to be worth far more to them.
Griffon was already in a cell. The headpiece could give them access to one of the most powerful relics in existence. Seemed like a simple choice to me.
She studied my face. I didn’t know how to convince her I wasn’t making it all up. I tried to look confident and knowledgeable instead of terrified and completely winging it.
“Many have tried to solve the tapestry, and all have failed. If you fail, you will join your dear assassin on the pyre. Is he worth that much to you?”
“Yes.”
No pause. Just the bare and reckless truth.
I understood the risk I was taking. Knew what the cost would be if this didn’t work. And even if it did…trusting them to hold their end of the bargain was either really brave. Or really stupid.
Was he worth it?
I wanted to convince myself I was doing this out of obligation. Our very lop-sided tally of lives saved and debts owed. But my chest twisted, because I knew it wasn’t.
It was Griffon. Even with all his rough edges. And his anger issues. And his skittish vulnerability. Somewhere along the way, he’d burrowed into the spaces I didn’t know I had.
Watching him get marched out of the throne room left me…unbalanced. I didn’t have a better word for it. It felt like he’d anchored something inside me. And when they took him away, that anchor had been yanked loose. Leaving me adrift all over again.
Which was inconvenient, to say the least. Feelings were complicated.
To my relief, whatever Mali saw in my face must have been enough to convince her. “Okay. I will request an audience with the king on one condition. This,” she glared, motioned to the papyrus in her hand, “will never be mentioned again.”
“I never meant to expose the truth. Your secret’s safe. I just…needed to get your attention.” And stars, did I get it.
She nodded and turned to leave, but hesitated at the door. “You’d better hope you’re right about this. If you’re not…well, let’s just say it won’t end well for you.”
That was painfully obvious.
The door clicked shut behind her. Breath in. Breath out. I'd just accused a queen of murder. Then, I offered to decode an ancient puzzle—betting my life on my ability to do celestial mathematics.
Now I just had to hope I was as clever as I thought I was. If not, Griffon and I would share that pyre after all. At least we'd go out together. And that was—
A laugh, thin and hysterical, burst out before I could swallow it back. Stars above…my life had gone so sideways.