In all the months I’d been looking, I’d never come any closer to unlocking the vault door, and I certainly wouldn’t be able to now, hours before the Citadel were planning to excavate.
I closed my eyes, my decision easing the heaviness from my shoulders and solidifying my resolve. “I’ll do it with him.”
She froze at my words as she struggled to stand, and blinked at me in the scant light. “You will? But you hate me doing this. You hate me doing anything that goes against the Citadel.”
I frowned, but she couldn’t see my face in the darkness of the doorway. To everyone else, I was a model scholar, working in the Citadel archives and helping them unearth the magical objects that gave Astola its life magic.
Even Safiyya didn’t know the extent of my betrayal.
She didn’t know about my hunts for fae relics at night. Or the times when I’d even managed to steal them out from underneath the nose of the Citadel.
Because every single fae object removed from our land was a death sentence for us. The life magic imbued in every crown, necklace, goblet, ring, and all the other relics hidden in the earth kept our crops alive and our rivers flowing. And every time the Citadel dug one up and shipped it off to the Empress, more people died.
But everything depended on the lie that I embodied by day—I was a scholar for the Citadel, helping them find the ancient magical relics. If it ever got out that I betrayed them by stealing the fae objects instead, both Safiyya and Nani would suffer the consequences of such duplicity.
They might still.
“Yes, I do,” I said finally. “I’m worried about you whenever you go out, of course. And I’d rather you didn’t try to bury the dead when the Citadel has specifically declared that illegal. But you can’t go, not like this. So that leaves me.”
Safiyya chewed on the side of her lip, her eyes glassy. She didn’t want to give in, I could tell by the look on her face.
I smiled, despite myself. She’d be defying the Citadel on her deathbed, which was, fortunately, not today.
“Safiyya,” I said in a cajoling way, “I promise I won’t make a mess of it. But Bair needs someone who isn’t going to keel over the moment they try to lift a body. I’ll go. I’ll wear your cloak so no one will even know it’s me.”
That seemed to settle it for her, and she collapsed back into the pillows on her bed. “Thanks, Yas,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed, letting sleep claim her once more.
I closed the door and turned back to Bair, resignation on my face. “I’m coming with you tonight instead.”
He lifted his gaze from the last few lentils in the bowl, his jaw falling slack. “The Citadel won’t like that.”
“That’s an understatement,” I snapped. “With hope they’ll never find out. Besides, you can’t do this on your own.” My tone was too harsh in the faint light of the kitchen, and I exhaled, measuring my temper. It wasn’t Bair’s fault that Safiyya was sick. And he didn’t know I’d had other plans for this night; no one did.
And it wasn’t any of our faults that we were now forced to bury bodies illegally under the cover of night instead.
I grabbed Safiyya’s dark cloak from the hook beside the door. This needed to be done, and as much as I didn’t want to thwart the Citadel and give them another reason to reconsider my loyalties, to shine the light of suspicion on me and unveil my other secrets, I would do it.
If I didn’t, the Citadel would burn the bodies, and their spirits would be left wandering.
Like my father’s.
At least with these villagers we could do the proper burial rites and release their spirits into the afterlife.
Safiyya’s cloak was hefty, bought during a winter when the Citadel had made a rare discovery. I had done the research in my position as a scholar, hoping to get to the fae relic first. Rage burned inside me when I’d been unable to steal the delicate gold tikka that had been vital for the rice fields in our area. When the tikka had been discovered by the Citadel and shipped off to the Empress, the lush fields had dried up over the next few months, the fae life magic gone.
I wanted to scream when they congratulated us and gave bonuses to the scholar department. The Empire didn’t seem to realize the damage they did to Astola with every stolen fae artifact.
Or maybe they just didn’t care.
“Hide your hair.” Bair’s voice was rough and determined.
I glanced up at him and a flush stained his cheeks, making him look healthier than he had in years. “It’s distinctive,” he muttered as he waved his hand in my general direction, shifting uncomfortably on his feet and avoiding my eyes.
He was right, my hair was a wild mane next to Safiyya’s sleek tresses.
My fingers brushed my thick curls, trying to tame them under my hood. I grimaced, pushing them under the heavy fabric and having little luck. My hair wouldn’t be controlled, and I ended up braiding the thick mass over my shoulder instead and tucking it into my cloak.
Because I certainly didn’t want to be recognized this night.
