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.
He was standing in the doorway, his hair mussed and his eyes stormy. Normally he had an air of nonchalance that seemed unflappable, as if nothing really disturbed him. But now, he was disturbed.
“You’re awake, then.” He walked farther into the room. The clothes I had just put on suddenly felt as if they encased me in a steel cage that trapped me before him.
“Yes, I woke up a few moments ago.”
