Page 51 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

“I’ll explain on the way.”

Yasen blew out a breath, rubbed a hand down his face, and then pushed himself away from the post where he was leaning. He shouted some orders to a lieutenant to take over.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Thank you,” she said as they headed into Dharati’s streets. While they walked, she explained to him what had happened with Mahi.

“And what does this have to do with anything?” he asked. She hadn’t told him about the sixth anchor yet. She wasn’t ready to reveal it to anyone—even someone she trusted.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “But I need to talk to someone else who saw them. It might be important.”

Yasen shrugged as though he wasn’t sure about that, but he led her towards her goal, anyway.

“This way,” he said as they turned a corner and passed under a stone archway. Zarya wasn’t surprised to find the vanshaj quarter in a state of dilapidation compared to the rest of the city. Here, narrow wooden buildings that looked like they might topple at the slightest breeze sagged against one another, everyone living stacked like crates in a cellar.

She wondered why anyone thought this was acceptable. She wasn’t sure if Amrita intended to do something about this, but surely she didn’t condone it? Signs of poverty were evident everywhere, rail-thin children running about wearing little clothing, their bones as sharp as razors.

“This is…” Zarya said softly, trailing off.

“I know,” Yasen said.

“Why don’t they do something about this?”

“Old prejudices run deep,” he said.

She gave him a sharp look. “Surely, people aren’t that blind.”

They wound through the run-down streets, unable to avoid the haunted eyes of the passers-by.

“The nobility barely considers the vanshaj as human. I don’t think it even occurs to them to do anything about this.”

“Did Amrita never voice her desire to do something about this during your talks?” Zarya asked.

“She did, but she’s different now that she’s queen.”

“You mean she’s just like Vasvi.”

He nodded. “That is my fear.”

Zarya pressed her lips together but said nothing as they continued.

Yasen consulted the note from Mahi.

“Over there,” he said, pointing to a tiny house made of weathered grey boards, built with no fanfare—just a tiny box with bare, uncovered windows.

Zarya knocked on the thin plank door and waited with Yasen a step behind her. She heard a shuffle on the other side before the door popped open.

A young woman wearing the uniform of Daragaab’s army opened it, her gaze narrowing as she looked Zarya over.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Are you Meera?”

Her gaze tapered at the question.

“Why?”

“Your sister told me where to find you.”