The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani (story reading .TXT) 📕

to it. “I hear someone coming. We’ll have this snake off you in no time, and all will be well. I would do it myself, but”—he shrugs—“I have certain appearances to keep up, and you said yourself you are in no danger.”

“Thanks a lot,” I grumble, surprising a huff of laughter from him.

A voice calls through the door, and a moment later a man in mage’s robes steps through—Hedhrawy, no doubt. He looks vaguely familiar. I must have seen him once or twice during the wedding festivities. He is tall and broad shouldered, with a slight belly nudging at the front of his robes.

He nods to me and takes a moment to confer with the prince, bending down to inspect the snake as they speak. Then he tells me, “I am going to persuade the snake to fall asleep. Once it is more lethargic, you can step away and we will remove it to a basket.”

“Do you have a stick?” I ask. “Preferably with a forked end?”

He tilts his head. “You have experience with snakes?”

“Enough that I’d like to pin its head down once it’s sleepy, just in case.” Even sleepy snakes can wake up. And they’re not always in a good mood when they do.

“We’ll call for something of the sort,” Kestrin says. “If you will start, Master Hedhrawy, I’ll see to that.”

It doesn’t take long. Hedhrawy doesn’t even reach for the large ruby amulet hanging from a chain about his neck, so small is the magic needed to nudge the flow of blood and breath through the snake toward sleep. Its coils relax about my ankles. Kestrin reappears with another guard and what appears to be roasting fork from the kitchens. The guard carries a colorfully woven covered basket, no doubt to house the snake.

“Don’t hurt it,” I say fretfully. “It didn’t ask to be put here.”

The mage and the guard stare at me, but Kestrin doesn’t seem to mind my rudeness. “We’ll take care, kelari. Here.” He approaches another step before the guard comes to his senses, stops the prince, and gently presses the fork against the base of the snake’s neck himself.

I slip one foot free, take a half step back, and slip the other one free. The snake remains still, proving my roasting fork precautions unnecessary. The last I see of it is the mass of coils resting loosely on the floor as the prince ushers me from the room.

Chapter

43

I sleep the sleep of the dead, for which I am grateful: no echoing memories of the brickmaker’s boys, or the Black Scholar’s cold voice and colder blades, or the foreign prince’s violence, or the rsss-rsss of a saw-scaled viper. I wake to a faint but persistent knock on the door.

“Go away,” Mina groans from her bed.

I push myself out of bed and hobble to the door, my turned foot aching each time it comes down on the cold tiles. I have just enough presence of mind to grab a shawl and pull it around my shoulders before cracking open the door.

A page waits on the other side—a girl, which is unusual but not unheard of. It also explains why she was allowed in at such an hour, while a male page would have been told to wait at the hall door, or come back when we were awake.

“A letter for you, kelari,” she says. “I was told it was urgent.”

“Thank you.”

She dips a curtsy and departs. I go to sit at my desk and unshutter a single pane from the luminae lamp. Mina rolls over and hides her head under the blankets.

I frown, looking at the envelope. I don’t recognize the name at all. I open the envelope as quietly as possible, scan the contents, and then find I do not know what I have read. I squeeze my eyes shut a moment, my heart thudding, and start over.

Kelari Amraeya,

I am writing to you with regard to our daughter, Kirrana. Upon your advice, my husband decided to accompany her back to the palace yesterday evening. On their way, they were set upon by a group of assailants. My daughter is gone. My husband was left unconscious, and he has only just now awakened and been brought home, and told me his story.

Please, if you have any idea who it was that posed our daughter the danger you feared, tell me. We are searching for her, but we have no idea who has taken her, where she could be. If you have any information at all, we would be forever in your debt.

Siyela

Gone. My stomach turns to stone. Kirrana is gone. I turn the letter over in my hand, fold it and refold it. Try to think.

I need to speak to Alyrra. She’ll be able to order an investigation, get the right people involved looking for Kirrana. Who is gone. Like Seri. Only worse—only violently, her father beaten unconscious. Targeted.

I lurch from my seat. Out in the main hallway, I see quads posted before both Alyrra’s door and Kestrin’s. I clutch the letter tighter in my hand. The princess is asleep, of course she is, with Kestrin, and I don’t have the right to go barging in there. But Kirrana is in danger. I have to do something.

“Kelari?” Captain Matsin detaches himself from the quad by Alyrra’s door and moves toward me. “The royal family is having a private conversation right now and cannot be disturbed.”

I understand. I do. An assassination attempt, or something close to it, was made on her life last night. Perhaps they’ve learned who placed the snake in her bed and they’re deciding what to do. But Kirrana’s life is at risk now. I look up at Matsin. If I can’t get in to see Alyrra, then he is my next best choice. He’s loyal to the prince and princess, and honorable in his way. Even if I can’t trust that he won’t carry out an order against me, I can trust him up to that point. It