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

It’s out of my hands now. I’m grateful—I never again want to set foot on another ship with a room full of slaves, or find myself unable to run fast enough again, or spill blood upon my hands.

Except that Kirrana is still missing. I press my lips together. But the other galleys will be searched now, and surely, surely she will be on one of them.

As the meeting is adjourned, I push myself to my feet. I feel unsteady and strangely heavy; it’s the shock wearing off, I expect. Alyrra gestures to me, and in a quiet voice asks if I am well. I nod, pause, try to nod again and realize I can’t.

“You should rest,” she says, watching me, a hint of sorrow in her eyes. “You’ve been through a great deal today, and it might not all seem real yet. I’ll send for Mage Berrila to check on you. Please don’t worry about attending me the next few days. And if you wish to stay with your cousins—or go home—I will of course understand.”

“Thank you, zayyida,” I say, and push myself forward. I’m not leaving yet, not before Kirrana is found, but I don’t have the energy to discuss that now.

In the hallway, Melkior and Garrin converse in lowered voices. As I pass them on my way to the attendants’ suite, Garrin turns toward me. “A few words with you, kelari?”

Melkior nods to us both and strides away.

“Verin?” I ask, unsure what more Garrin could want.

“Like you, I hope your friend might still be recovered. Do you have any ideas, any possible leads?”

I take a shaky breath, gather my thoughts. “I believe she might be on one of the other galleys, which you already intend to search. Beyond that, I know little.”

He nods. “The research that you did, were the details lost entirely?”

“It can be done again,” I assure him. “Kirrana was excellent, but, given both motivation and time, I suspect another clerk could find what she did. Especially now that we know what we are looking for. If I work directly with a clerk, I think we could re-create it relatively easily.”

He smiles. “You are a wonder, kelari. I am sorry you must leave us.”

I don’t have to, and I don’t intend to quite yet, but I have no interest in discussing it either. Instead, I dip my head in acknowledgment and make my excuses, retreating to my room.

Chapter

53

Sitting at my dressing table, I let my hair down and brush it slowly, the action strangely soothing. Once it’s smooth again, I plait it into a pair of braids. Country style, and wonderfully comforting at that.

And then my hands are still, and I can’t escape the memories of this afternoon. I open my dressing table drawers, as if that might distract, as if something as stupid and mundane as brushes and jewelry could drive away the thought of screams and bloodshed on the boat, the sound of the sailor dying. The sight of my knife cutting him. My hands start shaking and my stomach heaves. It was self-defense. It was to save the boy, I remind myself, but I cannot breathe through the horror of it. I push myself to my feet, gulping great breaths of air, but it’s not enough.

Stop thinking. Just stop.

Eventually, my panic subsides, my shaking with it. I stand a few moments, and then I start for the door. If I cannot rest, at least I can check on the children.

As I step into the main hallway, Alyrra lets herself out of her suite. She looks toward me in surprise. “Rae?”

I nod. “Do you require attendance?” I ask, almost hopefully. At least it will take my mind away from what I saw on the boat.

“No. I am only going to the palace temple. Unless you would like to come with me?”

I shrug and then find myself moving to accompany her. I rarely went to our temple in Sheltershorn, but perhaps it will do me some good. I can go to check on the children from there; they won’t remember me at this point, and will hardly be waiting for me. And I don’t doubt they’re all right now. A few minutes longer won’t signify.

Alyrra says nothing as we pass down the halls, and in a short time we enter the temple with its plush carpets and great arches. There are shelves against the wall containing holy books and scholarly writings, but other than that, and the richness of the room itself, it is very much like the temple at home. We leave our shoes by the door and find different spots to sit quietly on the carpets. Alyrra rises after a time and prays, bowing and prostrating herself, but I only sit, letting the peace of the room seep into me. I repeat soft words of praise, letting the rhythm soothe my nerves, remind me that there is something to believe in above and beyond the violence of this world.

Eventually, Alyrra finishes and moves toward the door. I follow her out, grateful that she does not break the silence until we part ways in the royal wing. It is only as I let myself into the attendants’ suite that I realize I’ve forgotten to seek out the children.

I hesitate, turning back to the door, and a voice calls out from the common room. “Kelari?”

I look back to find a page hastening toward me. “The king requests your presence.”

“The king? Now?” I ask before I can help myself. Of course now. When else?

“Yes, kelari. At once.”

I touch my hand to one of my braids, but there isn’t time to put up my hair, not with the page waiting. Never mind. They are only country braids after all. But what does the king want from me? Is it something to do with the slave ship? Or something else entirely?

“Do you know what this relates to?” I ask.

“No, kelari,” he says, and gestures me down the hall.