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

princess says. “I can’t imagine you would have. Come, Amraeya, I’m sure we shall find them well enough ourselves.”

Jasmine and Zaria tag along behind us, letting forth the occasional barely audible remark or stifled laugh. Remembering the princess’s face when I entered the room, I can’t believe her oblivious to the snubs of her attendants. But for whatever reason, she’s chosen not to respond to them. Now she asks me about my family, the town where I grew up, even the various roles I fill on our ranch.

“I worked a little with horses,” she remarks as we emerge from a side door onto the paved road that circles the palace. The walls loom above us. Alyrra seems to know her way out perfectly well. “It was one of the more difficult choices I have been faced with: to take the position of hostler, or return to being princess.”

I glance at her quizzically, but she seems perfectly serious. “Are you happy with your decision?” I ask, because this I do need to know about her, if I am to be her attendant.

“It depends on the company and the time of day.” She smiles. “Horses are a great deal easier to get along with.”

“Most horses,” I agree.

“Most days,” she returns.

I grin and glance up at the walls, looming ever bigger before us. “Zayyida?”

“Yes?” she asks, slowing slightly.

I gather my courage, aware that Jasmine and Zaria are not all that far behind us, and say, “I am not sure that it is done for royalty to visit the walls.”

She takes my arm and says, her voice strangely cheerful, “I appreciate your concern, kelari. Come along.”

We come to a stop before the gates. The guards have snapped to attention, but their eyes keep running over our little group as if they can’t quite comprehend what we are doing here. “I am looking for the stairway up,” the princess says to them. “I am hoping for a view of the city, and my attendants think you will know better than they how to find it.”

One of the soldiers steps forward, a silver ring through his ear proclaiming his status as captain. “Zayyida wishes a view from the walls?”

“If it can be arranged.”

He bows. “Of course. Is there a particular part of the city you wish to see?”

“The west side.”

“If you will follow me.” He leads us farther down the wall. At intervals we pass doors built into the wall, until, reaching a particular one, the captain opens the door to reveal a tight staircase, each flight built above the previous.

“Oh!” Jasmine cranes her head to look up. “I don’t think I can handle such a height.”

“Then stay below,” Alyrra suggests gently. “I would not want you to overexert yourself. You may both wait here. We shall be down shortly.”

She turns back to me, hesitates. “Will the stairs be all right for you?”

“Just fine,” I assure her.

“I should have asked sooner,” she murmurs, so quietly I’m not sure if she’s speaking to me or herself. Still, I like her very much for it.

Three long flights up, we step onto the ramparts. A cool spring breeze blows, tugging at our hair and rippling our skirts around us. The princess walks forward to lean against the edge of the wall, gazing out over the city. I wait a step behind her.

“What do you see?” she asks.

I move forward, my hands reaching out to touch the white stone. The city spreads out before me: the same road that I drove in from, filled with buildings crammed together, laundry flapping on rooftops, and below, tight alleys disappearing into shadow. Down the great road that runs here, I spot children playing, though they are too small and far away to see clearly. Still, I remember what I saw from my drive up the road well enough. But what does the princess want me to say? Surely it would be rude to raise issues with her in our very first meeting?

“I see a city far greater than the town I live near,” I hedge. She waits. I look out. The people below move quickly, appearing and disappearing from view. I can make out a few run-down shops, though what they sell, I cannot be sure. What else should I say?

She lets out her breath and steps back from the wall.

“There is a great deal of want,” I say, the words a little too fast. She pauses, turning toward me. I go on. It’s not like I’ll have this chance again. “More than I’ve seen in Sheltershorn. The children are not well clothed; the people do not—I can’t say what it is, but they don’t look well. The buildings are old; they haven’t been repaired in a long time.” I point out over the nearest rooftops. “There is one that has fallen in on itself.”

“What do you think of it all?” she asks.

I turn my head to meet her gaze. She watches me keenly, her features schooled into pleasant curiosity but her eyes sparking with eagerness. “It’s a pity,” I say finally. “But perhaps if you see it as well, then something might be done.”

“Shall I fix the building that has fallen in on itself?” she asks.

“Not the building,” I say, trying not to sound like Bean when someone asks something utterly ridiculous. I’m relatively certain the princess is testing me, but it’s hard not to laugh at such a question. “You might look to the children.”

She gazes out over the wall. “I might,” she agrees. “I have heard,” she goes on slowly, “that some children are snatched and never found again.”

Hope spikes through me, and I press my lips together firmly to keep from grinning at her, or blurting something overeager.

She looks at me when I don’t answer.

“Yes,” I say softly.

“What happens to them?”

I take a breath, my thoughts flying to Ani and her grieving family. “In our town, we believe they are sold into slavery.”

“Where?”

I shake my head. “Away somewhere. In other lands.”

“It seems strange that so little should be known.