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

helpfulness of his answer. What I said? What? That he was Artemian’s superior?

He grins. “Certainly. For instance, I can tell you have no interest in taking our advice to leave the snatchers to other people.”

“None whatsoever.” Though what exactly I can do to learn more I have no idea. Perhaps the princess will have another lead for me.

“In which case,” Bren goes on, “you might want to consider a couple of things.”

I latch onto this as if it were a rope. “Such as?”

“When a snatched child is recovered, necessity dictates that they’re taken to a temple.”

“For the Blessing,” I agree. “But that removes all their memories.”

“To find out anything real, then, you’d need to find a child before they are blessed.”

“I’ve considered that,” I say. I sent a letter home last night, to see if my parents would know how to track down the boy from our town who escaped the snatchers and whose family moved with him far into the plains. Given time, I might be able to find them. But perhaps Bren has a better option. “Is that something you can help us with?”

He pauses where an alley intersects with the road, turning to study me for a long moment. “Where do you think the snatchers take their slaves?”

My brow creases. “Away? I don’t really know. I always assumed it was someplace where slavery is allowed.”

Bren makes a noncommittal sound.

“Where are they sent?” I ask uncertainly.

“Come back in a few days and I’ll show you one such ‘away.’”

“Here?” I demand, my voice soft with shock. “You mean—”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

He meets my gaze, and there is nothing of the cocky, arrogant young man in him now. He is still and serious, his eyes just dark enough to frighten me. They are eyes that have seen a great deal more than I can imagine.

“How will I know to meet you?” I ask. “I assume you’ve decided against involving Sage, or you wouldn’t have waited until she and I parted ways.”

“True,” he agrees, that smile touching his lips again. “She’s a little too quick to accept the need for murder. That’s a road she’ll regret walking, and it’s not a path I tread lightly myself. So it had to be you. Is there anywhere you’ll be going in the city on a regular basis?”

“The princess’s house of healing. I’m to check in on it every afternoon, though not tomorrow.”

“Because of the wedding ceremony,” he says knowingly. “Tomorrow’s too soon, anyhow. I’ll find you there when I’m ready.” He tilts his head. “The other thing you might want to consider?”

“Yes?”

He catches my hand and lifts it, as if he were going to bow over it again—only he doesn’t. Instead, he gives my hand a slight shake and my sleeve falls back to reveal the ring of bruises there. His fingers tighten around mine as I try to pull away, a firm pressure, not hurtful but very much there.

“You ought to learn how to fight.”

The words are quiet, surprisingly gentle. He drops my hand and, with a dip of his chin, departs. I stare after him, cradling my bruised wrist against my body even though it doesn’t hurt. That was what he was asking about, at the beginning. Only he started by questioning my limp instead of my bruises. Well, I’m glad. I wouldn’t have wanted to tell him the truth, or to have to lie.

It isn’t until I reach the palace that I realize there was a third thing I should have considered: a thief is still, at heart, a thief. My coin purse is missing, and with it, a good quarter of the money I had left to me.

I doubt learning to fight will help defend against that.

Chapter

18

“It’s outrageous,” Mina says with quiet fury as she shimmies out of the tunic she wore this afternoon and into a far more heavily embroidered one for dinner. “The foreign queen brought along the impostor’s father. The princess had to stand there and greet the man whose daughter betrayed her and stole her position.”

I stand in the doorway, all thoughts of thieves and snatchers driven from my mind. “What?”

“You should have seen Zayyid Kestrin’s face! Truly, if he could have put a sword through the man, I think he would have. But Alyrra didn’t show a thing. Just smiled and nodded as if all were well, and then took Kestrin’s arm and patted it to bring him back to himself.”

“Did it work?”

“What?”

“Patting his arm?”

Mina pauses in pulling up her skirt. “Actually, yes. He went all still, and then he gave that Verin Daerilin a smile that”—she shudders—“I would never want aimed at me, and bid everyone welcome as well.”

“Why did the impostor’s father come?” I ask, moving to sit down on my bed and work off my boots. “That seems impolitic at best.”

“At best,” Mina agrees, and it occurs to me I have never seen her this animated before, this angry, even if her actions are still small and controlled. It’s there in her voice, in the emphasis she places on words when her voice is usually so neutral. “Apparently it is a long enough journey that they had already departed their hall when the king’s messenger reached them on the road. He claims he stayed with the party in order to make amends.”

“Hmm.”

Mina hurries over to her dressing table. “Can you check in on Alyrra? She wanted company. Zaria is with her right now.”

“Of course,” I say, looking down at my feet, hidden behind the side of the bed from Mina. Yet again, blood and the watery discharge from burst blisters stain the bandages. “Is it acceptable to go dressed as I am?”

“Your hair is fine,” Mina says generously. “I would just pull on a quick change of clothes and go.”

I nod and slide my feet into a pair of slippers before she sees them. I can pull a skirt off or on easily enough regardless. I discard my riding clothes in favor of a regular