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

slow work trying to uncover whatever other evidence there is.” Kirrana smiles, then yawns. “Starting with taxes,” she adds when she can speak again.

“I thought taxes wouldn’t show us anything.”

“They might not. But now that I have an idea of who to focus on, there might be some interesting details to consider. We should also go over all the records of their shipments. But not tonight.”

“Definitely not tonight,” I agree. It’s getting harder and harder to keep my eyes open. “You’ll be safe? No one can know what you’re doing.”

“Safe and careful,” she assures me. “Let’s put these away and both of us get to bed.”

I can’t argue with that, and a few minutes later I am on my way back to the royal wing.

My legs are tired, my turned foot aching, by the time I reach the top of the back stairway and find Captain Matsin leaning against the table, waiting. The remaining guards are arrayed about him in their usual activities—some sitting at the table, one at a bench polishing his sword. It’s Matsin’s face, hard and cold, that brings me up short.

“Kelari.”

“Captain,” I say, stepping through the threshold.

“I’ll walk you,” he says, and falls into step with me, his hands clasped behind his back. It’s a conscious pose, one that says: I am not reaching for you, do you see? But I am certainly coming with you.

Out in the hallway, he says quietly, “I was ten minutes away from alerting the princess to your absence.”

“What?”

“You disappeared, kelari. Again.”

My jaw tightens. How much does he know about the Black Scholar? The princess must have told him something. I’m not sure how else he would have known. Still: “I am not missing now, Captain.”

“You left before dinner without a word to anyone, and don’t return until past midnight. How are we to know you’re safe?”

“It’s not your concern.”

He comes to a stop before the door to the attendants’ suite, and for a half breath I think he’s going to reach for it, hold it closed. But he just looks at it, then raises his gaze to me. “If you are going somewhere at night, please make sure at least another attendant knows. If you need to leave the palace, take someone with you.”

It’s the sort of advice my mother would give me, which is just infuriating. Because it’s good advice. Further, I really don’t want to worry the princess. Refusing to be sensible will probably result in Matsin reporting my comments to the princess. I sigh. “I’ll be sure to inform someone in future.”

He dips me a bow and steps back. “Thank you.”

I nod, and head through the doorway. I really only want to go to sleep. But as I reach the common room, a figure straightens up on the couches. It’s a boy, a page. The same one who explained what a friend of a friend was to me a few nights ago.

“Kelari,” he says, and shoves himself to his feet. He holds out an envelope. “I’m to carry back your answer.”

“I’m sorry for your wait,” I say as I open the envelope. The boy grimaces but doesn’t respond. For all I know, he could have been waiting hours. I scan the note within quickly. It says nothing more than to meet an hour before dawn at a particular building out past the women’s residence. It is signed “Bren.”

I stare at the signature long enough that the boy says, “Well?”

I look up blankly. I don’t want to see Bren again. Perhaps that’s just the coward in me, because I know I need to apologize and I don’t know how. But he wouldn’t arrange to meet me without good reason; avoiding him isn’t an option. I take a shaky breath. “My answer is yes.”

The boy bows and departs, leaving me alone with Bren’s note and a tangle of shame and anxiety I want nothing more than to forget.

Chapter

38

I surface to the stillest part of the night, glad that I’d drunk two extra glasses of water to make sure I’d wake. Any later, and I might miss Bren altogether.

I collect my skirt from the chair by my bed, pulling it up over my sleep pants. My nightshirt is long enough to pass as a tunic; I have no wish to attempt to get it up over my head one-handed just now. Instead, I drape a nice shawl over it, strap on my bone knife in its sheath—because that only seems wise—and head out.

The guard room quads eye me with interest but allow me to pass without question. Captain Matsin appears to be off duty, for which I give a silent moment of thanks. I have, as promised, left a short note for Mina on my desk. Should something go wrong, she’ll spot it easily. Hopefully, though, I’ll get back in plenty of time to remove it before she wakes.

Out past the women’s residence I pause, shrugging deeper into my shawl. It’s dark here, and my instincts say not to wander farther into the shadows. I probably shouldn’t be out here at all, a woman going to meet a man alone in the dark of the night. It reeks of impropriety. But that’s not really how things stand. As long as no one takes note, and I don’t run into trouble, it should be fine. So I stay near the main path and scan the darkness for Bren.

“Rae.”

I pivot, peering into the dark. There’s a man-shaped shadow leaning against the far building. He shifts forward and a fall of moonlight brings into sharp relief the contours of his face, the inky blackness of his hair.

“Bren,” I whisper.

He turns, a liquid darkness in the gray of the night, and moves silently down the side path. I follow after him, settling my shawl over my shoulders more firmly as I go, as if the chill I feel has anything to do with the cool spring night. I am seeing more of Bren in his element now, somehow having infiltrated