Page 166 of A Tribute of Fire

I started to feel frantic and reached for the closest gold pile, intending to dig through it.

Io grabbed my arm and jerked it away. “No! Lia, we have to go. We’re out of time.”

Suri was with her, putting her hand against my chest. She looked me deep in the eye and shook her head.

No.

I didn’t want it to be true. I had gone through so much, sacrificed everything, to come here and get the eye.

They had to push and pull me out of the vault. Zalira made sure to close the door while Ahyana was busy picking up the glass shards from Io’s potion. Io went to help her, but Suri kept her hand on my right arm. I could tell that she didn’t trust me to behave rationally.

The treasury guards had started to stir and we quietly ran out into the night. Kunguru was still calling and we were able to hurry back the way we’d come, hiding in all the same places, unseen.

All I could think about was that I had failed. I’d had my one chance and it had been for nothing. Quynh had died for nothing.

My throat burned and a sob that I couldn’t let out formed in my chest. We had to stay quiet. When we got back to our room, everybody hurried to shed their cloaks and weapons, hiding them in the wardrobe.

Suri had to force me into my bed and pull a blanket over me. I felt like a child being directed by her mother. I was so devastated, so destroyed, that I couldn’t act. The pain—physical, emotional, mental—overwhelmed me.

It was a good thing Suri had reacted so quickly because thirty seconds later a guard came into our room with a torch, checking on us. I held completely still, and after a few soul-destroying heartbeats, she left.

We had gotten away with it, but I was, once again, empty-handed.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

I tossed and turned the rest of the night. My sisters quickly fell asleep, which I understood. It had been a long, taxing night. I heard when Kunguru came to the windowsill to watch over us. I might have slept, but if I did, I couldn’t remember my dreams.

No Jason. It was ridiculous of me to want to confront a dream version of him. I had to speak to him in person. I needed answers as to who he might have told about the book. He was the only person who knew. It was such a betrayal that, if he’d done it, I wasn’t sure I could ever speak to him again.

I could have been a great deal angrier but wasn’t because a part of me believed he wouldn’t do that to me.

But if not him, then who?

The next morning I got up to clean the temple. I still hurt but the salves and medicines that Daphne poured down my throat every few hours were helping. I could deal with the constant, dull, throbbing pain. The important thing was to stick to my routine. Those guards who had patrolled last night would talk, including the ones who had been drugged, but we had made sure not to leave any proof behind. I couldn’t raise anyone’s suspicions by deviating from what I was supposed to be doing this morning.

But when I got to the courtyard to fill my water vase, I discovered that the fountain was completely dry. I’d never seen that happen before, and I wouldn’t be able to sprinkle water after I swept.

I wasn’t sure what to do.

It seemed like something I should report. I decided Maia was my safest bet. I swept until it was time for my tutorial and headed over to the auditorium. She greeted me.

“The fountain in the courtyard has run dry,” I told her, not bothering to return her greeting.

Her face paled and she stood up. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“Return to your room,” she said.

I did as she asked. Obviously the fountain drying up wasn’t a regular occurrence or she wouldn’t have responded the way that she had. When I got back to my bedroom, I told my sisters what had happened. They were as confused as I was about Maia’s reaction.

No one spoke of the night before. They all seemed afraid to bring it up. My devastation over my failure was obvious. They didn’t ask what I’d been looking for and I didn’t offer to tell them. It was the best way to keep them safe. If they were questioned, they wouldn’t have to lie. They would be able to honestly say they didn’t know what I’d been up to.

It was the only way that I could think of to protect them.

When we got to breakfast, nobody was eating. Instead the room was in an uproar. As I listened to the nearby conversations, it turned out the women were not only worried about the “attacks” the previous night that had resulted in a single arrow and two guards being knocked out, but were now tying those to the fountain drying up.

It was being taken as some kind of omen.

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