Page 32 of Daughter of the Dark Sun
Apattar perked up at the mention of the man’s twin. Coincidence could explain the interesting fact with ease, yet she toyed with the possibility that if the rest of her life was a dark reflection of Ninann, why not this, too? Her irritation cooled at the thought, replaced with curiosity instead.
“I will call for the litter and meet you down at the gate, my lady.” Saiya dipped her head before hurrying away.
Each step to thegates of House Isht’iri pulled Apattar’s thoughts to the disjointed dream with the man she fled from in the night a year and longer ago. The one Laisha needed to end the curse. Another like her, touched by the Shadow-weave.
At first, Apattar thought little of the man, dismissing Laisha’s notion of him beingliraes.But the thought became intriguing as the day of her ascension to womanhood came. She wondered how his voice sounded; if it was smooth and deep like a lowing cow or sharp and thin, a knife cutting through the air. The bells chimed in her hair with each bounce of her eager steps. Her intrigue fought with her repulsion of what he represented. How could he ever care about her? Want to care about her?
The endless descent through the garden path abruptly flattened; colorful blossoms gave way to a vast courtyard paved with smooth black slabs of stone. The two young women walked into a flurry of activity. Dozens of workers moved in acoordinated dance as they unloaded wagons with baskets of fruit while others took crates and disappeared into the storehouse.
Apattar took Myris’s hand and led them through the bustling courtyard to the other side, where Saiya waited with a litter covered in plain cotton fabrics. Not the usual gilded one Apattar used these last few months with Ninann.
“And I am taking this because?” she asked, her brows furrowing with each word.
“Apologies, my lady,” Saiya said, dipping her head as she spoke. “Your mother insists you use this to travel to the Reapers Quarter. She says it will not draw as much attention, although I said anyone would look at you and know regardless which House you belong to.”
Apattar flared her nostrils. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” she huffed. “I see the reason. I’ll go alone, however. Who knows where my sister will have us go.”
“Yes, my lady.” Saiya dipped her head as she spoke “We’ll help Lady Nessaeren.”
“No, Saiya, take the day to yourselves. I think the waveweaver Tylei is back today in the Market square, I know you love watching her shows. If anyone asks, I sent you to look for jewelry.” A smile cracked her placid face before disappearing again.
“I admit I would prefer not helping your mother. You’ll hear no argument from me,” Saiya replied with a sly smile in return. A giggle of excitement escaped from Myris.
Apattar stepped into the litter and sat, fussing over the stiff pillows in an attempt to support her back. It was far less luxurious than the ones her family used. Soft down cushions and thin cottons for warmth on the cool nights lined those litters. With a sigh, she leaned back against the less-than-comfortable pillows and nodded for Saiya to fetch the carriers. The handmaiden snapped her fingers, beckoning to two burlymen before scurrying off with Myris. Though the day young, sweat already clung to the workers’ cream-colored linen shirts, outlining the toned muscles underneath. The darker of the two, skin glistening like black coals, bent his head before speaking.
“Lady Apattar, yous ready then?” His words slurred together as if he spoke through thick syrup.
“Yes, thank you, Jaiym. Do you know where we are going, to the Reapers Quarter?”
The worker tilted his head as if trying to recall a thought. After a pause, he began speaking again. “Aye, now I ‘member. One of your sister’s men showed us. Is an odd place for yous.”
“The fall left some of your senses, Jaiym,” she chuckled in response. “I agree, but she is a bit odd herself of late. Well, lead on.”
Apattar tugged the edges of her dress inside the litter and pulled the plain curtain closed. It lifted off the ground with ease and the two men lumbered off. The bounce and sway of their steps settled into a comforting rhythm. Apattar closed her eyes and found her breath, focusing on the waves of heat rolling over her skin. Damp sweat collected at the nape of her neck, a feeling she now found comforting after the long year away in the biting cold winds of the West. For as often as she envisioned Av Madhira an ornate prison, she now found herself loath to leave again. The pale woman’s words echoed in her mind.
You will know to come find me when it is time.
She half-hoped the time would never come.
The quiet serenity of the Towers District gave way to the sound of chanting and soft stringed instruments, until at last the frantic bustle of the Market square overtook everything. Apattar only half-listened to the activity outside, consumed by sudden anxieties over the day. She felt the soft touch of hands at her throat, hungering for her life with each beat of her heart.
Apattar wanted to believe Laisha’s words, that this man was the key to finding her freedom. But the void swallowed all hope. Her father’s cruel words thundered in her ears with each surge of hot blood.
Tainted, broken, an unlovable mistake.
A scream threatened to escape, clawing at lips squeezed together in anger.
You are my most beloved child. Do not worry. Be calm.
The cool whispering voice engulfed the woman rife with self-doubt and fear. A pressure built in her heart, the ever-hungry and gnawing void begging for release. With her next breath it faded, the tumultuous wave of anxiety quelled by the gentle whisper. The voice that guided her west a year ago and sent her into the pale arms of Laisha. It became harder and harder to deny the stranger’s words. The girl who denied the gods—could she blessed? Able to heal the world with the help of others like her? It couldn’t be true.
seventeen
The Black Jewel
The sounds of theMarket faded out as Therat and Adon rounded a small copse of trees behind the fountain square. The shade grew deeper under the line of figs and palms, a blessing on the first day of summer. The Skyweavers would have a long two months ahead keeping the oasis cool from the relentless fiery sun.
Picking up the pace, Adon led the twins to a long building nestled against the tree line. A handful of workers busied themselves with repainting an old mural on the short side facing them. One leapt up and said something to Adon as they approached, clasping the man’s forearm in an embrace.
