He does not push the matter and instead whisks the incense stick against my hand, once and twice, sure and fast, as if to remind himself that I am real. Then with a shake of his head: ‘An Eajiz in the flesh. And she is my sister. The Heavens have truly blessed me.’ His grin seems to grow. He might be happier about my affinity than I.
Then he crosses his arms, smug even. ‘Still believe the monks are senile fools?’
‘I never said that,’ I mumble. ‘Perhaps they know a little bit.’
His eyes widen along with his smile. ‘Stubborn! I think I like you, Younger Sister. The monks here are the only ones you can trust, for they’ve taken a Heavenly Oath to keep your affinity a secret. If they break it, their souls are condemned in this life and the next. And the monks have the ancient texts on the Heavenly Birds memorised. For instance, if you’d lived here, I would have long ago seen the signs that you are an Eajiz for myself.’
‘Which signs? I know sometimes birds followed me. And the tribe’s chiefs had strange dreams about my birth. Some thought I was a curse.’
He nods. ‘You aren’t cursed and those signs aren’t special. Many Eajiz were born with birds flapping about them, trees speaking or the stars reading peace. It’s a glad-tiding from the Divine. After a few years, the signs cease. If you’d been raised here in Azadniabad,’ his voice drops with a softness that sounds regretful, ‘the monks would have knownquickly. Your maternal tribe didn’t know better... they can’t have had an Eajiz for over two centuries. And now they’re gone.’
I flinch but Older Brother does not notice. ‘You are in good hands here. Several Eajiz warriors have trained under the senior monks.’
‘There are other Eajiz here?’ A sprout of hope blossoms in my chest.
He scratches his head. ‘Well, there are only a handful in our entire empire. Unfortunately, most Eajiz reside in the bordering land of Sajamistan, our fiercest enemies. I know the eldest monk in our spring capital is an Eajiz, long retired from battle almost a century ago. But no, there are none presently here in the winter palace.’
‘A century ago,’ I breathe.
He leads me out of the apothecary as I mull over this information. I ask, ‘Did you tell Dunya about my affinity? Is that why she hates me?’
He bends down until we are level. ‘I haven’t. She doesn’t hateyou. She hates what you are. She quickly realised a new daughter of the emperor who is related to a khan is a threat. A child raised in the harshest alpine valleys, who learnt to hunt before she could speak, from a tribe that thwarts the threats at our borderlands... you could be a formidable martial artist under the right guidance. Poison was her way to test your resilience. But how you respond matters more than your past.’
‘How shall we respond, Older Brother?’
‘In kind.’ He smiles with confidence before rolling up the velvet sleeves of his white and amber robe. ‘With poisons, little bird.’
‘More poisons,’ I say reluctantly. We enter the main corridors and I struggle not to step on his robes.
‘I’ve been informed you do not have a name?’
I shrink away. ‘I am waiting for Dada to name me.’
‘I can name you. Steppe-buzzard seems fitting.’ His eyes twinkle.
‘No. I’ve waited years for Dada to do it.’
‘Very well. The emperor wanted to name me Fatih, after himself. But Dunya refused and took me after her dada. Eliyas.’
‘Eliyas.’ I taste it. ‘I like your name.’ He tucks my hand close into his arm and I wonder if this is what it’s like having a real sibling.
He pauses abruptly in the corridor. ‘Come out. Enough hiding.’ From the stone pillars garnished in white-dotted dahlia, a familiar girl squeaks, then peers through the flora. Zhasna.
I startle back but Eliyas holds firmly. ‘Do not run, little bird. I will not let her hurt you again. I ought to lash her for her cruel actions.’
Zhasna draws straight, addressing me. ‘I-I tried to stop Uma. I didn’t mean to poison you.’ The girl’s eyes are wet, and she wrings her hands into the pleats of her milky qaftan.
‘Yes, you did,’ Eliyas snorts before he scruffs at his thin beard. ‘Dunya is like that, using her children instead of dirtying her own hands.’
Suddenly the girl’s tear-stained face, coupled with memories of the previous night and the soreness of my poisoned stomach, brings me up short. My hands form into fists. Zhasna is probably lying. I was naïve to think I would find friends amongst the other young clansmen. They only see me as an outsider – a threat. ‘If Dunya wanted to poison me, she should’ve used a faster one. Maybe the bristles of a yellow-spotted caterpillar.’
Zhasna opens her mouth and closes it. ‘You are strange.’
‘You are the stranger for poisoning your sibling.’
Wordlessly, Zhasna turns away down the corridor. Eliyas glances between us and sighs long. Watching her flee, my heart twinges in what feels almost like remorse.
Eliyas takes me to Uma who awaits us at the monastery between the outer and inner palace gates. The inner palaces are inside a circle-shaped wall, and outside that are the outer grounds with the paymaster, storehouse and scribe offices, eventually leading to hilly paths toward the central capital.
