Wind snaps at my legs and tears at my cloak. One of the precious stones on display tumbles from its perch and hits the floor with a sharp ping. Amad glances toward the jewel, expression stricken.
“Then why has someone shown up at your place of business asking for the princess?” A band of air whips out, snagging Notus’ quarry around the neck and lifting him high. Amad clutches the noose, face purpling from lack of air. He chokes, wheezes out, “I promise you, I—”
“Sorry to bother you,” the visitor at the door calls. “I’ve a message for Princess Sarai from Prince Amir. Someone claimed they spotted her entering this shop?”
My mouth parts in surprise. Amir? Quickly, I stride for the door. As I reach for the handle, however, Notus stays my hand.
“Let me,” he says quietly.
Nodding, I step aside while he opens the door. A thump behind us indicates Amad has dropped onto the ground.
It’s Emin. The poor lad is out of breath, drenched in sweat. “Your Highness.” He bows, hands braced on his knees, and holds out the crinkled message. “Prince Amir’s courier came to the stables shortly after you departed, looking for you. I did not wish to betray your trust by telling him of your whereabouts, but he said the letter was most urgent. So I agreed to deliver it myself.”
For a handsome fee, no doubt. I shake my head in incredulity. “How did you find me?”
“You and Notus mentioned Mirash,” he puffs. “I rode here as fast as I could, asked people in the streets if they’d seen a woman traveling with an armed man. That led me here.”
And with little time to spare. “Thank you, Emin.”
The moment the parchment brushes my fingertips, I break the wax seal and begin to read.
Sarai,
I’m not sure if this will reach you in time. It’s Father. He is fast fading. Please come. I fear it is already too late.
—Amir
20
AHARD BREATH PUNCHES OUT OFme. I do not recall moving, but suddenly I’m stumbling across the threshold, into brightness and a hot, coarse wind. The din of my surroundings can’t touch me, for I am distant, I am elsewhere, I am deep, deep in my mind. My heart trills fearfully.Too late.
My last image of Father swirls before me like a smoke plume. The broken pieces of his heart, which I shattered with my cruel words. How small he looked, how shrunken beneath the blankets of his bed. With my back against a wall, I lashed out. I wanted to wound him as he had wounded me. And now—
The dusty road crunches beneath my slippers, and I halt, swaying. Notus catches my arm with a murmured, “Steady.”
Tearing free of the South Wind’s grip, I rush blindly in the direction I believe leads to the city entrance. My legs propel me down the road, into the thick of the market. The crowds have multiplied since this morning. I weave around trundling carts and bypass beggars in rags. Notus and I traveled this way before, yet for whatever reason, nothing looks familiar.
“Sarai.” The South Wind’s shadow stretches over me as he catches up. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
When the swarm of marketgoers blocks the road ahead, I dart down a side street to circumvent the blockage, Amir’s crumpled messagewilting in my sweaty palm. As long as I continue moving, I will not be burdened by the fear ofwhat if.
“Sarai.” Notus grabs my arm.
“Don’t touch me!” I snarl.
The South Wind retreats a step, palms lifted, confusion passing over his expression.
Only now do I recognize my posture: feet planted, braced as though to come to blows. We’ve stopped in the middle of the road, the crowd granting us a wide berth. Notus is not my enemy. We have moved past that, I think.
“I’m sorry, I—” My throat thickens, and I swallow down the shame that rises. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”Get it together.But I have nothing to ground me, no anchor but my own spiraling thoughts.
“I want to help you,” he murmurs, “but I can’t if you don’t let me in.” Then he says, quietly and with feeling, “Let me in, Sarai.”
A farmer dragging two goats behind him jostles my back. I stumble forward, nearer to Notus, the rock around which this current parts. Here is what I know. The South Wind is my betrothed in name only, but what we have mended and built anew is perhaps the truest thing in my life. He is here, I think. That in itself is enough.
Wordlessly, I pass over the message. My hand shakes.
He reads swiftly. A heartbeat later, Notus lowers the note.
