“Right,” I said, deflating a little. I kept forgetting the rules of the Otherworld. Not a word could be spoken about Akaran’s secrets until the new moon.
I glared at the moon.
Gupta shook his head apologetically and pointed at the food. “Please, eat.”
As I ate, I watched Gupta from the corner of my eye. He was writing furiously, quill rapping against the wood as he filled the page with line after line of ink.
“What are you doing?”
He looked up, quill half suspended in the air before he tapped the scroll. “Record keeping. Nothing is certain until the ink dries.”
“What’s not certain?”
“Life,” said Gupta matter-of-factly.
The half-eaten platters of food stared back at me glumly. I was, against all experience, strangely without an appetite.
“When you finish, you have the evening to yourself,” said Gupta, scrutinizing the scrolls before him. “I would be happy to show you my collection of record keeping on the distribution of leaves per branch. It’s one of my more noteworthy accomplishments.”
I glanced down the halls. Again, that voice from the charred door rustled against me. The air prickled with invisible heat and magic. Gupta continued talking, but his voice ebbed in and out, splashing against a rhyme I couldn’t catch no matter how hard I strained—
Oh, the treacherous moon, dear queen, please—
“Did I ever tell you about the time I interviewed a mollusk? Fascinating—”
—free me, find me, hidden in the tree, if you—
“—hungry more often than naught, which is—”
My pulse slowed. A sharp pain turned the colors bright and sickening. I couldn’t even feel the rugs beneath my feet. My toes felt like they were sinking into damp, gritty sand. Water lapping at my ankles. A name crouched in my throat. A name I should have been screaming, but couldn’t recall. The voice from the charred door was a plea and all I knew was that I had to leave this room.I had to find the door.
I stood up, knocking my chair over behind me.
Whatever spell of pain had clung to me broke instantly. I looked down and saw the silk rug. Gupta stared, a little confused. I needed to get out. I needed to distract him.
“Why don’t we play a game of riddles?” I said suddenly. “I’ll stand outside and let you think. When you’re ready, call my name. Yes?”
Gupta sat up straighter, his head tilting bird-like to one side. “What riddle?”
“I’ll give you three. You seem like you’d be very good at them.”
Gupta beamed. “I have been known—”
“Excellent,” I said quickly. “I am a nightmare to most, and a dream for the broken; who am I? Next riddle. I am your future, who am I?”
Gupta silently repeated them. “And the last?”
“I hide the stars but am frightened by the sun. I am not the night, who am I?”
“Delightful!” said Gupta, clapping his hands. “You’ll stay outside?”
I smiled. “Of course.”
He gave a distracted nod, and I slipped out of the dining room.
Curiosity sharp as frissons of heat ran up my spine. I tried calling out to the voice, but there was nothing. Alone, I was beginning to think it was nothing more than the palace’s quirks. Both Amar and Gupta had said the palace would test me. Perhaps this was nothing more.
I looked around. The great corridors of Akaran unfurled before me like a stone maze and I took off down one of the paths, fingers trailing along the walls and murals. Moonlight flooded the palace, wiping away its solemnity and filling it with a cold, twinkling beauty.
