Spending time with them also gave her information that Amun had not thought to share with her. By listening to their conversations, she learned about the courier mystics who traveled between the provinces of the Empire and the temple, bringing food supplies and messages from other mystics and the Emperor himself to the Maha.
“How do the couriers navigate the desert?” Mehr asked. She broke apart her flatbread into manageable pieces as she spoke, keeping her tone casual. “The desert is so vast,” she said. “I can’t imagine how anyone could find their way through it.”
“They use the stars,” said Rena, no suspicion in her face or her voice. “But there are trade routes too. They use those to visit the villages.”
Mehr was sure Kalini and the others hadn’t brought her to the temple via a trade route. They’d traveled over unmarked desert, and kept their distance from villages. Mehr doubted her ability to navigate by the stars, but she stood a chance of understanding trade routes, and navigating using individual villages as signposts.
She would need to find a way to visit the scholars—and their maps—again without arousing suspicion.
It was her third evening in the company of the women when Mehr finally agreed to visit them in their shared room by the oasis. They had been offering, subtly and not so subtly, since the first time they had met her. Mehr couldn’t refuse any longer without showing outright rudeness.
She had so many reasons why her choice was a sound one. She rehearsed them over and over again in her head as she and Amun practiced in the hall and then returned to his room. If he attempted to argue with her, if he called her foolish, she would be more than able to argue with him. But Amun didn’t argue. As she drew her shawl around her shoulders, as she turned to leave the room, he said only, “Be careful.”
“You’re not going to try to stop me?” she asked.
“Could I?” he asked. He shook his head. “No, Mehr. Do as you will.”
Mehr thought of the fragile trust that had built between them, stretched so thin now by the weight of the storm that was coming for them. She felt a pang. She pushed it away. She was far too prone to sentiment.
She met Hema at the foot of the stairs.
“Finally!” Hema called out at the sight of her. She turned on her heel, stopping once to make sure Mehr was following. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”
“I was just delayed,” said Mehr.
There was a mystic standing guard at the entrance to the oasis that Hema led her to. When he saw Mehr his mouth thinned. But Hema was already tutting and shaking her head, a smile fixed on her pretty mouth.
“Come now, brother,” she said. “Is this how you treat family?”
“I haven’t said anything,” he protested.
“I can see it in your face,” Hema said. Although her words were challenging, her voice was playful. “You were going to stop us.”
“Not you. Just her.” He jerked his chin in Mehr’s direction.
“Oh, don’t be so cruel.” Hema put her hand on her hip. “The girl needs company.”
The man shook his head, his jaw set to an angle. Mehr saw the fingers on Hema’s hips curl. When she spoke again, her playful voice had an unexpected edge to it.
“You don’t trust me, brother?”
The man said nothing.
“If you don’t consider me trustworthy,” Hema continued, “perhaps you should go to Kalini and see what she says.”
Mehr looked between them, taking in the tilt of Hema’s head, the tight set of the man’s shoulders. It was soon clear that Hema was victor. The male mystic finally stepped out of the way. Hema gave Mehr a wink, then turned to lead her through the doorway into the outdoors.
“Kalini,” Mehr began haltingly.
“She’s my sister,” said Hema, not waiting for Mehr to finish. “By the Emperor’s grace, the Maha saved us both when we were children. Our parents died when we were small. We would have starved without his kindness.” They walked farther out into the moonlit night. “I know Kalini is … difficult. But she loves the Maha, and she loves me.”
Mehr thoughtdifficultwas somewhat of an understatement, but she nodded, and said nothing. Sometimes silence was wise.
They walked along the edge of the oasis under the moon’s glow. The ground was soft and even beneath her feet. The water smelled almost unbearably pure, sweet without being cloying. Mehr felt some of her frustration begin to ease. She’d missed the outdoors.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hema was gazing out at the water. “I was offered a room deeper in the temple, once. Near the kitchens where it would be warm at night. But I said no. I couldn’t give this up.”
Mehr followed her gaze. The moon was reflected back on the water, a circle of white against pure undisturbed black.
