“Oh,” she said. She grinned, baring her teeth. “I know one of those.”
At his stupefied look, she said, “Do you think I’ve been hiding in this room all the time? When I’m not with you I have to find something to do.” She shrugged. “We agreed I’m not a prisoner anymore, and no one here is watching me as closely as they did in the empress’s palace. I’ve seen where the warriors go when they want to trade—or smoke where their superiors can’t see them.”
“Show me,” he said. “Please.”
She led him to a narrow corridor that wound out to a hall just beyond kitchens used by the servants. Gesturing at him to be quiet, she showed him a door.
Beyond the door, the mountains were swathed in white. Rao took a step outside. Snow was falling steadily.
“It doesn’t look safe to go out there,” Sima said nervously.
“I have to,” said Rao. “You should stay here, but I must go.”
Fire and snow were clouding his vision, and through them he saw a figure—Aditya perhaps, standing in flames. Aditya, holding out a hand…
He heard Sima yell, but it was too late. He was already striding confidently out into the cold, into a heaving wind colored white that pressed against him like cold water without the wetness of rain.
A hand caught his tunic. Sima was stumbling after him.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she heaved. “I won’t follow your vision, and I don’t think you should either, you absolute idiot.”
“I told you not to come.”
“But you knew I would, didn’t you?”
Her teeth were chattering. He turned to look behind them—but the path was gone, swallowed by white. Internally he cursed.
“I’ve never seen snow before,” she said. “I… I thought it would be different.” A pause. “It’s like home.”
“In what way is this anything like Ahiranya?” he asked.
“Oh, beautiful but liable to kill you,” she said. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“I guess we have no choice,” she said. “No way back, is there? Let’s follow your vision and see where it takes us.”
They walked, and walked. A storm rolled in over them, bringing howling winds and more snow.
“It’s so fucking cold,” she said. “Did your vision bring you out here to make us so cold we’d die?”
“The nameless has done worse to me,” he said in a low voice.
“We’re turning back, Prince Rao.”
“I don’t know where back is. You know that.”
“Ah,” she said. “Well, shit. Neither do I.”
They found no shelter, but there was an outcropping of rocks tall enough to hold the wind at bay. They huddled together, wedged close for warmth.
It was growing darker.
“Rao,” she said, into the howling wind and his silence. “The prince. Did you… Who was he to you?”
“My friend,” he said.
“You grieve him very deeply.”
“Everyone grieves friends deeply,” he murmured. His toes were beginning to grow numb.
