Mine.The gravelly whisper comes from everywhere inside of me. A possessive throb fires deep in my chest, making me gasp, but I can’t make head or tail of it.
“But the bonds of akasha are ever fluid,” Vena muses softly. “Perhaps...”
There she goes again with her cryptic statements. “Perhaps what?”
“Never mind, child,” she says with a sigh, patting my hand. “The future is yet to be written. Perhaps your destiny will be the one you choose, not what has been written.”
I frown, definitely lost now. “Which destiny? Do you mean Roshan?”
Inscrutable starlit eyes meet mine as her hands fall away. “Forgive me. I am rambling.” She smiles, but her gaze slides past me as though there’s something she doesn’t want me to see.
“Will the prince awaken?” I ask after a beat of silence.
“That depends on you.”
“Onme? But you said it depended on the fates.”
Vena shakes her head with an exasperated laugh. “You are the Starkeeper. The fates bow to your wishes.”
“Oh.” I reach over in a spontaneous motion and pull her into my arms, squeezing hard. “Thanks for never giving up on me.”
“Nasrin was right about you,” Vena says after a while. “She said you had more strength than even she knew.”
“Mama chose to become a guardian?” I ask, eyes going wide.
Vena shakes her head. “Your mother died to safeguard you. The parts that you chose to see were your own memories—the pieces of her that were in you. You saw her because she is important to you. She is a large part of that strength you carry.”
“So, she’s not really here?”
“Not in the form you expect,” Vena says. “She is akasha, in the moon and the stars, in the ever-changing fabric of the sidereal universe. She is your hopes and your dreams, your past and your future. She is you, and me, and the air we breathe. She is life as you know it. She is part of your everlasting truth.”
And we’re back to soothsayer-speak. I roll my eyes with a fond grin. “I will miss our little chats, Vena. So how do I get back to Oryndhr?”
“You are already there, Setareh Framataram.”
***
My room in Coban is the same as I left it—a mess. Then again, it’s not surprising considering half the inn has been burned down, thanks to Javed. If he weren’t already dead, I’d incinerate him for the senseless, selfish devastation he’d left in his wake. But as my father had said, Cobanites didn’t learn to thrive in the desert for nothing. Thankfully, many of them had escaped into the sands and survived the attack. Undaunted by the challenge, the villagers of Coban are already rebuilding.
Though covered in a thick layer of soot, my room had been on the side of the inn that had escaped being torched. I stare at the grime covering every available surface and grimace, picking through my belongings and trying to decide what to take and what to leave behind. It seems like eons ago that Laleh and I had packed my trunk to go to Kaldari for the engagement celebration.
Laleh.
I pull a vivid emerald scarf from beneath my bed and press it to my nose. Underneath the smoke, it smells faintly like her—like ripe grapes and sunshine. I’d visited her parents, and we’d cried together, mourning the brightest light that the world had lost. My eyes sting from the prick of tears. I’d finally let myself grieve, but the pain remains too fresh and too sharp. I suspect it will be a while before I can think of her without sobbing.
Laleh’s spirit was like a burst of flame that brightened everything it touched, and even though it might have lasted for only a short time, I’ll always remember the warmth and the brilliance of it. She had lived life with so much joy, relishing each moment. She was unapologetically herself, and she’d treasured each day as if it’d been a precious gift.
Don’t worry about me,I imagine her saying now.Life is for the living, and you, my friend, need to live. Just please use some lip stain and maybe a dash of kohl. And for the love of all things holy, try to dosomethingwith that hair.
I smile through my tears and wrap her scarf around my ponytail in a sequence of stylish knots. I like to think that souls who leave the mortal plane end up among the stars, watching their loved ones. I hope that wherever she is, Laleh is happy.
Fastening the two bags with my most treasured possessions—mostly my books and some forging tools—I open the window and breathe in the fresh air. The desert ripples like molten gold beneath the rays of the midday sun. A sketch of the Kaldarian palace like the one in my workshop lies smashed at my feet. It must have tumbled off the wall from one of the explosions.
I touch the shattered glass with a wistful smile, envisioning my mother’s painting in my head. I remember thinking that it hadn’t done the palace justice, and that is still true. The palace is still magnificent—and hopefully when Roshan wakes to take the mantle and be coronated as its new king, it will be beautiful on the inside, too.
My memories are scattered after what happened in the temple, but Aran had written to my father that Roshan is alive, though still unresponsive. For the health of the kingdom, his condition is being kept quiet.
I still can’t imagine Roshan becoming the king of Oryndhr, butI have no doubt he will be a better ruler than his rotten brother. All four houses and the houseless have widely accepted him as their new leader. It didn’t matter that he was born on the wrong side of the blanket, not when his mother had been the queen’s sister. He’s a blood descendant of the Imperial House. As far as the Dahaka, I can’t think about them without feeling conflicted and hurt. Will Hamid take over in truth now that Roshan will be king?
