I wave, too, calling something far less polite.
A bolt of lightning arcs over the ship in the rosy-gold dawn sky, this time striking the yards holding the sails along the mainmast—right above where Meredy and I are standing. As they start to fall, I realize the mast itself is broken. And leaning in our direction.
I have to get Meredy out of its path.
Shouts rise up from the deck, from shore, but all the noise fades to a whisper as I use the instant before the mast’s descent to shove Meredy to safety.
I try to move with her, but the weight of the split mast crashes into me, stealing my breath. All sound is drowned out by a sudden ringing in my ears, and something wet coats my face, but I can’t wipe it away no matter how hard I try to coax my arm and fingers into working. Agony twists my body in ways I didn’t know it could move.
The ringing softens enough for me to hear Meredy swallowing a sob. Thank the stars she’s alive. And, hopefully, unhurt.
I try to tell her I’ll be all right, that everyone should look after Kasmira first, then try to ask if someone could spare a moment to move the fallen mast. Preferably Lysander. All that comes out is an incoherent mumble. I make up a funny remark about how bards in Karthia will soon be competing to write the best ballad about the girl who survived Shades and a mad king only to be defeated by a piece of wood, but the words get lost somewhere in the swirling black that swallows me whole.
IV
Bright light teases the edges of my eyelids, urging me toward wakefulness.
Blinking into the glow of late afternoon from a bed beside a wide window, I lean forward to peer outside, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The room I’m in overlooks a bustling street from at least one floor above ground. Men and women wearing outfits of bold-colored silks emerge from an apothecary, sunlight glinting off potion glasses in their baskets, and for the briefest moment I feel a faint and familiar yearning. Other people hurry up and down the road carrying bread, fruit, or flowers. A girl sits on an overturned basket in the shadow of an herb-seller’s stall, plucking the strings of a small and handsome painted instrument I don’t recognize. Red blossoms thrive between shop rows, their broad petals stretching toward the sun. I don’t see anyone in a cloak, which means it must be warmer here than the weather we left behind in Karthia.
The sound of giggling drifts up from the road. Nose to the glass, I search for its source: a tiny child watching a wooden cart full of strawroll by. An older woman, her hair wrapped in a glittering red scarf, has the driver’s seat. She waves to the child, then flicks the reins of—
My head throbs, white-hot all over.
I look hastily away, taking deep breaths. But when I look back, the cart is still there, though a little farther down the street. Instead of the usual horse or mule, the woman is driving a creature right out of the story Meredy told me: a dark blue-black lizard with a long snout and even longer tail, roughly the size of one of the king’s beloved hunting hounds. It leaves a trail of talon marks in the street’s red stone paving as it walks, but soon it can go no farther as more children flock to greet it.
Meredy has to see this. Kasmira, too. They’ll tell me whether I’m dreaming.
As I turn to look for them, I suddenly remember: Kasmira’s in danger. All that blood on her face, the way she was convulsing, a bolt of lightning forming in the clear morning sky... and there was something about a heavy piece of wood, too.
Guess that explains why my head feels like somebody used it for sparring practice.
But my pain immediately fades to background noise as I think of Kasmira. Nothing matters until I know she’s all right, and the rest of the crew, too. I need to know we’ve all reached this mysterious land of huge lizards together.
There’s a pale silk screen around my bed, but if I lean back far enough on my pillows, I can see most of the room. I sweep my gaze hopefully over white walls adorned with paintings of seascapes and flowers, a blue-and-gold patterned tile floor, and palm fronds in red clay pots scattered throughout the neat rows of beds in this large room. All the beds around mine are screen-less and empty.
I throw back my blankets and jump out of bed. I have to find Kasmira.
My head spins, and for a moment blackness creeps into the corners of my eyes, forcing me to grip the side of the bed and take a deep breath. It turns out leaping to my feet wasn’t the best plan. Slowly, the darkness retreats, but it’s replaced by something just as unpleasant: nausea. Swallowing hard, I grab my clothes. Someone’s draped them over the back of a chair beside my bed, perhaps the same person who left a familiar book on the seat cushion. Not evenThe Baroness’s Secret Heartachecan make me smile right now, but it’s good to know Meredy is somewhere nearby. Hopefully with Kasmira.
Just as I’m about to pull off the thin blue nightdress I don’t remember putting on, a high, cheerful voice calls from out of sight, “Oh, good! I’m glad you’re awake. Be right with you.”
“Where’s Kasmira?” I demand, not in the mood to wait.
“She’s in the closed ward downstairs, where we keep the more serious cases,” the voice chirps in answer. “The rest of your ship’s crew are all there with her, even the bear. There’s absolutely no need, as she’s in excellent hands, but they’re keeping vigil.”
My shoulders slump with relief. I could hug that voice.
“How long was I out?” I add.
“A day and a half. You probably don’t remember much since the accident, thanks to the tonics we gave you—just to keep you comfortable and still while the healers worked.”
Bustling out of the shadows of a corridor leading off this large room is a girl in crisp white healer’s robes that look to be two sizes too big. She carefully clutches several full potion glasses in each of her small hands.
“How’s your head feeling, Master Odessa?” She pushes the silk screen aside, then perches herself on the chair holding my clothes and book without spilling any potion. Now that she’s sitting, I notice theroots of her shoulder-length pale blond hair are as dark a brown as her skin and eyes.
“I’m Healer’s Assistant Azelie,” she adds. “Welcome to Glia Raal, the easternmost city in the great kingdom of Sarral.” Her tone is brisk, almost businesslike, but a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.
Anger crackles across my skin. This wasn’t how I imagined arriving at our destination. The weather workers on the beach conjuring storm clouds is one of my last memories from before the world dissolved into blackness. “Tell me, Azelie, are you smiling because my friends and I were almost murdered byyourfriends? Or is there something else that’s funny? If so, I could really use a laugh right now.”
