With a deep, aggrieved sigh, he takes his pants down. I think about whistling, but he’d get dressed again. His thighs are thick and muscled like the rest of him. He carefully folds his clothes and rests them on a stone. I’m devastated to discover that he has on underwear.
“Feel free to continue the show,” I tease.
“I’m going back to Yusan.” He turns around, walking back toward his horse.
I laugh and take another step in so I can clean my hair. The boulder I was standing on is slick. My foot slips, and I wait to land.
There isn’t another beneath it.
I fall before I can make a sound.
Water covers my head. I’m so shocked that it’s a moment before I even try to stand, but the drop was steep. Very steep. I sink fast, but my feet can’t touch the bottom.
Panic sets in, my arms and legs flailing. I claw the water, trying to reach the surface, but I’ve never been able to swim. Mama didn’t think it was proper for a girl to learn, so I didn’t.
I can’t believe I’m underwater. I was fine just a second ago. One step and now I’m in mortal danger.
I look up through the clear, hot water. I go to clutch my amulet, as it’s saved my life so many times, but my stomach turns. It won’t help. Not when I’m drowning. Even if I stop time, I can’t make myself know how to swim in the future any more than I can now.
Royo. I need Royo.
I stare up, hoping.
Please help, Royo. Please.
I scan the surface, but there’s no sign of him. He’s not coming. My lungs burn as I run out of air. Terror sits heavy in my stomach, and my heartbeat thuds in my ears. I’m going to die alone. Like I’ve always been. I thought… I thought things would be different once I met him. But I was wrong.
Desperate, I look up one more time. The last thing I see is the Night Rays of the Sun King. And then it all fades to nothing.
Chapter Forty-Five
Mikail
City of Loptra, Khitan
Gambria’s apartment smells of lumber and lilacs and overlooks the city of Loptra. Somewhere down there is her wife, whom she sent out for goat cheese when I knocked on their door. Gam served me tea and custard buns out of custom and politeness, but she’d rather I not be here. Not because I’m a Yusanian spy but because that’s how she generally feels about me.
I lean on the wall by the picture windows and glance down at the street, but really, I’m studying Gambria in the reflection of the glass. She sits with her legs crossed in a green armchair. Her pink pants are perfectly tailored to her small frame. She’s a touch over five feet tall and barely a hundred pounds, but she’s as formidable as a mountain.
“Tell me about the Marnans,” I say.
“Hello, it’s nice to see you as well, Mikail,” she drawls.
My lips quirk. There’s always been a certain tension with Gambria. She likes me, I think, but she’s protective of Fallador, and she believes I’m trouble. She and Fallador survived together, the last of their family, hiding in the cargo ship that took them from Gaya to Khitan during the Festival of Blood.
Gam has dark curls and light eyes, but aside from those features, she doesn’t bear much of a resemblance to her cousin. I knew her on the island, too, so her poor opinion of me is entirely personal.
“What do you want to know?” she asks, too inquisitive to not take the bait. “The Marnans live in the ice caves two days west of here, but you know that already, so what are you really asking?”
I smile. “How many are they?”
“Eight thousand, maybe ten at this point. It’s hard to say with how they live underground. Even their own people don’t have an exact number. When they need more room, they tunnel to another location. They have no need for a census.”
I have the same intel. I grimace internally. I was hoping for a far lower number, but without infiltrating their caves, it’s impossible to say for certain. Gambria’s wife, Lyria, is Marnan. Her mother left the caves and came to the city before Lyria was born. I assume in some kind of disgrace, but it’s hard to say.
“Where do they bury their dead?” I ask.
Gambria’s tea is nearly to her lips, but she puts her cup down, clanging it in the saucer. “No.”
