“You’re coming with me,” she said. Despite the fact that she looked old enough to be my mother, she scooped me into her arms like I was a young child. I didn’t have the energy to help her bear up my weight. The only sensations I was aware of were the scorching heat, the blinding pain, and the eerie feeling of blood trickling down my arm and dampening my clothing.
“My mirror,” I gasped as it fell from my slackened grip. “I need it?—”
There was a muffled cracking sound as the woman accidentally trod on it. “Oh dear, I’m sorry,” she murmured. She bent down, careful to not jostle me too much, and shifted my weight so she could pick up the mirror and tuck it into my pocket for me. “There; it’s only a very small crack, and I can get you a new one if you’d like. But don’t worry about mirrors. We need to get you some help.”
“Th-thank you,” I said with a groan. I was in too much pain to think straight.
The large woman wended her way through the crowd. “I’m Uberta, dear. What’s your name?”
“A-Alia.”
“I’m going to get you help, don’t you fret,” she told me in a kind, motherly way. “We’re nearly there. There are some healers nearby.”
“Where are we? What…what country is this?”
“Pyren, of course.”
Pyren? I thought back to the maps hung up in Rahil’s library. Pyren was on the opposite end of the world, far beyond Rookwyn and Coronis, farther even than the Shadowed Mountains. I squinted in the bright light. Everyone wore the same type of light, flowing, white and gold robes that shielded them from the scorching sun overhead. Bright banners in crimson and gold emblazoned with a flaming phoenix fluttered from each tower top.
I really was on the other side of the world, just as I had wished. Was Rahil a secret sorcerer with magical powers? Had he somehow banished me so I wouldn’t touch his precious lamp?
The lamp.
That had to be at the heart of me being here. Did the lamp have some sort of magical ability to grant wishes? If so, it would logically follow that Rahil would fiercely protect such a valuable object, and it would also explain his fabulous wealth.
My eyelids grew heavier. The sun was too bright and all the unanswered questions were hurting my head.
“Halt right there!”
Uberta stopped. Through my half-closed eyelids, I could see a man in dark clothing approaching, flanked by two guards.
“She’s injured and needs help,” Uberta began. “Vizier, please?—”
The man in the middle held up his hand. “Show me her arm.”
“See?” Uberta carefully moved me so my injury was more visible. “She says she was stabbed.”
“I don’t care about a little blood. Show me her wrist.” He reached out to grasp my injured arm and his eyes raked across my skin.
My wrist? I forced my eyes open. The man immediately made me think of a venomous cobra. He had cold, calculating eyes, hair black as midnight, and a dark goatee that was trimmed so meticulously that he must have used a slide rule to shave. He was looking at my wrist, eyes narrowed into slits.
I looked down and felt my mouth drop open. Some sort of tattoo had mysteriously appeared there. The man gently scrubbed at it, as if he expected the threads of the purplish-navy color to wash away like ink.
It didn’t.
Fighting to breathe through my pain, I lifted my head. The tattoo looked like wisps of smoke curled around mywrist like a strange bracelet. It was too artistic to be a bruise but had similar coloring to one. The man gently scraped his fingernail against it with no effect. Where had it come from?
“Vizier, she needs immediate medical attention,” Uberta protested. “I really must insist?—”
“Guards, search the girl. Give me any rings, amulets, tokens, anything like that she may have.”
My wedding ring was stripped from me, as were my necklace and bracelet, followed by the vials of potions I had kept on me and my mirror, all handed to the cold-eyed man before I could work up the energy to object. He greedily examined each one, holding them up to the light. “Interesting. Anything else?”
Hands reached for me again, but this time, Uberta pulled me away.
“Leave her be!” Uberta snapped. “You can’t just take her possessions without cause. She needs help or she’ll die!”
“Give her to the guards,” the man said. “She’s under arrest.”
