"None. It all went down flawlessly, and the cover story is in place. The three senior brothers were killed by Lord Navuh for the grave transgressions of disobedience and disrespect perpetrated by trespassing on the lord's harem. The harem's human guards reported what they had been thralled to believe to the immortal outer perimeter guards, and from there the news was delivered to every corner of the island. So far, it seems that the junior brothers and the army have accepted the explanation. No one has challenged the narrative yet."
2
SULLHA
Numbness settled in Sullha's body, a soft gray fog that occupied the space where her thoughts usually lived and made everything feel muffled, as if she was experiencing the world around her from underwater.
"Mama, I'm hungry." Tomek tugged on her hand, pulling her back to the here and now. "I want to eat."
"Of course, my sweetness." She rose to her feet and let him lead her toward the central courtyard and the dining area.
The evening air was warm, as it usually was on the island, the light breeze carrying the scent of cooking that lingered after the dinner service. It was strange that she was registering the smells of garlic and onions and the faintly bitter note of the leafy greens that had been steamed for the side dish, while feeling so numb, so hollow on the inside.
Lanterns were lit along the path, illuminating the worn concrete with pools of yellow light and creating shadows between them.
Tomek was uncharacteristically quiet beside her. He usually filled the walk back from the playground with runningcommentary about who had said what and which friend had done what wrong and how so and so had cried over a scraped knee. Tonight, he was just walking, his small hand warm in hers, his face turned up toward her at intervals as if he was checking on her.
"Why are you sad, Mama?"
She tightened her fingers around his. "I'm not sad."
"You look like you are."
"I'm just tired. It was a long day."
He frowned at her and twisted a corner of his lips in that way that indicated he didn't believe her. But he was also five, and the part of him that wanted to believe his mother was all right was bigger than the part of him that doubted her.
"Okay," he said, but his eyes lingered on her face. "After we eat, we go to our room, and then you can rest."
She squeezed his little hand gently and smiled at him.
The kitchen was nearly empty when they entered the dining area. The dinner service had ended a couple of hours ago, and the cleanup crew had finished wiping down the tables and washing the concrete underneath them. Only a small section of the kitchen counter was still open, serving whoever got hungry for a snack after dinner. There were leftovers to make sandwiches from, fruit, and sometimes even cookies. Pitchers of cold tea, juice, and milk were available throughout the night. A single cook was on duty, an older woman whose name Sullha wasn't sure about. Nimah? Rimah? Limah? Something like that.
The woman nodded at them as they approached.
"What would you like?" Sullha asked Tomek.
"Chocolate milk."
"What would you like to eat? You said you were hungry."
"Sandwich."
"What kind?"
He thought about it. "Cheese."
"Cheese it is."
The cook smiled at him and prepared the plate, sliding it across the counter along with a tall glass of chocolate milk. "Anything for Mama?" she asked.
"No, thank you," Sullha said. "I'm still full from dinner." She patted her stomach.
The truth was that she didn't feel hungry because her heart was heavy, not because she was still full, and she might get hungry later.
Sullha carried the plate to one of the long tables near the open side of the dining hall, where the air moved more freely and the evening breeze could reach them.
Tomek climbed onto the bench next to her and reached for the milk first. He took a long pull and lowered the glass with a chocolate ring around his upper lip.
