I threw my body against it, but it wouldn’t budge.
I pushed again, grunting. “Let me out!” I shouted, coughing into my sleeve. “Someone, anyone—help!”
Flames licked the wooden stand on which one of the Three Sages stood. The wood beneath it creaked and snapped. Like bones breaking. The giant statue rumbled and toppled onto the ground. It rolled, faster and faster—toward me.
Nowhere to run. I climbed onto a table and leapt for the lantern hanging above me. It swung, barely strong enough to hold my weight. I kicked up my dangling feet just as the Sage bowled beneath me into the fire.
The lantern snapped, and I tumbled onto the table.
Smoke filled my lungs. Coughing, I swerved toward the closest window—one that, thank Amana, had no screens. I pushed the jackets out first, then squeezed my body through, but the pattern of the latticework caught at my hips.
No, no, no. I wriggled. I panicked.So close.
“Norbu?” I shouted, seeing a figure outside. “Norbu, is that you?”
No answer.
I sucked in my stomach and drove my hips through the window. With one last push, I rolled away from the hall, panting and struggling to catch my breath. Then I saw Norbu coming out of the shadows.
“Norbu!” I shouted. “Thank Amana you’re—”
Norbu stepped on my wrist, pinning my hand to the ground.
Squirming, I kicked and cried, “Norbu, what are you—”
I stopped. He was carrying one of the heavy metal pans we used for smoothing our fabrics. I tried to yank my wrist away, but he was too strong. Too quick.
He raised the pan high, then brought it crashing down onto my hand.
Pain shot up from the tips of my fingers and flooded my brain. I screamed, but Norbu’s other foot covered my mouth, muffling the sound before it pierced the commotion behind us.
The last thing I saw was Norbu slipping out behind the hall. Then everything went black.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Icouldn’t move my hand. It felt like a pincushion, punctured by scorching needles from every side. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and my heart beat so fast I could hardly breathe. I tried to scream, but my mouth was gagged.
Something touched my broken hand, subduing the pain just enough for me to breathe.
I blinked, my vision bleary. I was lying on a bench, with a pillow slightly elevating my head.
Where was I? Not in my room. The smells here were crisper, an undertone of cinnamon and musk. The colors were a blur—splashes of periwinkle, an ocher wall, a tower of books with faded crimson spines. I shut my eyes, then opened them again.
How did I get here?
A voice. Male. Calm. “Ah, you’re awake.”
Edan’s thin face focused into view.
“Drink this.” He dribbled tea over the cloth in my mouth. It filtered down my throat, warm, but not hot enough to burn. It was surprisingly sweet, the taste of the medicine masked by tangerine nectar and ginger.
“I infused the tea with willow bark shavings,” Edan said. “That should help with the pain.” He untied the cord restraining my arm and lifted my hand. “Are you going to scream?”
I blinked.No.
“Now, I warn you,” he said, releasing the gag, “I hate it when girls scream.”
“I’m. Not. A. Girl,” I said between breaths.
