“Ask for the largest ones possible. I’ll need three—no, make that four. Read on.”
“‘Gloves, to be knit from spider silk—’”
“You’ll have to make those,” he interrupted, “first thing—the desert will be our initial stop.”
“‘Sturdy shoes, preferably made of leather, with sturdy laces. A carpet with some fringes, one color or two, will be sufficient.’” I frowned. “Why do we need a carpet?”
“The shoes and carpet, you’ll have to make too,” Edan said instead of explaining. “Guess you’ll be busy.”
“Lastly, my scissors.” I set the list down. “Can I ask you something? Why is Lady Sarnai so fixated on these enchanted dresses if she hates magic?”
“Because she doesn’t believe you can make them,” Edan said tightly. “Because she’s hoping we’ll die on the trip.” A bit more cheerfully, he added, “We’ll just have to prove her wrong, won’t we?”
“I’m not sureIbelieve they can be made.”
“Tell me,” Edan said, “for a girl with so much imagination, why are you so skeptical of magic?”
“I’m not skeptical. Not anymore. I just don’ttrustit.”
“Disappointing,” Edan murmured. “After all the times it’s saved you.”
I heaved a sigh, feeling I owed him an explanation. “I don’t even trust the gods. Not to listen, anyway. My father prays to Amana every morning, every night. When my brothers went to war, I prayed too—to every god, then to every fairy, every spirit I could think of—to bring them back from the war safe. But Finlei and Sendo died, and Keton—” A lump rose in my throat, strangling my words. “He came home, but he may never walk again. What is there left to believe?”
“It is wishful thinking to hope the gods might listen to you.” Edan’s tone was gentle. “Just as others are naïve to think magic works miracles. It is not always so. But…” He paused, a grin forming on his lips. “But sometimes, especially at the hands of a powerful enchanter such as myself, miracles do happen. Perhaps on our journey, we will find a way to help your family.”
I thought of how Edan had healed my hand. Maybe therewassome hope for Keton. And Baba.
“The journey shouldn’t take longer than two months. Which should leave you a good three weeks to make the gowns after we return.”
The idea of two months alone with Edan made me nervous. I fidgeted as if I were sitting on a pincushion. “Maybe we could join a caravan.”
“With strangers?” Edan said. “Best not to attract attention. There shouldn’t be too many bandits along the Spice Road this time of year, but we can’t take any chances. We’ll be faster on our own. So while I know you must be itching to discard your”—he looked me up and down—“yourmanlydisguise, it might be wise to retain it a little longer.” He tilted his head, considering. “Though trading in the Samarand Passage would be easier if you were a girl.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “Why?”
“I could barter you for at least five camels,” Edan mused. “Steal you back after a few hours before the merchant makes you one of his wives.”
I balked. “There is no way—”
“Fine, stay a boy.” He hid a smile at my distress.
“I can manage,” I said stiffly. “Where are we going?”
“To three corners of the continent,” Edan said. “For sunlight, we’ll go west through the Samarand Passage into the Halakmarat Desert, then north to the border of Agoria for moonlight, then, for the stars, south to the Forgotten Isles of Lapzur in Lake Paduan.” He turned for the door. “We’ll purchase what you’ll need to make everything on the list. And Maia…” He lingered on my name. “Bring the scissors.”
“I said I would.”
“Just making sure you don’t forget.” He winked. “You’ll need them.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
For once, Edan didn’t sneak up on me. He arrived at the palace gates punctually at dawn the next day, leading two sturdy, well-fed horses, packed and saddled.
He’d traded his usual all-black attire for an ill-fitting, dull green tunic and trousers that had seen better days. His hair was hidden under a tawny muslin cloak, stray curls escaping from the hood. Several leather pouches dangled off his belt, a satchel was slung on his left shoulder, and under his arm he carried a thick stack of books belted tightly together.
“I hardly recognize you without your court finery,” I greeted him. “I didn’t think you owned anything except black silk.”
“I thought it wise not to look too prosperous,” Edan replied, stifling a yawn. “I welcome any opportunity to sleep a few extra minutes rather than dress finely. Mornings don’t become me.”
