“Why not? What should I call you?”
“Anything else.” Edan hesitated, looking suddenly pensive. “The emperor won’t be pleased I’m gone. He may dispatch people to come find me. Or worse, if word gets out that I’m missing, the shansen might try to capture me.”
I swallowed uneasily. “I should tell you, I saw Norbu just now. In the drinking house.”
“Norbu?” Edan raised an eyebrow.
I nodded. “I thought he was to be executed.”
“It’s possible he bribed his way out of prison,” considered Edan. “With his wealth and reputation, it wouldn’t be unheard of. You needn’t worry about him, though. He won’t remember you’re a woman.”
That wasn’t why I was worried. “He was with a group ofBalardans.”
A shrug. “He probably hired them to take him out of A’landi. Depending on how he escaped, the emperor’s soldiers might be after him. We’re the least of his concerns. And more importantly, he’s the least of yours.”
I hoped so.
With a long sigh, I glanced at the sky. The sun was setting now, its rim a deep burnt crimson. In three months’ time, when the sun burned bright red, the shansen would arrive at the Autumn Palace, and Emperor Khanujin and Lady Sarnai would be wed.
A reminder my time was short.
After Edan picked up our camels, we led them out of town and made camp by a small pond just outside the Samarand Passage. It was shallow and overrun with flies, but I filled my canteens to the brim. Edan had warned me his enchantment on our canteens wouldn’t last through the desert, and the pond would be the last reliable source of water for days.
“That worried look will be permanently etched on your face if you don’t stop frowning,” he remarked as I sat cross-legged, cutting a pattern for the bodice of one of the dresses.
“Easy for you to say,” I retorted. “You’re not the one with the impossible task of pleasing Lady Sarnai. Bet she’s counting the days until she can order my death sentence.”
“Well, Emperor Khanujin certainly won’t welcome me with open arms if you fail. Ididdisobey him by coming with you.”
True, and I hadn’t been grateful.
I set the collar down on my lap. “I heard the merchant say His Majesty was ill.”
Edan cracked his knuckles, something I had never seen him do. “Emperor Khanujin is prone to illness from time to time. Your gods will watch over him.”
“Shouldn’t you go back to heal him?”
“I would guess he’s more angry than unwell.”
I didn’t understand what he meant, but the edge in his voice was a warning not to pry. “Well, thank you for coming with me.”
“Thank me after you make the dresses.”
I shook my head. “I still don’t believe it’s possible. The gods live in a separate world from us,” I explained. “Our worlds do not touch.”
“Except through magic,” he corrected me. “I wasn’t lying when I told you Amana’s dressescanbe made.”
“You also said they shouldn’t be.”
“True,” Edan said. “Those dresses have great power—power that is not meant to exist in the mortal world. But it’s good you’re reluctant. That just might keep you alive.”
I’d never seen him so serious. “Are you trying to frighten me?”
“No.” Edan’s grim expression didn’t change. “I want you to know that some journeys have ends, but not this one. This one will change you. Irrevocably.”
“Don’t all journeys change you?”
“It isn’t the same.” He leaned forward. “I, too, once journeyed beyond the stars.”
