I clapped. And waited.
My nose caught a whiff of ginger. Then I opened my eyes. My jaw dropped—everything I’d imagined appeared before me.
“You went a little overboard,” Edan said, with a hint of approval.
The food flowed off the cloth. “Is it…real?”
He passed me a bowl. “See for yourself.”
My hands curved over the bowl, and a sharp pang of hunger stirred inside me. I picked up a dumpling, bit at its skin, chewed, swallowed. My shoulders melted with contentment, and I ate ravenously, not bothering to ask any more questions.
Edan laughed at me.
“What’s so funny?”
“The way you look.” He reached for a handful of dates and currants. “I haven’t seen anyone so gluttonous since the end of the Great Famine. Maybe you should have become a palace taster instead of a tailor.”
“I can’t help it if you can’t taste anything.” I gulped a spoonful of porridge, then greedily turned for one of the coconut buns.
Edan wasn’t touching the chicken, I realized. He chewed the fruit slowly, as if he was ruminating on something.
I set down my coconut bun. “Did you grow up during the Great Famine?”
“A different sort of famine,” Edan said. “My stepmother was a terrible cook, my father a terrible farmer. I grew up half wild, on a diet of grass and sand. Yams, when I could find them.”
It was the most he’d ever told me about his past. “Is that why you’re not eating much?”
“No, I’m just not as hungry as you are,” he teased. “Eat up. No more talk of famines.”
As he reached for a piece of flatbread, a gold bracelet peeked out from under his sleeve. No, not a bracelet. A cuff—plain, with no ornamentation or jewels. I’d never seen it before. His sleeves had always covered his wrists. Could it be the talisman he’d said he couldn’t show me?
“You mentioned that enchanters channel their magic through talismans,” I began. “I noticed that Emperor Khanujin always wears an amulet with a bird on it. He isn’t an enchanter. What is it?”
Edan dug his fingers into the pale sand. “Something to protect him,” he said dismissively.
“Why does he need an amulet? I thought it was your duty to protect him.”
“It is my duty toservehim,” Edan corrected. “There is a difference.”
I looked at Edan’s wrist again; I wondered about that gold cuff. I picked up my bowl once more, swallowing a mouthful before I dared to ask, “Would you do anything he asked?”
Edan straightened. His bread was on his lap, untouched. He seemed to have forgotten about it—or lost his appetite. “I came here with you, didn’t I? Despite his telling me not to.”
I frowned. “That just shows you’re good at evading direct commands.”
“Yes,” Edan muttered, more to himself than to me. “Unfortunately, Khanujin has learned to be quite accurate in his speech.”
“So you have to obey him?”
“Yes.”
“Or what?”
“That’s enough questions for today,xitara,” Edan said. “It’s nearly dark, and contrary to what you think, Iamgoing to retire to my tent.” He rose, pulling up his hood. “Be careful of snakes and scorpions.” A pause. “But tell me if you see any spiders.”
He disappeared into his tent.
I didn’t see any spiders.
