Knees suddenly weak, I sank into the chair by his desk.
Xitara—my brightest one. Forgive me for leaving you. It is not what I would choose, but I would pay any price for your freedom—for your happiness. You say you will not be happy without me, but I know that is not true. Live your life, xitara.
His writing ended there, unfinished. It was the farewell letter he had intended to give me when he left for Lapzur.
I held it to my heart, the page crinkled from the strained press of my fingertips. I missed Edan so, so much.
“Where are you?” I murmured, reaching for my pendant. The walnut shell was warm, the light of my dresses pulsing within.
I turned back to the pile of books when a chill came over me, a sudden breeze tickling the back of my neck.
“Maia?” a voice called, faint yet near. A voice I dreamed of these nights, so tender and dear was it to me.
Again, “Maia?”
I trembled. The sound came from the mirror of truth. Was this my demon sight again?
I picked up the mirror and looked within: Edan sat by a tall stack of books, his black hair falling over his eyes. Trees rustled behind him, and the sky above was blue and clear. It was day, whereas here, it was night.
“Edan?” I called urgently.
He looked up and jumped to his feet. “Maia? Maia, can you hear me?”
“Yes.” I reached out to touch him, but my fingers only slid along the cold glass of the mirror.
“Are you safe?” Edan asked. Dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well. Yet somehow, without the weight of his oath upon him, he seemed more carefree than before. What torture it was to see him so clearly yet not be able to touch him.
I nodded.
“I was hoping you’d find the mirror.”
His smile was infectious even from a thousand miles away. I couldn’t help smiling back, until I remembered why I was here.
“I need your help,” I started. “Lady Sarnai was badly hurt by the dress of the stars—it attacked her, and now she will not wake. Is there something here that can help her?”
His brow wrinkled in thought. “Check the third drawer. In the cabinet with the hawk. The lock will open to your touch—”
“It’s open already,” I said, managing to sound both sheepish and brusque.
“A small glass bottle labeledAN EXTRACT USED FOR THE GRAVEST OF INJURIES. I used it to save the emperor during the Five Winters’ War. A few drops will ease her pain, but I can’t promise it’ll wake her.”
I stared at the array of bottles. “I can’t read any of them.”
“Use the mirror.”
I held it over the bottles until I found the one Edan had described. “Does this mirror always translate ancient texts?”
“Only for you.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to stay away from my chambers for long,” Edan said with a roguish grin, then his voice softened. “When Khanujin forbade me to see you, I spent the time preparing to leave you. Everything I have is yours now, Maia. My possessions will speak to you, the way your scissorsdo.”
A flood of warmth crept up in my chest, and I savored it, wishing the cold would never come back. “Thank you.”
Edan started to speak, but I interrupted. He was going to ask about the wedding, or how I was, and I wanted to avoid those questions. “Did you make it to Agoria? Khanujin is looking for you.”
Edan shook his head. “The master I sought never left. He’s at the Temple of Nandun.”
