Page 48 of Ash Storm

Reka shivered in fear as one of the guards pulled on her elbow, half-leading her, half-dragging her to the hallway, which suddenly seemed much wider than before. As she watched, the walls and the floor rippled, coming together before moving apart again.

What the hell did they give me?

Chloe came out, looking bewildered as well.

The men led them silently down one of the many sets of stairs in the palace. With every step, Reka’s hope fell lower, because she couldn’t go back to that underground prison, couldn’t—

Chloe’s hand fell protectively on her arm, and Reka realized she’d cried out loud. She clamped her teeth together and swallowed hard. Whatever was happening, crying wasn’t going to help. She had to move past the panic, she had to—

And then they turned again. This was an area of the palace she’d never been to before. It was an immaculately clean room, decorated in white marble, with a stone in the middle and a … fountain?

It took her addled brain a moment to understand this must be a private hamam.

“Take off your clothes,” a voice said. It was Afsan’s English friend, the one who’d watched him murder Yusuf without batting an eyelash.

Alistair.

Alarms were going off in the dark recesses of her mind, but her body felt strangely relaxed. As if whatever happened couldn’t really be that bad. And she realized that had to be the effect of whatever they’d put in the water.

“Take off your clothes,” he repeated impatiently.

The same old women were there again, and Reka almost laughed out loud, because they seemed to be everywhere at once.

Chloe took off her dress first, seemingly unconcerned by the five men currently watching her. The drugs must be affecting her as well. She was led naked towards the fountain—not a fountain, an enormous bath—where one of the old women began scrubbing her body.

The other two women followed wordlessly. Reka tried to remember what these two spoke. Kurdish? Armenian? They were always sitting together, like her and Chloe, and now Reka wondered if they might be sisters.

Then it was her turn to take off her dress.

Alistair’s eyes narrowed with … not lust … more like … interest.

This is business for him.

Reka walked into the bath to get away from their gazes.

The water was warm and soothed her aching muscles. For a moment, Reka forgot everything. There was just her, the water, and this sense of soothing weightlessness.

And her brain was still shouting at her—telling her this feeling wasn’t real, that it was just the product of whatever drug they’d given her. But it felt so good to let go for a moment. And even when the women began scrubbing at her skin with an abrasive loofah, it was difficult to find it in her to care that much.

Eventually, they were pulled out of the water. This time, the towels the women used were softer. Once again, their skin was oiled, and then they were given a new sleeveless dress—similar to the other in shape and style, cinching tight at the waist, with a deep plunging neckline in the front and back and a full skirt that opened up almost to the hip every time they moved. This one was silver, decorated with sparkly crystals that shimmered with their every move.

Reka wondered vaguely—and this time the thought brought no panic—whether Afsan kept dresses in all colors at the ready.

“Sexy Cinderella,” Chloe said, looking at her.

“Right back at ya,” Reka laughed. Suddenly, everything seemed funnier—or, at least, less bad. And though a part of her recognized it was the drugs speaking, the rest of her didn’t care.

The sheer absence of fear was almost pleasurable.

And hidden under the drug-induced haze was a growing hope—it couldn’t be called anything else—that Ash would come through. She almost said his name out loud, but clamped her teeth at the last second.

It’s our secret.

Something told her he would get them out or die trying. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew this to be true.

Eventually, they were herded away to another room, where another woman—younger but also silent—did their hair and make-up. She kept it light on Reka’s face and lips, but thick and dark around the eyes. By the time she was done, Reka barely recognized herself.

The woman did Chloe’s make-up next, using peachy shimmering colors that complemented her friend’s natural coloring. The dark shadows under Chloe’s eyes disappeared as if by magic until, by the time the woman was done, Chloe looked the picture of health.