Something is not right. Our captors are more troubled about Eko than I assumed they would be over one sick prisoner.
Vizier Gyan enters the quad wearing his usual long-sleeved tunic that hangs past his wrists to his knuckles. He must be accustomed to the heat, as he does not sweat in the warmer clothes. A land symbol I did not see before is sewn on his jacket collar. He’s a Trembler? The only other Trembler I have met is Hastin. Last time I saw the warlord, he dropped boulders on a group of palace guards, crushing them to death. I cannot decide which is more fearsome, Burner or Trembler powers.
“An illness is sweeping the civilian camp,” the vizier announces, drawing a collection of sharp breaths from us prisoners. “We thought it was contained, but a man in this encampment has fallen ill. We’ll quarantine him from the general population. If you detect the beginnings of a fever in yourself or another man, report it immediately.”
“How are our families?” one of our men asks. “Are they all right?”
“We have no other news,” replies the vizier.
The men are not satisfied.
“My wife and children are in there!”
“We deserve to know if our families are well!”
Vizier Gyan signals for silence, but the demands multiply. My own fears expand. Mother and Brac will arrive any day. Vizier Gyan will confine Mother to the civilian camp, and given that Brac would not entrust his Burner identity to outsiders, he will be sent here with me. Skies, it would be good to see my brother, but I do not want him or my mother imprisoned. Neither camp is safe.
The guards step in to break up the distressed men, hauling off the loudest shouter. Upon seeing him dragged away to confinement, the rest of the protesters ramble off.
But there is nowhere to go. We are all trapped inside this cesspit together.
19
KALINDA
Indah holds my door open. I shove down my agitation at finding her inside my chamber and step past her. After a quick inspection, nothing appears out of order. Pons is stationed near the balcony, in full view of the room and the gardens. Longing sweeps over me. That’s where Deven would stand if he were here.
“Kalinda, your guests asked to wait for you to return,” Natesa says, her high voice nervous.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Indah adds, settling on my raised lounge. “Your servant offered us tea.”
Stick to truths. She can sense liars.
“I’m happy to entertain a visit, but I’m in sore need of a bath.” I hold out my dirty skirt as proof.
“This will only take a moment.” Indah pats the seat beside her. I join her, expecting this will be brief. Natesa hovers near the teapot and pretends not to eavesdrop.
“So you’re a Burner,” Indah remarks, an observation without condemnation. “I should have guessed. Your eyes flash when you’re irritated.” She laughs. “Yes, like that. My mother’s eyes do the same thing.”
“Your mother is a Burner? Didn’t you say she’s an Aquifier?”
“My father is an Aquifier; I said my mother birthed me in healing waters. She’s the datu’s Burner Virtue Guard. She’ll be pleased to hear of your powers. Burners are scarce, even in Lestari. My mother has not said so, but she wished I, her only child, would inherit her abilities.” Indah’s tone carries no resentment, merely acceptance. “I admire your restraint, Kindred. If you hadn’t revealed yourself, I wouldn’t have guessed your secret. Even Pons heard nothing. Your Galer guards are skilled at misplacing sounds.”
“Pons?” I ask, glancing at her guard in the balcony doorway.
“Pons is a Galer. He was born in a village south of here. His parents brought him to Iresh when he was a child.” He must be Indah’s collector of secrets. “I hope you don’t mind that, after I left the throne room this morning, I researched your heritage. I was fascinated to hear your mother was Rajah Tarek’s first-ever wife, Yasmin, and your father was the former bhuta ambassador Kishan Zacharias.”
I shield my dissatisfaction. “Who told you that?”
“Your servant. She’s quite sociable.”
I cut a censorious glance at Natesa, who stares a little too attentively at the teapot. “Natesa isn’t my servant; she’s my friend.”
“My apologies. Your friend told us how Rajah Tarek claimed you. An incredible story with a tragic ending.” Indah taps her fingers against the back of the lounge. “Some might think it’s strange Rajah Tarek was murdered and yet you escaped.”
“The warlord invaded the palace, and I was fortunate to get away. That’s what happened.”
“I believe that is part of what happened.” Indah’s lips curl upward knowingly, her golden eyes shimmering.
She’s enjoying this. Pons may be her informant, but she relishes the challenge of unburying secrets. I dread her next question will be about the Zhaleh, so I present a fatigued smile. “I should wash up now.”
Indah rises fluidly, in one motion. “Thank you for the tea.”
Pons goes to her and escorts the entrancing Aquifier out the door.
“No woman should be that beautiful.” Natesa checks her reflection in the mirror glass. “The gods should spread their beauty around to the rest of us.”
I sink back into the cushion. “How long were they here?”
“A couple minutes. Indah walked around but didn’t touch anything.” Natesa fixes the kohl at the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry I talked about your heritage. She acted like she already knew.”
“I understand. Indah can be persuasive.” Though I cannot say what she is after. Has she come to Iresh to participate in the trial tournament or to find the Zhaleh?
Natesa dabs lip stain onto her lower lip. “I was concerned when you didn’t come back last night. I was ready to ask Opal to find you when Indah showed up and told me you’d returned.”
I tamp down my surprise at Natesa’s worry for me. “Sorry. I should have sent you a message as soon as I arrived at the palace.”
“It’s all right.” She brushes more rouge onto her cheeks. “Indah said something interesting while she was here. Did you know women are considered equal to men in Lestari? They can even wear trousers. Can you imagine?”
More freedom would appeal to Natesa. Her dream is to become an innkeeper, but women cannot own commerce establishments in Tarachand. “Perhaps when we’re through here, you can go to Lestari.”
“Only if Yatin comes with me.” Natesa glances out the open balcony, hoping for a glimpse of her husky soldier. “I think he’ll want to.”
“Of course he will. He cares for you.”
She stares unseeingly at the sky. “My first night at the palace, Rajah Tarek summoned me to his chambers. Before he touched me, he said courtesans aren’t made for love but for loving.”