Page 131

“Please,” I whisper, my voice broken. “All I want is to find my way to that Khuno River Palace. Please. To whatever benevolent gods are listening, take what you want from me, just let me find my way.”

But of course, nothing happens.

Until…something does.

The walls around me shiver and move, and the tears on my face dissolve.

Startled, I rise to my feet and touch my cheek, amazed to find it dry.

That wasn’t my own magic, was it?

I take a few halting steps forward, and then Ifall.

I grunt as my body collapses onto a muddy bank.

My fingers dig into the soil just to confirm that itisin fact mud and not whatever substance the ley line was made of. But it smells like loam and feels like it too. The distant calls of birds and the closer buzz of insects distracts me.

Gingerly, I push myself to my feet and take in my surroundings. Thick foliage stretches in almost every direction, though I catch glimpses here and there of murky water beyond a section of trees to my left.

My pleas…worked.

Someone or something unseen listened to me. I touch my cheek once more, remembering what I said.Take what you want from me.And it had. The skin is now dry, my tears eatenup by that otherworldly power. I’m caught for a moment in wonder. They took my tears, and they dropped me off…here.

I glance around. It’s definitely not the steppe. And now that I’m looking, I catch sight of the glimmering wards suspended in the air nearby.

Thisisthe river palace I was trying to get to.

I take a few tentative steps away from where I landed, crossing the mushroom circle I’d been inside a moment ago. I look behind me, taking in the shimmering ley line entrance.

I’ll have to get back on that thing at some point. I try not to cringe at the prospect.

Turning away from it, I wave a hand, allowing my magic to scrub the mud from my body, and then I approach the ward. I touch the wall of spells just as I had the ley line. And like the ley line, these spells put up no resistance. My hand slips through, then the rest of my body, and I head in the same direction I went the last time I was here. I’m not entirely sure it’s the correct one, not until I catch sight of a strikingly white column through the dense trees, the stone glittering where the light hits it.

I cut through the vegetation, heading up to the palace, my lips parting all over again as I take in the carved marble and gold-and-glass detailing.

I stop only when I get to the bronze doors. More wards drape these, but they seem indifferent to my presence, and I’m able to open them with only a little assistance from my magic.

There are wonders to behold inside this palace—trees of stone and glass, veins of gold that run through the stone. Silks and linens in colors my eyes have never seen on fabric before. Tapestries so intricately woven, they look like paintings. And paintings so expertly crafted, they seem to come alive.

I walk past it all, unmoved, as my grief rushes back in, strangling me in its grip. No art and no wealth can compensate for what I’ve lost.

I don’t stop wandering through the palace until I find a bedroom. Once I do, I drop onto the mattress, and there, I surrender wholly to my pain.

Roxi…

Roxilana…

ROXILANA!

I wake with a gasp.

Sitting up, I blink, the skin near my eyes feeling stiff and crusty. My brows come together when I take in the thin muslin draped above my bed, the fabric caught in the boughs of the carved wooden bedposts, green blown-glass leaves protruding from them.

Where in the gods’ names?—

ROXILANA!

I startle again, my heart pounding fast at Memnon’s panicked voice.