Pirkko pulled at Ev’s coat collar with one hand and shoved a handful of snow against her bare skin.
“Smoke, that’s cold,” Ev shouted. She threw Pirkko off and fought back with a snowball of her own. It exploded on impact and snow caught in Pirkko’s blond hair and the fur lining her hood, glittering white against her flushed cheeks. Pirkko blinked it out of her eyes with a grim expression on her face, and then when Ev opened her mouth to apologize, a snowball hit her in the face.
Alizhan had never thought she’d miss that little room at Zhenev’s, but Estva made everywhere else feel like paradise. Alizhan’s life was divided into her time in the kitchen—miserable—and her time in the mess hall, which was also miserable, and her time lying awake in bed—the most miserable of all.
“I’m sorry you don’t like it,” Ev said. “But you have to eat something.”
Alizhan pushed a lumpy bite of overcooked greens across her plate. “Nightvine smells awful,” she said. “It tastes worse. And I spent all shift cooking it. Breathing it. I just can’t, Ev.”
“There’s bread, then. Don’t stop eating, too. I already know you’re not sleeping.”
Alizhan should have been able to sleep. It was true there were twenty people in their dormitory, but Ev was the only one Alizhan could sense, and even she was quieter and quieter. The dormitory should have been a constant carnival of flashing, squirming dreams. Instead it was a graveyard. Once, Alizhan might have said the former scenario was torture and the latter was luxury—but the tomblike silence was fraying her confidence. She’d always assumed she was a bad sleeper because of her secret. Her power. The thing that was wrong with her. But if that thing was gone—and if it was gone, was it gone for now or forever?—then Alizhan was just a person. A person who still wasn’t good at sleeping. A person who still couldn’t see faces or get along with strangers or enjoy touching other people.
When there was nobody else in Alizhan’s head, instead of blessed, peaceful emptiness, her own feelings crowded the space until they were leaking out of her—in a bewildering and horrible way. Her eyes had filled with tears when she’d arrived in the kitchen at the start of her third shift and the hours of dull work had spread out before her like the icy Nightward plains. And Ev had left her there alone.
Rationally, Alizhan knew Ev didn’t have much choice, but that didn’t change her stupid, awful feelings. She let her fork clatter down on her plate. Next to her, Ev sighed. That was the only indication Ev had any thoughts on the matter. A sigh. Alizhan couldn’t sense her. She missed Ev’s constant stream of repressed irritation and judgment. Her amusement, her affection, her desire, her embarrassment, her worrying. All gone. Ev was right there, and Alizhan was lonely.
“When can we get out of here?” she asked, almost under her breath.
“Thiyo’s making progress. It won’t be long.”
Alizhan said nothing. Ev was trying to make her feel better. She’d even noticed that Alizhan spent her sleep shift lying still and awake on her bed, which was unexpected. It wasn’t like Ev could see inside her, after all. But Ev was observant. She took care of Alizhan.
Or she tried, at least.
“I think Pirkko might have a room to herself,” Ev said. “There are houses outside the dormitories, too. Not everybody here lives the way we’re living. If it would help you to move into different living arrangements, maybe we could ask.”
Fucking Pirkko. Alizhan hated her dumb face. She didn’t even know what it looked like, but she knew she didn’t like it. “And say what? My unnatural friend here requires privacy to sleep?”
“Give me a little credit. I could come up with something better than that.”
“I don’t think talking to Pirkko is a good idea.”
“Give her a little credit, too,” Ev said. “She’s nicer than you think.”
Ev was trying to tell Alizhan what people were like on the inside, since Alizhan was useless now. She didn’t like being useless, but she hated being told what to think even more. Alizhan knew exactly what Ev would say if she mentioned it—some slyly smiling version of oh really? and how does that make you feel?—and the answer was guilty. It made Alizhan feel like she should apologize to Ev. They were not going down that path. Not when Alizhan hadn’t slept or eaten.
Alizhan picked up her fork again and drew the tines through the mess on her plate. The metal screeched against the ceramic and the noise pierced the room for an instant. It was a clamor of voices and utensils and furniture creaking or being shoved across the floor, a meaningless mishmash of sound with no feelings simmering beneath it and no thoughts rising above it. What good were her ears, if this was all they could perceive? How did anyone live like this?
Ev was just guessing about people’s insides. And she was wrong about Pirkko, who ran some kind of police force for this evil place that left people to die in the cold for being different, and was definitely not trustworthy. Pirkko had taken away Ev—Alizhan’s only source of comfort and happiness in this icy hellhole—and Alizhan wasn’t planning to forgive her for it now or ever. And she had a dumb face.
Alizhan was being childish, she knew. But it was terrifying, being cut off from her senses and isolated from her friends. And something was rotten in Estva and everyone was ignoring it but her. Where had all these people’s feelings gone? Could all of these people have magic, even though it was against the rules? That didn’t make sense. Why would it be against the rules if everyone had it? Were these people even real? Were they alive? Had they done some kind of experiment on themselves to remove all their emotions? Was that why it was so easy for them to exile people into the Night to die? Was that why they could eat gross food all the time and not care?
One of those things was a much bigger problem than the other, and Alizhan ought to feel bad for equating them. Maybe she was the problem. Iriyat had always wanted to “cure” Alizhan, and now she was cured—maybe—but she still wasn’t normal. Estva was making it clear that there were things wrong with Alizhan that had nothing to do with mind-reading. Would she always be this way? Was there no way to fix her? And how long could a person go without sleeping before they died?
Alizhan hated this place and what it was doing to her. Before, she’d been fucked up, but she’d been special. Now she wasn’t special.
She shoved her plate away and stood up. “I’m going to bed.”
“Don't follow her,” Thiyo said when Ev stood up to go after Alizhan. “Give her some space.”
“Really? Is that what you’d want?”
To Ev’s surprise, Thiyo gave her question some thought. “Sometimes. Ideally, I'd sulk alone for a little while and then when I was ready, Ily—someone would come fawn over me in a way that made me feel better. But she's not me. Why don't you go somewhere else for little while and let me talk to her?”
It made Ev’s heart squeeze painfully tight to let Alizhan go off alone when she was so clearly upset about something. But maybe it was Ev’s fault. Was Alizhan still mad at her for switching jobs? Ev hadn’t had any control over that, which Alizhan knew perfectly well. It was unfair of her to hold a grudge for it. Still, maybe Thiyo was right and he should be the one to speak with her.
“You said she hasn’t been sleeping,” Thiyo said. “She’s probably just tired. And hungry. I’ll sneak her some better food and she’ll cheer up.”
“Why don’t you come down to the hot springs with me?” Henny said. “I want to see them, but I’d rather go with friends. Ket, do you want to come, too?”
He nodded. “Sorry to go without you, Thiyo. Maybe you can persuade Alizhan to come with you and both of you can join us.”
“Oh, I… no, thank you. I have work to do.”
It was rare to see Thiyo stumble like that. Maybe he wanted space as much as Alizhan did—if that was what she wanted. Ev couldn’t figure either of them out. It was a relief to follow Henny and Ket. For an instant, she didn’t have to wonder what the hell she was supposed to do next.
Estva was deceptive. It felt clau
strophobic, only a few large buildings and little clusters of houses beyond them, but there was a whole system of underground levels that connected all the buildings. The hallway sloped and they were funneled into a spiral staircase that led down into a warm, misty cavern. There was green lamplight ringing the edge of the room. The pool in the middle glinted with reflections. The ceiling rose up above them, a smooth dome over their heads.
“Wow,” Henny said. “I thought it was going to be small and bare and dingy like everywhere else around here.”
“I had no idea,” Ev said.
“They take their hot springs seriously. I guess we’re lucky to have it to ourselves.”
Ev walked to the edge of the pool. The surrounding stone was dry, so she sat down and removed her boots so she could dip a toe in. The heat of the water wavered between welcome and overwhelming and the striking change in temperature sent a tremor through her body. Behind her, she could hear the soft sounds of Henny and Ket murmuring their amazement in Nalitzvan and shedding their clothes. Ev wished Alizhan were with her, so they could marvel at this place together. Would Alizhan even like this? Or was she so unhappy here that nothing would give her a moment’s relief?
Ket kept some of his white linen underclothes on, covering his chest and his thighs, but Henny had no hesitations about stripping naked and sliding into the water. She sighed and laughed as the hot water enveloped her. An instant later, she was floating in the pool with her red hair fanning out in the water. Ket followed more cautiously.
“This is worth all that time we spent in the wagon,” Henny said. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling. “And of course we believe in whatever your mission is.”
“Right,” Ev said. She stood up, turned away from Henny and Ket, and began to shed her clothes. It was silly to face away from them, but something about removing her clothes seemed so much more vulnerable and intimate than simply being naked.
“We do, though,” Ket said, far more sincerely. “At least, I do. I don’t know all the details of what you’re doing, but we’d heard so much about Lady Lan… did Thiyo really do all those things?”
“I don’t know what you heard,” Ev said. She slid into the pool as quickly as possible, covering her nakedness with water. The heat shocked her skin. She’d gone too fast. “But knowing Thiyo, my guess is yes.”
“There were rumors that Lan had an affair with Ilyr,” Henny said, dropping out of her float and putting her feet on the floor of the pool. “If that were true, we’d have learned something very interesting about our prince.”
“Yes, ah,” Ev said, uncomfortable with the heat and the topic of conversation. Thiyo should tell his own secrets. She settled on a stone ledge at the edge of the pool, letting the water lap at her shoulders. “That part is true.”
Ket smiled and Henny frowned. It was a funny image, the two of them standing together with opposite facial expressions. Then Henny noticed Ket smiling and her frown deepened. “You’re such an idealist,” she said. “This isn’t going to change anything.”
“It might,” Ket said. “He’ll be king eventually. And he’s like us. And if he knew Thiyo, he knew someone… even more like us. And he didn’t have Thiyo executed.”
Henny was shaking her head. “The rules have always been different for royals. You think we’ve never had a king who loved men before? Or someone in the royal family with gifts? We have. Zhenev’s had royal clients with every kind of request—she told me. They do what they want, and hang the rest of us.”
Was there anywhere without such cruelties? Was there any place where all people treated each other with kindness? It angered and exhausted her. Wrongs were everywhere, and every right thing in the world, no matter how trivial, had come from a hard-fought victory. Justice didn’t spring up naturally. It didn’t grow wild. It had to be tended.
“Laalvur is no better,” Ev said. “Different, but no better. We’re trying to change things, too.”
But Ev couldn’t do it alone.
On his way to the dormitory where Alizhan was staying, Thiyo ran into Ayat. More accurately, she ran into him. Rolled her chair right over his foot. What could he possibly have done to deserve that? They’d barely spoken. She didn’t apologize. Her glare was so fierce that for an instant, he almost felt as though he was the one who should—no, that was absurd. Even when Thiyo knew he was in the wrong, he rarely apologized. Why should one little streak of black eye makeup and some uncreative rudeness unsettle him so?
“Don’t trust anyone here,” Ayat said.
“Including you? Not that you were on my list.”
“You’re new here,” she said. “I’m trying to help.”
“Are you allowed to trust anyone?” Thiyo asked with genuine curiosity. “Aren’t you supposed to doubt everything?”
“You think you’re smart,” she said, and went on her way without another word.
Would it be pathetic to say “I don’t think I’m smart, I am smart” to her back as she rolled away? It was hardly a good enough retort to shout down the hall, but Thiyo didn’t like to let anyone else have the last word. And why didn’t she like him? Or was she like this with everyone? Maybe doubting everything made people unfriendly.
Alizhan was leaning against the doorframe when he arrived at her room. Her arms were crossed over her chest, squashing the thick rope of her braid against the brown leather of her coat. Poor thing, she must still be cold. It was stifling in the dormitory, but Alizhan was small and easily chilled.
Then Thiyo glanced down and saw she was wearing boots, too.
“Going somewhere?”
“Who were you talking to in the corridor?” she asked.
“Ayat,” Thiyo said. “She works in the bindery. I don’t think she likes me.”
“Probably a safe bet.”
“Don’t be mean,” Thiyo said. Alizhan had actually sounded a little sad, even as she’d been so brutally honest. She didn’t usually have to make bets, no matter how probable, about other people’s inner lives. “That’s my thing.”
“So why did you come to check on me?” Alizhan asked. “I was expecting Ev. She’s the nice one.”
“How do you know I wasn’t just out for a stroll?”
“I don’t,” Alizhan said, and she pushed off the wall and walked down the corridor, forcing Thiyo to follow her. She led them out of the building and into the biting Night air, making Thiyo glad he’d worn his coat to dinner. Their feet crunched in the frost on the ground. Alizhan headed straight for a staircase set into the ramparts and she didn’t stop until they were both at the top of the wall, staring out into the endless shades of blue and black.
“People weren’t meant to live like this,” Alizhan said, and Thiyo wasn’t sure if she meant the darkness, the cold, the isolation, or something else.
“What’s got you so upset?” Thiyo said. “You barely even flinched when we talked about your tragic past. But you’ve been on edge since we arrived.”
“Do you ever feel like there’s nowhere in the world for you?” Alizhan said, more or less ignoring him. Her eyes were trained on some distant point where snow and sky faded into the same shade. There was just enough light from the city below that he could trace the proud outline of her profile against the darkness—the line of her brow, the sharp angle of her nose, and the inky richness of her hair, blacker than Night. He’d rarely seen her still and contemplative.
But her thoughts weren’t vague or dreamy. Even without being able to read him, she’d posed precisely the question that was bothering him. Maybe it was bothering her, too.
“If there’s nowhere in the world for me, that’s a problem with the world, not me.”
“That’s how you talk, not how you feel,” Alizhan said with unerring accuracy.
“Maybe I talk that way to convince myself,” Thiyo said. “And as lovely as it is out here, I thought you hated the cold.”
“I hate the silence more.”
“As for the world, you’ll make somewhere for yourself,” he said. �
�Isn’t that what you’re trying to do, in a way? I know it’s about getting justice for those kids and stopping Iriyat from hurting anyone else, but if it works, you’ll have carved out a space for yourself.”
“Maybe,” Alizhan said after a long moment, her breath clouding the air. Thiyo had come out here to reassure her, and he left feeling even less sure of himself.
24
An Unmarked Letter
MY CHERISHED FRIEND,
OUR PRINCE has left us to deliver Lan’s ashes to Hoi—though perhaps he simply couldn’t stand the thought of his new wife. I don’t suppose you’d have anything to do with his wild impulse to visit the islands, would you? I recall that you inspired his first trip, although your goals remain mysterious to me. What is there to be gained from contact with those savages? They are undoubtedly experts in violence and depravity, but you have no interest in such things. What knowledge could they have, isolated as they are by an ocean so ferocious and unforgiving that you still do not dare set foot aboard a ship?
More importantly—M has not been seen at court since shortly after our dear Prince’s wedding and Lady Lan’s absurdly extravagant funeral. I regret to report that her whereabouts are unknown even to myself. Given that M was in Ilyr’s private quarters with your pet thief and her entourage just before they escaped the city, I’d wager she’s followed them Nightward.
Have your people in Estva keep an eye out.
It’s been a long time since she’s left Nalitzva. She may be coming your way at last. Prepare yourself.
* * *
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