Thief of Cahraman

by Lucy Tempest

  My brain overheated again as I tried to think of ways out as Loujaïne divided the other nine groups based on gemstones. Cherine halted my thoughts when she slammed into my back, pushing me right behind Fairuza and the handmaidens who held her train. The fourth girl who joined our group was a redhead who wore her hair in a complicated braid and had skin too fair for this climate. Last was Cora, who shuffled behind us like a child reluctantly tailing her mother around the market.

  Loujaïne turned and climbed back up the stairs, leading us to a wing on the far end of the first floor by a ceiling-high window that overlooked one of the palace gardens. Armed guards in curly-toed slippers and red vests with scimitars hanging from their hips stood between each set of doors. Their eyes followed us as we passed.

  “Is there a criminal on the loose?” I asked as we entered our quarters.

  “No,” answered Loujaïne. “They’re here at your door and below your balconies all day, every day. For your safety.”

  “And for your incarceration,” went unspoken but heard loud and clear.

  Just like that, any plan I had or could come up with fell apart.

  There was no way I could sneak out once everyone was asleep with that many guards standing out there, watchful and armed.

  Feeling my anxiety spiking and my heart occupying my throat all over again, I dazedly looked around the expansive space that was to become my cage. It was all elaborately decorated in a palette of earth tones. Five brown-wood four-poster beds with deep-red canopies were spread out along the wing. A step down from the beds was a luxurious sitting area with cushions, short tables, and equally squat furniture. Wicker baskets sat open, displaying their contents, mostly balls of yarn and spools of cloth. Rolling pins and pots and pans sat in open cabinets. Flutes, lyres and some ancestor or cousin to the violin were arranged on eye-level shelves. Leather-bound books, rolls of parchment, ink vials and feathers were stacked on lower ones. There were so many other things to entertain ourselves with or to display whatever talents or skills we had.

  Beyond thievery, I had none.

  I’d thought I wouldn’t have to worry about that. Nariman had made it sound like the hard part was getting into the palace. She’d made no mention that I’d be virtually a prisoner and there’d be no way I could get out to search for her damned lamp.

  As the other girls explored the wing, I took out the summons and reread it, looking for anything I could use as an excuse to roam around. I found nothing.

  Who was I kidding? There were guards outside this giant communal bedroom. The moment I stepped out, I’d probably be shoved back inside at sword point. Whenever I’d stolen while I lived with the Fairborns, I’d at least had the privacy of the guest room and a front door I could walk out of whenever I wanted.

  But this…this was going to be tough, if not impossible.

  Feeling suddenly exhausted, all the bracing stress of the past hours deserting me, I stumbled deeper into the room, coming apart at the seams like a ragdoll that had been caught in a tug-o-war. Maybe in the morning I’d see a solution I was now blind to.

  As I approached the bed that was closest to the door, I realized it was enchanted. The moment I touched it, the sheets turned a warm yellow and the cover and throw pillows became a satin-gossamer pattern of cream and gold. It was mimicking my dress!

  There might be no privacy beyond the canopies, but this was the most unbelievable bed I’d ever sleep on. Queen-sized and dressed with silky-smooth, freshly-washed, fragrant sheets that could change color and texture. All I wanted was to curl up beneath the covers and fall into bottomless slumber under its magic spell.

  But magical and all, I’d still give anything to trade it with the bed in the Fairborns’ guest bedroom where I could barely fit, in a world where they were safe in adjacent rooms and none of this madness was happening.

  Fairuza’s handmaidens got to work emptying her bags into her bedside wardrobe while she stood by Loujaïne, surveying us and whispering out the side of her mouth, no doubt gossiping about us. Cora took the bed closest to mine, immediately kicking off her shoes and toeing them under the bed. Cherine beat the redheaded girl to the bed across from mine by pouncing on it before the other girl could set her satchel down.

  I eased off my shoes to move around quietly, surreptitiously searching every nook and cranny for escape potential. Pretending to admire the décor I slid my hand over walls and other surfaces, tapping around for any hollow spots that would thump, or floorboards that would creak. And from the limited search I could make in the others’ presence, I found nothing.

  Unless there was some hidden trapdoor, the only way out was the front door. I wouldn’t be able to sneak out. Unless…

  Before the idea that burst into my mind had a chance to fully form, I took off all my jewelry, strode back to the door and held the pile up to Loujaïne.

  “Excuse me, Your Highness. I can’t seem to find a safe around here. Do you know where it is?” I asked innocently, slowly batting my lashes for a dumb, doe-eyed look.

  “There are no personal safes here,” she said, taking her first good sweeping look at me.

  I hated to attract her attention, but this was my only chance of getting out of this room to try to find out where the lamp might be. “Where am I supposed to keep my valuables?”

  “Haven’t you brought a jewelry box?”

  I came closer, sticking my head in her personal space. “But someone can open that. Or carry it off altogether. These are very precious items! They’re all that’s left of my family’s fortune. I can’t leave them lying around here where anyone—” I jabbed my thumb towards Cora and the handmaidens, making a show of being uncomfortable. “—can take them.”

  Fairuza touched her earrings, my false paranoia resonating with her. “Auntie, why don’t we have safes here?”

  Loujaïne frowned, seeming inconvenienced rather than concerned by our questions. “The thought hadn’t occurred to us.”

  “I have one in my chambers at home,” Fairuza said. “I don’t want to risk leaving anything precious out for anyone to steal.”

  “There’s no risk of that here, I assure you.”

  Fairuza squinted at her. “Didn’t you just tell me that the king’s former advisor tried to steal—”

  Loujaïne raised a hand, silencing her. “As you wish. You can all leave your belongings in the main vault and retrieve them whenever you need to use them.”

  Vault! Yes! Surely the most likely place a gold lamp would be!

  Unconcerned with our discussion about valuables when she clearly had none, Cora climbed into her now-grass-green bed and drew her lemon-yellow canopy closed. The redheaded girl had unbound her knee-long hair and was too busy brushing the tangles out with a curved, mother-of-pearl comb to notice us. Cherine, already in her rosy nightgown and matching robe, picked up a small mahogany box and skipped over to us. “I’m coming too.”

  At that, Fairuza took out her earrings and necklace, stuck them in a pouch of gold coins and shoved it in her aunt’s hands. “On second thought, I trust you to keep it safe for me. I need to rest so I can be at my best tomorrow.”

  Loujaïne watched Fairuza walk off and hold her arms out to be undressed by her handmaidens, looking like something sour had exploded on her tongue. “Does anyone else wish to burden me with her trinkets?”

  Just to rub in that mood, I bowed and pretended to be clueless. “No, Your Highness, I wouldn’t think of saddling you like a beast of burden. It’s enough that you’re agreeing to this. I don’t know what I would do if my late mother’s gold was stolen.”

  The first hint of emotion showed in Loujaïne’s voice, a slight yielding of sympathy. “Your mother died?”

  Bitter sadness oozed into my chest and burned the back of my throat as my mother’s face flashed behind my eyelids. Or what I remembered of it. Mostly her long, dark hair, her dimpled cheeks and her big, bright smile. Yet somehow, her remembered image felt clearer than it had been for years.

  I wished any of
these jewels did belong to her, that I genuinely cared about losing them, in fear of losing what remained of her. But my concern was as false as my current persona.

  “Yes,” I said quietly, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. “She passed a little over five years ago.”

  Loujaïne’s eyes softened a little. “What was her name?”

  “Dorreya.”

  Briefly, her brows twitched as recognition flashed across her eyes, as if my mother’s name reminded her of something that bothered her.

  She seemed to shake whatever unpleasant memory it had brought forth off and finally nodded understandingly. “Come with me then. We all deserve our peace of mind when it comes to our departed.”

  I thanked her, relieved that this had worked out, but surprised that someone as powerful and seemingly as harsh as her was this agreeable. I still felt guilty for using my mother’s death like that. I shook my head, shaking with it my newly long hair, reminding myself that this was all to prevent the Fairborns’ deaths.

  Cherine tailed us out, her short legs needing to drum up a jog to keep up with our strides.

  The rest of the floor was significantly darker, with fewer windows and sconces lighting the halls. The doors of the other contestants’ rooms were firmly closed and manned by unmoving guards. In the dim light, I mistook a few for statues until I heard them breathing.

  I felt eyes on me in each place we passed through, even where there was no one. I made a mental note of which spots were unguarded as we descended into a darker part of the ground floor, then further down, heading to the basement.

  Torches fastened to metal brackets lit the way down, their flickering, fiery light on the stone of the walls and steps shedding shadows that danced with ours. They offered little clarity and no heat and a whole lot of creepy, gooseflesh-raising atmosphere as we descended deeper into the bowels of the palace.

  Cherine, clearly immune to the effects of our eerie surroundings, finally reached her limit of being silent. “Now that we’re alone, can you tell me why Cyaxares isn’t personally meeting the girls he picked? Why did he call all of us all the way here anyway? He doesn’t have the ‘lack of prospective brides’ excuse other princes and kings had. What’s going on?”

  “Ever the nosy one, aren’t you?” Loujaïne sighed.

  “Well?” Cherine pressed on.

  Loujaïne waved her away. “Ask him yourself if you’re that impatient.”

  “I’d need to find him first to do that.”

  Loujaïne clucked her tongue. “Good luck with that. He’s been hard to spot lately.”

  “How is that possible? He’s the crown prince.”

  “Oh, we know he’s around, just not where.”

  “How?” Cherine latched onto the crook of her arm, startling her stiff. “How is he getting away with all of this? He’s not even king yet. Why don’t you tell him where to be, what to do, who to choose and who to marry like every other —”

  “If you were wondering why you weren’t his first choice,” Loujaïne cut her off, ripping her arm free. “There’s your answer.”

  I held back a chuckle. Cherine’s overzealous nature, while not enough to be a deal-breaker in princess requirements, was evidently a bit much for everyone, not just me.

  In Cherine’s brief, stunned silence, I heard something scurry in the darkness. I couldn’t pinpoint what or where. It worryingly reminded me of my first venture into the Hornswoods with Bonnie, where the eyes I now knew as Nariman’s had scared me witless.

  “Did you hear that?” I whispered.

  Cherine, who’d already resumed pestering the princess, turned to me. It was so dark now I could barely see her. “Hear what?”

  The sound of shuffling boots on gravel seemed to skid past me again. I spun around, right in the direction of the sound and found nothing but a stretch of dimness going all the way up to the lit doorway and the steps we descended to get here.

  Cherine tugged on my skirt, looking a bit spooked. “There’s no one here, Ada.”

  “But you did hear that, right?”

  While I could barely see her, I could hear the dismissive eye roll in her voice. “No one comes down here, so it’s just us.”

  “There are guards outside our bedrooms but not outside the palace vault?” I scoffed, though that was good news to me.

  “Yes, because when we lock something in a vault there’s no risk of it going out and doing something stupid,” Loujaïne said pointedly, taking a torch off the wall to light her way down a much-darker section.

  After numerous close calls, I finally tripped over my own skirt when a breathing sound passed over me. In a shocked jerk, I stepped on it so hard it nearly ripped. I careened off balance, crashed into Cherine and tossed us both down a few steps.

  As she rose indignantly to her feet, I patted around in the darkness for the things I’d dropped. “There’s something here!”

  Loujaïne turned, looking up at us, her torch casting some light our way so I could pick up my rings and bracelets. “Scorpions, centipedes, a bat or two. Things that like to hide in the dark must be here. This is a mountain after all.”

  Everything she mentioned was preferable to that creepy, heavy breathing I’d heard. Certainly, none of those things would breathe this way. But like the shuffling earlier, I couldn’t point to where it was coming from. Or was it just some strange echoing property of this place?

  But why couldn’t they hear it, too? Was I losing my mind? Or maybe I’d long lost it.

  At the bottom of the stairs, a crack of faint light appeared.

  Loujaïne dropped her torch with a gasp. “The vault! It’s open!”

  The princess and Cherine rushed the last steps leading to the vault. Before they reached the door Cherine was the one to stumble this time, taking the princess down with her. As they landed in a heap on the ground, the door cracked further open and something huge slipped out past them, too fast to see in the dimness.

  I scrambled for the fallen torch, picking it up and swinging it around as I rose up on my knee. In the arcing flash of firelight, I saw the sources of the shuffling and wet breathing.

  The first face was defined and bright-eyed, with a wide jaw and full lips accented by an expression of open-mouthed shock.

  The second face…the second…

  I could see its every vein mapping its severely sharp bone structure, shadowed by the long white hair scattered around it. And out of its ashen paleness, red eyes stared back at me.

  A demon!

  Chapter Eight

  My scream as I’d dropped the torch and shot down past the demon and into the vault still reverberated in my ears.

  I didn’t know how long I ran inside the vault before I skidded over a pile of gold coins on the floor. I flew up in the air and fell with a clinking thud flat on my back.

  Panting, my heart shaking me apart, I latched onto the first steady thing I found—a statue—and dragged myself up by its support. Then I scampered on my hands and knees and hid behind it, expecting to find the red-eyed demon chasing me.

  I found nothing, and not because I couldn’t see. There was ambient lighting coming from everywhere illuminating what I could see of the vault around me. I waited, breath bated, but everything remained still and silent.

  Maybe it had been my recently activated imagination going haywire? And who could blame it after what I’d been through?

  I heard the princess and Cherine’s voices coming from the now faraway entrance. They didn’t sound alarmed, and seemed to be continuing their bickering. That was more evidence supporting that I’d imagined it all. At least, I hoped I had.

  But since I didn’t seem to be in any danger, I had to make use of the time I had alone inside the vault. I had to find the lamp!

  I stood tall on my knees, looking around. And my heart sank.

  The massive stone room was covered in heaps and hills of haphazard treasure. Statues ranging from bejeweled idols to ten-foot-tall kings towered over the messy, shiny mounds, with ge
ms for eyes and gilded cloaks. Open wooden chests pouring jewelry and silverware crowded around the statues’ platforms. And in between, all over, unsteady piles of coins and bags of broken shards of gold with TO MELT DOWN stamped on them littered the floor.

  Since Bonnie’s books had turned out to tell of a world that actually existed, I bet somewhere out there a pirate ship must be avidly following a map that marked this place with an X. Or a dragon was about to move in so it could bed down and nap.

  Searching for one measly lamp among the mountains of glittering clutter would be like trying to pick a single wheat grain from a bag of brown rice. But I had to try, and fast, before the others caught up with me. The faster I found it, the sooner I could get out of here and save the Fairborns.

  Kicking all coins away from underfoot so I wouldn’t slip again, I grabbed the statue to drag myself up. As soon as I was back on my feet, I released the cold arm, a shiver creeping down my spine. It was a bronze sculpture of a young woman with round eyes that drooped at the edges, big cheeks and wavy hair with her arms held out, hands turned up. Her accessories were not part of the sculpture, but real, removable. Among them was a rose-gold headband encircled by conical spikes in different sizes, like the crowning halo of a sun god.

  I circled it and began a frenzied search for the lamp. As I did, I found myself stashing coins, pearl rings, jingling bracelets and even a palm-sized opal in my bra. I didn’t know what I was going to do with all these things in my current situation. I just knew that I needed to have them, to take them before they left my sight. I’d nearly starved and frozen enough times to learn not to pass up opportunities, no matter how perilous. I also wasn’t going to come in contact with things this precious ever again. But I found nothing even resembling a lamp.

  I was bending down to rummage through an overflowing chest when I spotted a lit incense bowl across from me at the feet of the statue I had steadied myself on. I found myself walking back to it, mesmerized by the glow of flickering embers among still-warm ashes. Beneath it, carved on a plaque at the front of the platform she stood on was: JUMANA MORVARID c. 532 - 552.