Beyond the Black Door

by A. M. Strickland

  It was him, behind the shroud. Ciari had told him I was here, and now he had found me.

  Razim.

  10

  PETTY SECRETS

  That Razim had arrived so quickly meant he was living in Shalain now too, and that he was likely looking for me. Perhaps he had even asked Ciari to keep an eye out, since she was a mutual acquaintance in the Twilight Guild and knew my face.

  My plan had been a stupid one.

  Ciari, to be fair, probably had no idea Razim, my supposed stepbrother, was the last person I wanted to find me.

  Everyone was about their own business around us, bustling by too quickly to notice anything strange. His skin was hot against mine, his chest rising rapidly as if he’d run to get here.

  I would scream if I had to, but I knew how quickly he could cover my mouth and haul me away. I had to stall him, but already he began pulling me toward the alley alongside the wine shop, likely where a horse was waiting.

  “Let me go,” I rasped, trying to jerk my hand away, my slippers skidding over the rough cobbles.

  He held tight, his tug insistent. “No, you’re coming with me.”

  “Is that so?” said a hard voice nearby. Nikha, a dagger in her hand. “Thought I would fall for that, did you? That a small coin purse would be worth dropping my guard?” She’d obviously only circled around the fish market and come up behind us. The dagger now threatened those dark eyes I knew so well. “Now how about you tell me what you want with her, and this will be less painful.”

  Razim let me go and, at the same moment, muttered to me, “Get back.”

  He didn’t need to tell me twice, and I stumbled away. Before I could figure out why he was warning me, he was moving, lightning fast, ducking Nikha’s darting blade and drawing his sword in the same fluid motion—one that might have gutted me had I been closer. In a scuff of boots on stone, Nikha’s dagger was now in her left hand, her own sword out and in her right, only half a second after his.

  They stood, facing each other, blades perfectly still and glinting in the sunlight, while people jumped back with cries of alarm.

  “A woman, huh?” Razim said.

  “A dead man, huh? Besides, you’re the one wearing the scarf.” Nikha’s grin didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t want anyone to see your face?”

  And then she lunged. Razim danced back, parrying, but barely in time. His eyes widened in surprise at her skill but immediately narrowed in focus as she got past his guard and almost skewered him a second time.

  I’d seen Razim train at the villa. He’d had a private tutor, a sword master, giving him lessons every other day. But Nikha trained twice as often. And if Razim was stronger, she was better.

  The fight was as ferocious as the burning sun, their blades gleaming and licking at each other. Razim kept trying to circle my way, but Nikha kept beating him back with her sword, her dagger nipping at him. So he circled the other way until he reached one of the street vendor’s fish grills, kicked it over, and flicked burning coals at Nikha with a sweep of his sword. She couldn’t help flinching, and Razim lunged.

  Nikha pivoted fast enough to dodge his blow, but still I screeched, “Don’t!”

  Razim paused at the frantic sound of my voice, long enough to nearly lose his head, but he threw himself onto his back, rolling to his feet a moment later.

  A shout rose from the nearby street. Soldiers were coming. Nikha didn’t turn to look or take her eyes off her target. Razim, however, turned—away from the commotion. He ran, with only one backward glance at me. His eyes were like coals themselves, burning right through me.

  Nikha didn’t chase him—she left that to the soldiers, after she hurriedly explained and pointed them in the right direction. Then she dragged me against the wall of the wine shop, into shade and relative safety, her back to me, sword still raised in my defense.

  “Who,” she said, panting over her shoulder, “was that?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  In a way, I truly didn’t. What had he wanted with me? Why had he directed me out of harm’s way, after he’d tried to abduct me? And he’d listened to me when I told him to stop.

  It didn’t mean I wanted to kill him any less. I would just have more questions for him beforehand.

  Despite my efforts, I still only ever had questions, and never the answers.

  I sagged against the wall. The experience felt like old wounds being reopened. But none of that compared to the shame of putting Nikha in so much danger. I felt gutted as I stared at her strong, heaving shoulders.

  She could have been killed. Defending me. In a situation I had arranged by lying to her.

  “And why,” she said, sounding angrier, “didn’t you break his grip? You know how to get out of a hold like that—I taught you!”

  Heat rose to my cheeks, because she was right, on top of everything. Not only had she drilled me on self-defense, my mother had taught me basics before her. I should have put up more of a fight, but I’d been so surprised to see Razim that I’d frozen.

  “Oh gods, Nikha, I’m so sorry,” I gasped, holding my stomach, tears stinging my eyes. I felt like vomiting.

  “It’s okay,” she said, softer now. She was still on her guard, not facing me. “None of this is your fault, but I know that you know how to play your hand better than that.” I caught her reference to Gods and Kings—what had led her to start teaching me self-defense in the first place. So much for my “martial mind-set.”

  “You can’t hold me to your standard. You’re really good.” Somehow I managed to hurl the compliment like an insult, and it made us both choke on a laugh, probably from nerves. “Seriously. You should be a royal bodyguard, not here with me.”

  “Good thing I was here,” she said, not letting me off so easily. “It’s not like you to hesitate. You’re sure you don’t recognize him from somewhere?”

  Even if it felt like shame was devouring me from the inside out, I still had to lie. Or else she would never relax around me again. I would never be free enough to hunt for my answers, at least not in the waking world. “No,” I said. “I only saw his eyes. He just said I looked like a rich girl. He must have wanted to kidnap me, ransom me, or—”

  “Or worse.” Nikha spat on the stones beneath her feet and finally turned to me, sheathing her sword. “A pity I couldn’t kill the bastard. But at least you’re safe. Do you want to fetch your wine before we go?”

  “No,” I said quickly. The less contact with Ciari, the better. She would want to know why I hadn’t gone with Razim. “I’m not in the mood for it anymore. Besides, you didn’t get my purse back,” I added, in an attempt to tease her.

  She arched an eyebrow at me but smiled. “I’m glad I didn’t. Let’s get you home, then.”

  I caught her arm as she moved toward the street. “Nikha, please don’t tell Jidras about this.”

  Her forehead creased. “Why not?”

  “Because he’ll never let me leave the house again!”

  Nikha grimaced. “I don’t know if you should,” she said. “At least not like this. Not until you’ve trained with me more.”

  “But I come of age in a week!” I cried. “Even as an adult, am I supposed to leave only to go to an apprenticeship, or palace functions, or a temple, only seeing the inside of a carriage in between?”

  Nikha sighed, running a hand through her hair, making it even spikier. “I don’t know, Kamai, but you have to admit, this was strange. I’m still not convinced he didn’t know who you were, and he was particularly well trained—not your average cutpurse. If I hadn’t been suspicious of the whole situation…” The unspoken words were And you were no help. “This isn’t safe.”

  No, it wasn’t. And Nikha had been in the most danger, yet all she cared about was me.

  Tears threatened my eyes again. “I’m sorry, Nikha. I promise not to leave the house without you, if I leave at all, to have as much protection as you think I need, and to train with you as much as you wish, but please, please don’t te
ll Jidras.” If he grew suspicious that my past life was trying to catch up to me, he might lock me away forever. Even if all I had to look forward to was a life indoors after my eighteenth birthday, at least the walls would change. And better Nikha’s overbearing protectiveness than Jidras’s.

  She stared at me for a long time. “You promise? You swear to me that you’ll let me guard you as necessary, and you’ll practice even more with me?”

  “I swear,” I said, even as my stomach sank. “You have my word.”

  And she did. So much for a new course of action. But even I had to admit, after seeing Razim, that my plan hadn’t been the wisest. What if he told the Twilight Guild he’d seen me? I still had a hard time believing they didn’t know where I was, but now they definitely had a trail to follow. And Nikha wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. They could easily find out who employed her.

  Or they could just follow us home now. Nikha seemed to have the same thought, glancing at rooftops and down alleys, eyes darting warily. But we made it to the carriage without incident. And without catching sight of anyone else watching.

  But I couldn’t shake the image of Razim’s fierce, dark eyes from my mind. For the next few days, at least, they distracted me from another pair—one that didn’t exist in the waking world.

  My birthday actually fell on the date I was scheduled to visit Vehyn, and I wondered if he’d somehow planned it that way. I didn’t know if the thought made me apprehensive or secretly thrilled. In any case, I tried not to count down the hours.

  * * *

  As the night of my eighteenth birthday approached, I wondered what Vehyn had planned. I couldn’t believe I’d known him for almost a month and a half. Known of him, at least. I doubted I would ever really know who, or what, he was, especially at the rate he was doling out information.

  The day I became a legal adult had a night that held a new moon. It was either fitting or ominous: a new beginning, but one shrouded in darkness. And rain. My birthday frequently marked the beginning of the wet season, and rain pounded the pale stone of the city outside, drenching everything in heavy gray shadow.

  I almost expected to receive an appointment at an accounting firm as a present from Jidras, or maybe a carriage ride to a temple of Heshara to test as a priestess. No matter how much he or my tutor had pushed, I hadn’t given either of them a clear answer on what I wanted to do with myself. Maybe because I didn’t know, and they’d granted me less than six weeks to decide the course of the rest of my life.

  Or maybe because what I truly wanted, they couldn’t give me: Answers. Retribution. Only Vehyn could give me that.

  The ribbon-wrapped boxes that Jidras’s servants passed to me ended up containing half a dozen luxurious new dresses.

  “Such that a woman would wear,” Jidras said without meeting my eyes, staring at his folded hands. He sat in his armchair in the parlor, while I sat on a divan, opening my presents with Nikha and several servants looking on. I was about to thank him. The gowns were a much less torturous present than I’d been expecting, even if most of the colors were a touch bright for my taste. “Or a wife,” he added, and the words froze in my mouth.

  A wife? What sort of wife could I be to anyone? I simply couldn’t imagine it. I had no desire to run a household, to have children, or to even participate in the act that led to children.

  Perhaps he was only letting me know that he didn’t mind the possibility, if I wished to find someone suitable. I let the remark slide without comment, hoping both he and I would forget that he’d mentioned it.

  But I couldn’t forget.

  Nikha gave me a beautiful dagger that I could wear at my hip if I ever found myself outside again. It was a less discreet version of the pocketknife I still carried between my breasts—in the waking world, at least, since Vehyn had taken it in the sleeping realm—the gift my mother had given me on my birthday eight years ago. Oddly, it was a more hopeful present than Jidras’s, despite the potential danger it implied. Better a fight than marriage.

  * * *

  That night, the black door opened into a parlor that was a dark mockery of the bright one I’d sat in earlier with Jidras, the floating lamps making a red-and-indigo-striped pattern on the black walls and furniture. Vehyn was facing away from me when I entered, standing perfectly still and silent. I drew up short at the eerie sight of him, but then he turned.

  “What has upset you?” he asked. He always seemed to know when I was distraught, even when I tried to hide it. I found his youthful face and old eyes both oddly comforting and unsettling, and as beautiful as always.

  I sighed, half wanting to vent over what Jidras had said and half wanting to never speak of it. “Now that I’m a woman grown, Jidras mentioned the possibility of my becoming a wife.” I didn’t mention the trip to the market, which was still weighing heavily on my mind. It was too shameful, how badly it had gone. And I didn’t want him to know how much more I needed his answers now.

  “And you didn’t appreciate the idea of marriage.”

  “No.”

  He was suddenly in front of me, in that sinuous, instantaneous way he had of moving sometimes. He leaned forward and brushed my cheek with a cool kiss. It was the first time he’d done such a thing, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t a good or bad feeling. It was the jolt of taking a step and missing it—something startling, a little exhilarating, and potentially dangerous.

  “That is a lovely dress,” he said.

  I glanced down to remember what I was wearing. I’d arrived in the sleeping realm in one of my new gowns—a lacy midnight-blue creation with a plunging neckline and sleeves like spiderwebs. The darkest of the lot.

  The corner of his mouth—of which I was oddly aware, after his kiss—twitched in a half smile. “I prefer black, of course, but the color suits you.”

  I’d never seen Vehyn appear in anything but his strange black robe with its copper belt and his gold-and-silver-cuffed arms.

  “It’s not my favorite,” I said in a dismissive tone. Secretly, I was pleased. He often complimented me, though more and more, I’d been sensing something … hungry … in his dark eyes. When he looked at me like that, I had to admit it wasn’t altogether unpleasant, like his kiss.

  But I was an idiot. I was playing with fire, and I knew it. This wasn’t anything beyond a strange fascination for me, a curiosity that never, ever ended in the same place as the other person was imagining. Vehyn caused my body to react in ways that no one else had, but even those sensations didn’t lead to a desire to end up naked together, let alone doing anything.

  And yet, was that what Vehyn was imagining? Did he even experience desire in the same way others did? I found the idea of him wanting me, even if I didn’t want him, perversely intriguing.

  You’re doubly an idiot, playing with fire twice over. He’s not human, I hissed at myself. You don’t even know if he’s dangerous. No, you do know he’s dangerous. What you don’t know is if he’s deadly.

  The thought was almost too frightening to contemplate. His hunger, for all I understood it, might be much too literal.

  He abruptly turned away. “Come, I have a present for you.”

  I couldn’t help looking around, as if some strange, new gift or unearthly vista was about to be revealed.

  “Nothing like that,” he said, back to watching my face closely. I reminded myself—again—to be more guarded. He could guess what I was thinking too easily. “Here.”

  With a gesture, a blue door appeared.

  It was a shockingly familiar shade of blue, nearly the color of Jidras’s front door in the waking world. Except this one wasn’t gilt-framed, but lined with white-painted wood that was flaking. It looked like the entrance to a child’s room. An old room, one that hadn’t been used in ages.

  “What is this?” I asked, apprehension roiling in my stomach.

  “You wanted secrets. This isn’t everything you want by any means—only petty secrets—but it’s something.”

  Vehyn was ma
king no move for the door, so I stepped forward and touched its brass knob, which was another strange, tarnished reflection of the gold-plated one in the waking world. “This isn’t quite what I was expecting. I was picturing something rather more romantic.”

  I wasn’t sure why I said it. Of course I wanted secrets, more than anything, but he’d already admitted they were petty. And yet romance might not be what I wanted, either. I didn’t know what I wanted, only that I most assuredly didn’t want what romance usually led to. Vehyn, for his part, blinked at me in mild surprise.

  I opened the door before I could regret my words or confuse us both further. The room beyond was coated in the same flaking blue paint. The floors were scuffed wood that needed both a dusting and a refinishing. There was a white dresser and a brass bed without blankets, both child-size. But as soon as I stepped inside, I understood what this was.

  “This is Jidras’s nehym.” I knew without a doubt, just by the feel. Vehyn didn’t bother confirming it. “How…?”

  I’d thought I had to be near someone to gain access to their sleeping soul. What was this? Did Vehyn have some power I didn’t know, to call forth other souls at his command?

  “I want to teach you something,” he said, without answering my unfinished question. “Open one of those drawers.” He nodded toward the dresser, and I stepped carefully up to it, unavoidably making tracks in the dust.

  “I don’t want to disturb anything,” I said, my voice smaller than I expected. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “You won’t.” Vehyn’s tone was softer, gentler than usual, and it made me want to trust him. He hadn’t left the doorway, or even set a toe inside the room. He was a dark shadow against the black fortress behind him, framed by flaking white, his pale face like sheet music in a gloomy parlor, shaded and inscrutable.