"Just what?"
He sighed. "I hope he gets enough for you. He took a big risk with all of this." He bit his lip and leaned forward before continuing. "But I also hope he fails. You deserve more than this. They all do. All the slaves."
She studied him for a long moment. "Why do you do it, Barkley? You're different from the others. So why do this?"
He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. "It's my only option."
"That can't be true. We've passed so many people coming here. I can't believe you couldn't do what those people do."
"It isn't that simple, K'lrsa. What I am…It's not welcome. Anywhere. I have to keep moving so no one knows."
"What you are?" She stared at him, confused.
He shook his head. "Forget it. It doesn't matter." He leaned forward. "Tell me something. Why didn't you run when you could've? All those days we crossed the desert, that last night outside of Crossroads. Why didn't you run?"
"Because I need to reach the Daliph, so I can kill him." She knew she should keep the secret to herself, but she was tired and scared and needed someone to talk to. She no longer had her gods or her moon stone or even Lodie.
Barkley blinked slowly. "You want to kill the Daliph?"
"Yes."
"The Daliph? The grand leader of every single man, woman, and child that we've passed on our way here?"
"Yes."
He laughed. "Impossible."
"No, it isn't. I'm going to do it." She glared at him.
Barkley stared at her for a long moment and then shrugged. "Well, you wouldn't be the first."
"What do you mean?" She leaned forward.
"The old Daliph was killed by one of his servants two years ago."
"Really? How?"
"Poisoned." Barkley took a coin from his pocket and handed it to her. It was flat and square, made of a heavy metal she'd never seen before. On one side the number five was stamped. On the other was a man's face, the eyes and jaw heavy, skin sagging. He looked like a giant bullfrog, but the eyes were those of a desert cat. The image was somehow revolting and compelling at once. She shivered as she studied it.
Barkley nodded at the coin. "That's him. Heard his grandson is Daliph now."
Finally, she knew what her enemy looked like. Younger than the man on the coin, of course, but likely equally as vile.
She handed the coin back to Barkley. "If someone was able to get close enough to poison him, I can get close enough to the grandson to kill him." She'd never thought of poison before, but if a direct attack was impossible, it might be an option.
Barkley smirked. He picked the boot back up and started to polish it once more. "Only took her twenty-five years."
"Twenty-five years?" K'lrsa's throat clenched. That long? Could she hold out for that long if that's what it took?
He smiled. "Yep. So the story goes. Worked her way up the ranks to be his taster—the one who checks his food for poison. And then she poisoned herself at a great feast so she could poison him, too. Hundreds witnessed them choking to death side by side. Good riddance." He took a long swig from a flagon of beer. "Too bad it didn't happen about twenty years earlier."
"Why do you say that?"
He scratched at a spot on the table. "The old Daliph he, uh…he took my aunt. She was a young mother, with two little girls. He didn't care. He came through town, saw her, wanted her, and took her. We never saw her again."
He finished off the beer and stood. "Of course, most people love him. He brought the Toreem Daliphate out of the gutter when he established those trade routes with the tribes. Now it's someone else's turn to provide slaves for the rest of the Daliphana."
"What about the current Daliph?"
"I don't know. This is the first time we've gone past Crossroads since the assassination." He stared into the bottom of his empty flagon. "You really want to kill him?"
"Yes."
He nodded, scrunching his lips up as he thought about it. "Alright. I can't make any promises, but let me see what I can do to get you to Toreem."
Before she could say anything further, he left, closing the door firmly behind him.
She stared at the door for a long time after he'd left, trying not to feel hope. She'd come so far, telling herself every day that it would happen, that she'd find a way to keep her vow. But secretly she'd wondered if she could do it. If she'd ever even have the chance to kill him, let alone succeed if she did.
She'd spent the last week wondering if she'd sacrificed everything—the man of her dreams, her mother, her sister, Fallion—for nothing.
But now, thanks to Barkley, she felt a small twinge of hope.
Maybe, just maybe, she would have her chance.
Chapter 42
The road they followed throughout the next day slowly climbed until they reached the top of a ridge to gaze down upon Boradol where it spread across the plain below them. The buildings were all made of dun-colored stone that blended in with the barren fields behind the city, the only spots of color the elaborately tiled roofs of each building. They shone in the late day sunlight—the blues, reds, and yellows mingling and clashing together.
At the far edge of the plain, barely visible, another city rose, jagged mountains loomed behind it.
"That's Toreem." Barkley nodded at the distant city. "It's one of the most secure cities in all of the Daliphana. The mountains are almost impenetrable and the ground for half a day's ride on all sides is kept clear so they can see any threat long before it arrives."
K'lrsa frowned. "How do they eat?"
Barkley laughed. "You and food, princess."
"If you'd ever lived in the desert, you'd understand. Water is essential—without it you die almost immediately. But food, food is what you spend most of your time and energy finding."
He nodded. "They have enough food stored at any point in time to feed the residents of the city for at least three months. Not that anyone wants to eat the food they have stored, of course. That's all dried meats and grains. No. Traders flow in and out of Toreem every day bringing delicacies from all over the world. There's a greater variety of food available in Toreem than anywhere else in the Daliphate."
"How do you know this?"
"That's where I grew up. My father was stone mason for the old Daliph." Before she could ask more, he urged his horse forward to ride next to Harley.
As she followed after, K'lrsa studied the mountains that now loomed on the far side of the valley, covering half the sky. They'd always stood there on the horizon, a distant smudge on the background of her life, but now, as the sun set, they cast a shadow halfway across the valley as if reaching for her.
She shivered as she watched the shadow come closer and closer.
"Princess." Harley waved her forward and K'lrsa joined him, fingering the cold stone he'd bought her to replace the moon stone she'd given Lodie. (Like anyone who knew the tribes would be fooled by the lifeless lump hanging from a plain brown cord.)
"What do you think of your new home?" Harley waved his hand through the air like a street entertainer introducing a new trick.
She glanced at Barkley, but he was staring straight ahead, ignoring them. "It's very nice?"
Harley laughed. "Not like you'll be seeing much of it once I get you sold off to the Exquisite Garden."
"The Exquisite Garden?" K'lrsa swayed in her saddle, feeling faint. So Barkley hadn't been able to arrange anything.
"Yes, they specialize in providing something unique and different to a discerning clientele." He smiled at her, looking almost happy. The sight of Harley happy was so disconcerting she almost forgot that he was going to sell her to the highest bidder the next day.
She stared towards Toreem. Somehow she'd find a way to bridge that distance and get her revenge.
That night, K'lrsa paced her small room, unable to sleep. Barkley had sent a letter to a friend, telling him Harley had a young, beautiful, and exotic desert warrior for sale.
It was the best he could do.
At least if Barkley's friend bought her she'd be in Toreem instead of Boradol.
And one step closer was one step closer.
But Barkley hadn't heard back yet, and it was possible he never would.
She couldn't bear the thought of being sold off like nothing more than a pretty necklace or fine horse.
She had to escape. She didn’t know where she'd go—a woman alone in the streets would draw all eyes, and the only clothing she had was the ridiculous get-up Harley thought made her a desert princess (he'd burned her Rider's clothing after the little incident with Mistress Hawthorne)—but she couldn't sit in her room and wait for life to happen to her.
She had to act. Now. Before it was too late.
She wrenched open the door to her room and found Reginald seated in a chair, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, smokeweed stuck in his teeth as he leered at her. "Going somewhere, Princess?"
She wondered briefly if she could kill him, but decided against it. He was smaller than her, but he had a wiry speed that belied his normal casual slouch and a viciousness that would be deadly in a fight.
He settled his chair on the floor and leaned towards her. "You know, the Exquisite Garden is a little steep for the likes of me, but I'm thinking I might just splurge this once. Not every day a man can have himself a princess." He winked at her. "Whatdya think? I could be your first customer."
He stood and swaggered towards her. "Hell, maybe we can get started tonight. Barkley's gonna be gone a while and…"
She wanted nothing more than to shatter the teeth in his mouth, forever destroying that sickly grin. Instead, she slammed the door in his face and blocked it with the heavy wooden bar attached to the frame.
K'lrsa sank down to the floor, her back pressed against the dark wood.
What had she thought she was going to do anyway?
She wouldn't leave without Fallion. And there was no way a lone woman was going to be able to just ride a horse out of the city and across the valley to Toreem. And not like she could sneak up to the Toreem city gates.
And even if she could do all of that, what then? Just walk up to the palace and demand an audience with the Daliph? Barkley said the man was always surrounded by at least ten guards—the fiercest, biggest, meanest men he could find.
It was impossible.
She stared around the little room and felt the walls closing in on her. There wasn't even a window—no chance for her to stare up at the sky and pretend she was anywhere other than a crowded, smelly city so far from the world she knew that she could barely remember what it had felt like to race across the plains, wind whipping through her hair.
She refused to sleep. She didn't want to dream. Not tonight.
She longed to lose herself once more in the Moon Dance with the beautiful young man with the blue eyes, but she couldn't. It was just a dream. One she could never have in real life.
She stripped out of her clothes, pushed the furniture out of the way, and seated herself cross-legged in the middle of the room.
She started the Pattern. With each breath and repeated phrase her awareness sank deeper, her muscles relaxed, the tension in her body flowed away. But each time she was on the verge of reaching the Core, of separating herself from the world and floating in that timeless twilight, she lost focus.
The Core slipped through her fingers like water, impossible to hold.
First it was thoughts of the young man—his blue eyes and golden skin calling to her. Then it was her father—his dying words echoing in her mind.
He'd made her swear she wouldn't avenge him.
Had he known how impossible it would be? How unwelcoming this world would be to someone like her?
Maybe it hadn't been a lack of faith in her, but a better understanding of what the world was like.
And yet she'd charged ahead, as foolish and headstrong as her mother had always believed her to be. She'd thought doing this would prove how wrong everyone was about her. Instead she'd proven them right.
She was a fool.
She gave up on finding the Core.
Peace eluded her, so she turned to violence.
She spent the rest of the night working her way through the hundred and five attacks, imagining with each kick or thrust of her hand that she was killing the Daliph, picturing his froggy eyes bulging in surprise as she killed him over and over again.
At last she collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 43
Her salvation came at breakfast. She was in the tiny anteroom, sharing a meal with Barkley, Reginald, and Harley when the messenger arrived—a young boy, dressed in the non-descript brown clothes everyone seemed to wear in Boradol.
He burst into the room, skin flushed from running up the stairs. "Master Harley?"
"Yes." Harley set aside his fork and knife.
"I've a message for you. From Toreem." The boy held a piece of paper out to Harley, his hand shaking.
Harley grunted, but he took the message. The boy continued to stand there until Barkley slipped him a small coin and sent him on his way.
They all sat in silence as Harley read the note and then read it again. He whooped in joy after the second reading, patting K'lrsa so hard on the back that she almost choked on her bite of food. "Well, see now, you were right Barkley. Letting her ride that horse and parading her along the road paid off. Word's spread as far as Toreem."
"Oh?" Barkley took another bite of sausage, appearing barely interested in the conversation.
"This letter is from the Gilded Lily. The owner's heard I have a beautiful, unique bed slave and wants to buy her from me sight unseen. He says he'll give me a hundred fifty golden hawlers for her!" He laughed. "Can you imagine, Barkley? Best we were going to get here was fifty."
Reginald grinned as he shoved a bite of eggs into his mouth, but Barkley set his silverware down carefully and looked across at Harley. "Are you sure it's worth it, Harley?"
K'lrsa tried to hide her surprise. Barkley had arranged this, hadn't he? What was he doing?
Harley pursed his lips. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"The old woman. Seems to me she wanted us to leave and never come back. She was quite explicit about the whole thing."
"Ah, she's probably dead by now the old hag. And even if she isn't, we'll get in and get out before she even knows we've been there. You'll see."
Barkley gave him a long stare, but eventually nodded. "If you say so."
"I do. Don't ruin my enjoyment of this moment, Barkley." Harley laughed again, happier than K'lrsa had ever seen him. "A hundred fifty golden hawlers." He shook his head, smiling. "We'll be able to pay our debts and still come out ahead."
K'lrsa stared at her plate, trying not to show her own excitement even though all she wanted was to dance around the room.
Harley ruffled her hair, the gesture so unexpected, K'lrsa couldn't help but gawp at him.
"And maybe after we've sold you off, little lady, I'll go back and make an honest woman of Mistress Hawthorne. Couldn'ta done it without her now, could we?" He winked.
K'lrsa didn't know what to say. How could he talk about selling her as a whore in the same breath he talked about marrying the woman he loved? Didn't he see how ridiculous that was?
But no. It seemed he didn't. Like all the men of the Daliphate, he couldn't see how hypocritical everything he did really was. Sheltering and protecting some women while abusing and demeaning others when the only difference was in how they dressed and where the man had met them.
So be it. She'd sworn to destroy the Daliphate and now she would and they could all take their foolish, backwards, hateful ways and choke on them for all she cared.
She was going to Toreem.
Chapter 44
As Harley, Reginald, Barkley, and K'lrsa rode toward Boradol, Harley whistled a charming little tune that K'lrsa imagined was great for dancing. He'd sold off the other slaves in the morning—at lower prices than he should've accord
ing to Barkley and Reginald, who'd both muttered their objections—and dismissed the remainder of the guards. Now it was just the four of them who rode towards Toreem.
Fast and quick. In and out, according to Harley. At least for the men.
As the day progressed, the city rose above them, its buildings climbing higher and higher into the sky until it seemed they would touch the clouds. And at the top, the largest building K'lrsa had ever seen, the Daliph's palace.
It dominated the skyline, stretching the entire length of the city. It stood at least six stories high. Every inch of the palace was decorated in bright colors—greens, reds, blues, yellows, oranges, black, white—all interwoven to form mesmerizing patterns on every surface.
The rest of the city was subdued in comparison, the same dun-colored stone buildings they'd seen in Boradol with roofs of one color each. Together they blended to complement the palace looming above, but individually they were dull and forgettable.
As they rode through the barren grassland outside the city, a giant wall became visible. It surrounded the city and held all the buildings close to the mountainside.
K'lrsa stopped her horse and stared. The Daliph was up there, somewhere, in that palace, surrounded by guards. But where?
She heard the sound of hooves thundering towards her and turned to see a black stallion charging towards them at full gallop, his rider pressed against his neck as they practically flew across the plain. The man's long black hair streamed behind him as he maneuvered his horse through a series of intricate forms. The two moved so perfectly together they might as well be one.
In the center of the horse's forehead was a white teardrop mark, just like Fallion's. It was an Amalanee horse, the only other one she'd ever seen.
She stared in awe as the man and horse approached.
Behind them, just visible in the distance, a woman in black rode a dark brown horse towards them, her shouts audible but unintelligible at this distance. She was clearly chasing after the man, but the distance between the two only grew as the man thundered down upon them. Even farther behind her, K'lrsa could just make out a larger group of riders, some in white, some in brown, all riding towards them.
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