Chapters (48)
- COVER
- COPYRIGHT
- DEDICATION
- MAP
- CHAPTER TWO
- LALITA
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- RAHIMA
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- KAMAL
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- LALITA
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- EXTRAS
- MEET THE AUTHOR
- INTERVIEW
- A PREVIEW OF REALM OF ASH
- A PREVIEW OF TORN
- ORBIT NEWSLETTER
She gestured at Mehr to stop, and showed her into a room with one high unshuttered window, open to the light. The floor was tiled, the air cool.
“I don’t have anything with me,” Mehr said. “My clothes. Kalini—”
Mehr turned, but it was too late. Kalini was gone.
Mehr gritted her teeth, holding back the curses she couldn’t allow to spill from her lips. Kalini wanted her to dress for the Maha? Well, that was a doomed project. Mehr had been wearing these clothes in sweltering heat for days on end. There was no way on earth that she could transform them into acceptable garb. The Maha would have to be disappointed.
Mehr undressed and folded her clothes in the corner of the room. Someone had clearly anticipated Mehr’s arrival, because a low basin of water had been prepared, with a pitcher and soap by its side. Mehr crouched down and took the pitcher in her hands. She skimmed it through the water, then raised it, pouring the liquid over her head. The water was shockingly, gloriously cool. She blinked it out of her eyes, watching dirt-clouded water pool around her knees.
She didn’t know how long she had, so she made a clumsy attempt at untangling her hair before giving the task up. She focused instead on scrubbing herself clean, sloughing away the grime of the journey. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed the tunic she’d worn beneath her robe and daubed the underarms with a little water and soap.
She heard a cough. She looked up, tunic still held in her hands. There was a woman at the door, a young woman with a bundle of clothes in her arms. She gave Mehr an embarrassed smile and held the bundle out. “Kalini sent me to bring you this,” she said.
Mehr took the bundle from her, her own tunic clutched loosely in front of her in a semblance of modesty.
“She told me to tell you not to cover your face,” said the woman. “He wouldn’t like that.” Another lopsided smile, and the woman dashed away. Mehr looked down at the bundle. A tunic, a sash, a pair of trousers. No shawl, no veil. She let out a long, slow breath and started getting dressed.