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
There were mystics scattered all over the room. At the edge of one table sat Edhir. Without his heavy robe, hunched over a scroll unfurled to its full length, Edhir looked younger than ever. The hands holding the scroll were gloved. As they approached him, he raised his head and gave Amun an uneasy look. For Mehr, he managed a smile.
“Emperor’s grace upon you this fine morning,” he said to her. His gaze slid nervously to Amun. “And you,” he added.
Mehr looked at Amun along with him. His face was as hard and cold as a thing carved from rock. His eyes were dark hollows, with none of the softness in them that Mehr had somehow grown to expect. She looked away quickly. If she hadn’t experienced his gentleness earlier and seen that smile tug the corners of his mouth, she never would have believed he was anything but the cold brute he appeared to be in that moment.
“Emperor’s grace upon you also,” she said to Edhir. He gave her a grateful look as she stepped between. “What is this?” she asked, pointing at the scroll in front of him.
“A map of the Empire,” he said.
“How beautiful,” Mehr breathed. It was highly detailed, colored in lush blues and golds, marking the Empire from Irinah to Ambha and beyond. Even lands beyond its borders were inked in. She had never seen such a fine piece of work before—certainly no map as vast and detailed as this one.
“She needs to be prepared for the next storm,” Amun said abruptly, breaking Mehr’s focus. “The Maha said it will be upon us soon.”
Mehr did not think she’d ever heard Amun speak directly to Edhir. It startled her. She wasn’t alone in that. Edhir’s eyes were wide. The other mystics were watching, some covertly, some not so covertly.
“Yes,” Edhir said, after a moment’s hesitation. “It will be.”
“When?”
Mehr wanted to wince at Amun’s behavior. If this was how he talked to the mystics, then it was probably wise that he was so often silent. He showed Edhir none of the ease or careful gentleness he so often showed her. Instead he spoke abrasively, his voice unashamedly cold and unfeeling.