For two days they followed the same pattern of snatched food and knee-aching prayers and careful breathing that was supposed to lead Mehr away from her own skin and failed to lead her anywhere but to frustration. Her only respite on both evenings was the presence of Hema and the other women, who sat with her and shared their food and their laughter.

Mehr told herself that spending time with the women was a pragmatic decision. Hema and her women did not have seniority within the temple, but they possessed a different kind of power. Working in the kitchens meant they controlled all the food and water in the temple. If Mehr ever hoped to escape—and she did hope, despite what her good sense told her—she would need to be able to visit the kitchens without causing concern.

Spending time with them also gave her information that Amun had not thought to share with her. By listening to their conversations, she learned about the courier mystics who traveled between the provinces of the Empire and the temple, bringing food supplies and messages from other mystics and the Emperor himself to the Maha.

“How do the couriers navigate the desert?” Mehr asked. She broke apart her flatbread into manageable pieces as she spoke, keeping her tone casual. “The desert is so vast,” she said. “I can’t imagine how anyone could find their way through it.”

“They use the stars,” said Rena, no suspicion in her face or her voice. “But there are trade routes too. They use those to visit the villages.”

Mehr was sure Kalini and the others hadn’t brought her to the temple via a trade route. They’d traveled over unmarked desert, and kept their distance from villages. Mehr doubted her ability to navigate by the stars, but she stood a chance of understanding trade routes, and navigating using individual villages as signposts.

She would need to find a way to visit the scholars—and their maps—again without arousing suspicion.

It was her third evening in the company of the women when Mehr finally agreed to visit them in their shared room by the oasis. They had been offering, subtly and not so subtly, since the first time they had met her. Mehr couldn’t refuse any longer without showing outright rudeness.

She had so many reasons why her choice was a sound one. She rehearsed them over and over again in her head as she and Amun practiced in the hall and then returned to his room. If he attempted to argue with her, if he called her foolish, she would be more than able to argue with him. But Amun didn’t argue. As she drew her shawl around her shoulders, as she turned to leave the room, he said only, “Be careful.”

“You’re not going to try to stop me?” she asked.

“Could I?” he asked. He shook his head. “No, Mehr. Do as you will.”