Mehr thought of the fragile trust that had built between them, stretched so thin now by the weight of the storm that was coming for them. She felt a pang. She pushed it away. She was far too prone to sentiment.

She met Hema at the foot of the stairs.

“Finally!” Hema called out at the sight of her. She turned on her heel, stopping once to make sure Mehr was following. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

“I was just delayed,” said Mehr.

There was a mystic standing guard at the entrance to the oasis that Hema led her to. When he saw Mehr his mouth thinned. But Hema was already tutting and shaking her head, a smile fixed on her pretty mouth.

“Come now, brother,” she said. “Is this how you treat family?”

“I haven’t said anything,” he protested.

“I can see it in your face,” Hema said. Although her words were challenging, her voice was playful. “You were going to stop us.”

“Not you. Just her.” He jerked his chin in Mehr’s direction.

“Oh, don’t be so cruel.” Hema put her hand on her hip. “The girl needs company.”

The man shook his head, his jaw set to an angle. Mehr saw the fingers on Hema’s hips curl. When she spoke again, her playful voice had an unexpected edge to it.

“You don’t trust me, brother?”

The man said nothing.

“If you don’t consider me trustworthy,” Hema continued, “perhaps you should go to Kalini and see what she says.”

Mehr looked between them, taking in the tilt of Hema’s head, the tight set of the man’s shoulders. It was soon clear that Hema was victor. The male mystic finally stepped out of the way. Hema gave Mehr a wink, then turned to lead her through the doorway into the outdoors.

“Kalini,” Mehr began haltingly.

“She’s my sister,” said Hema, not waiting for Mehr to finish. “By the Emperor’s grace, the Maha saved us both when we were children. Our parents died when we were small. We would have starved without his kindness.” They walked farther out into the moonlit night. “I know Kalini is … difficult. But she loves the Maha, and she loves me.”

Mehr thought difficult was somewhat of an understatement, but she nodded, and said nothing. Sometimes silence was wise.

They walked along the edge of the oasis under the moon’s glow. The ground was soft and even beneath her feet. The water smelled almost unbearably pure, sweet without being cloying. Mehr felt some of her frustration begin to ease. She’d missed the outdoors.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hema was gazing out at the water. “I was offered a room deeper in the temple, once. Near the kitchens where it would be warm at night. But I said no. I couldn’t give this up.”