“You’ve paid your debt,” said Mehr. She pressed a hand to the door. “Keep the blood close. It will protect you.”

She shoved the door open. Light poured in. Dust, glowing like slivers of candlelight, crept over the curve of her boots.

Sara stepped back. Mehr strode outside.

She was consumed instantly. The light moved around her wildly, whipping sand up from the earth to abrade her skin wherever it was exposed. She drew her hood hastily down over her face to keep the dust from getting into her eyes or her mouth. She couldn’t let herself be afraid. There was no going back now. Instead she steeled her resolve and started walking.

Mehr hugged close to the perimeter of the Governor’s residence, searching for the hint of a familiar path away from the palace toward the city streets. It was a more difficult task than she’d expected. She’d thought the dreamfire would light her way, but now that she was standing in the midst of it, she realized it was worse than darkness. She could barely see a few steps in front of her. Everything was light, and the light was blinding. If there were guards nearby—and there had to be guards—Mehr had no way of avoiding them. She had to trust that the fact that she was equally invisible to them would protect her. As long as she didn’t walk headfirst into a unit of men, she’d be safe.

It took her far longer than she would have liked, but eventually Mehr found her way to one of the long, deserted streets of the city proper. Near the Governor’s residence the houses belonged to the wealthy, and it showed. Here the light was thinner, and Mehr could see that the wide, paved streets were lined with large white havelis, mansions with courtyard gardens and ornately carved verandas. Mehr had been to Lalita’s home twice before, and both times she had traveled by palanquin through streets just like these. Those journeys had been long and stifled, with the curtains shut around her and her cloak heavy as a shroud. But she’d been curious enough, hungry enough, to fold back one of the curtains and drink in the sights with her eyes. She’d memorized those journeys. She should have known the way.

The city was so changed around her that her memories were little use. She walked through the storm for a little longer, pushing hard through the beating force of the wind, before she finally accepted that she was no closer to Lalita’s home than she had been when she’d been standing in her own chambers, watching the dreamfire fall.