She didn’t know how long she danced. She only knew that her breath was growing short, that her mouth was full of sand and she didn’t know how much longer she could go on. Then, with a suddenness that astounded her, the dreamfire let her go. She stumbled to a stop, falling to her knees and drawing her hood hastily back down over her face so that she could suck in a few deep lungfuls of air untainted by dust. When she felt more herself, she raised her head and peered through the light.

Miracle of miracles. Mehr was outside Lalita’s home.

Lalita’s haveli built from honeyed sandstone, with a veranda marked by the subtle beauty of stone vines and flowers. She felt their shapes with her fingers as she blindly traced her way up the steps and under the cover of the columned entrance.

She’d made it. Somehow. She turned and looked back out at the storm.

She couldn’t believe what had just happened to her.

Mehr swallowed. She couldn’t let her mind linger on it now. Emotion could come later. Right now she needed to find Lalita.

She pressed a hand flat against the door, testing, expecting it to be securely barred. It creaked open.

Dark foreboding welled up in her chest. She touched the fingertips of her free hand to her dagger and slipped quietly inside.

The hallway was unlit. The lanterns hanging on the walls had guttered, but only recently, and were still giving off coils of smoke. Mehr pressed the door shut behind her.

Mehr walked deeper into the building. No guards forced Mehr to halt. There was no sign of Lalita, and no sign of any of the household staff. The rooms lining the hallway were black and silent. She slowed to a crawl, eyes and ears open. She could barely see. All she could hear was the roar of the storm and the steady thump of her own heart.

She was near the inner courtyard now, the garden that lay at the center of the haveli. She still hadn’t seen a single soul.

Her sore, aching feet pressed down into something wet.

She froze, her pulse frantic in her ears. Then she kneeled down and touched the ground. The liquid was too thick to be water. She raised her fingers up.

There was blood beneath her feet.

She drew her dagger out of her sash.

There was a trail of blood leading down the hall to the inner courtyard. She followed it. She’d come this far. She had a duty to fulfill. She reached the doors to the courtyard and opened them wide.

On the steps leading down to the courtyard lay a body. Mehr ran toward it, then kneeled, furious and afraid.

Not Lalita. The body wasn’t Lalita’s.

“Usha,” Mehr said. “Usha, can you hear me?”