“It stopped with Raven’s birth.”

“Poor child,” the Zoroastrian moaned. “That’s a long time for bones to remain idle. They became so weak, they couldn’t support you any longer.”

“Holy One,” Rebekah said, “you’re talking in riddles.”

“When part of the body is not regularly used,” the Ancient Zoroastrian said, “it becomes brittle and eventually crumbles. After Raven’s birth, your bones gradually grew weaken When you fell from the horse, they collapsed, spilling your emotions every which way and causing chaos. But your soft bones also saved you. If they were strong and singing, when you fell your rigid bones would have punctured your heart, your liver, or your spleen and killed you.”

Rebekah wrung her hands as if she had the old woman’s tongue between her palms. “What’s the remedy, Holy One?”

“There is a remedy for all ailments; it’s the desire we lack.”

“Gold,” Rebekah pleaded. “Assure the Holy One you have the will.”

“Madar, I’ve lost the support that holds my emotions together. I don’t know how to summon any feeling but grief.”

The Ancient Zoroastrian raised a triumphant finger. “Yes! Without the protection of your bones, you can’t contain your sadness, or look beyond the present into a better future. That’s why your tears flow unchecked.

“Child, do you have love in your life?”

“Of course,” Rebekah interrupted, “the Shah’s, Raven’s, mine.”

The woman waved her hand in Rebekah’s face. “Let your daughter talk! I’ve remedies from the beginning of time that cure any malady, but I can’t cure lies and false hopes.”

“What is love?” Gold Dust sighed. “I love like a sultana, like a daughter, like a mother.”

“Have you loved like a woman?”

“I don’t know. I’ve known one man.”

The Ancient Zoroastrian rested ravaged fingers on Gold Dust’s head. “Your first step to recovery is to find a patient lover to teach you to minister to each emotion separately, not only acknowledge pain and sadness, but joy and eventually hope. Hope is the mortar of our bones.”

She turned to Rebekah. “Gold Dust’s bones didn’t deteriorate without the silent collaboration of you, the Shah, Raven. Free your daughter Take her to the one who’s not consumed by his empire and his daughter. Prove to her a man can care.”

“You’ve all gone mad!” Rebekah screamed, no longer able to contain herself. “Gold Dust is the Shah’s favorite! No man is allowed to see her face. How in the world do you propose she meet with a stranger? The Shah will kill her!”

The Ancient Zoroastrian’s opal gaze settled on Rebekah. “I know you well, Rebekah. You will find a way, or your daughter’s misplaced emotions will kill her before the Shah will.”

36