She dashed out the far door. I followed, panic harrying my steps. We burst through another opulent chamber, then veered right into a room filled with clerks’ desks and papers. Zaira flung open the window, which looked out over sprawling gardens.

“We’ve got to jump.” Chill night air flowed through the window as she leaned out. “It’s not far. Come on.”

Zaira swung her legs over the edge of the window and dropped down. A loud rustle below suggested she had landed in a bush.

A great clamor roared through the palace, coming closer like a breaking wave, full of shouts and slamming doors and cries of outrage. It couldn’t be more than a few rooms away now. I took a breath and leaped after her.

I crashed down into a hedge that scratched and jabbed my arms and legs. I rolled out of it to find Zaira already sprinting away through the gardens. I ran after her; my height gave me a longer stride, but she was fast. For a moment I thought I might not be able to catch up, and would be left behind to be pulled down by angry guards like a deer fleeing hounds. But after she reached a clump of trees, Zaira veered toward the street that ran in front of the River Palace, slowing.

By the time I reached her side, my legs trembled, and my breath came high and fast, though we’d only run a short distance. “What are you doing? You’re heading for the open street!”

She stripped off her jacket and tossed it under a bush. Understanding, I did the same. “The street is better protection than the gardens,” she said, her voice clipped. “No one out there knows we’re wanted.”

She took us in a wide circle out onto the street, ignoring the cries and shouts of alarm still audible from the palace. Once we reached the road, she walked swiftly but smoothly, only the tense line of her shoulders betraying anything was wrong.

“Stop breathing like that,” she muttered at me. “We’re not running anymore.”

I struggled to control my breathing. It wasn’t easy; I had to focus on each breath, which was difficult given the fact that I was starting to feel light-headed. The edges of my vision swam and blurred.

My elixir was wearing off. I’d missed my dose.

I couldn’t afford to get faint and weak-kneed now. I waited until Zaira’s attention focused on an approaching party of half-drunk revelers, singing, with their arms across each other’s shoulders, then fished my emergency vial out of my bodice. The tiny metal bottle lay cool against my palm.

Zaira glanced back. “No one following us. Yet.”

I flicked the wax stopper off with my thumb, releasing the sweet scent of anise. I downed the elixir in one swallow, before Zaira could see.