“This may take some time,” she said.
He nodded, knowing that would be the case.
Rehada closed her eyes.
Nikandr was entranced as he watched. Rehada was nervous at first, tentative, but then her breath deepened. Her shoulders slumped. Her mouth fell slack. Their breathing fell into sync so completely that they seemed of one breath, of one mind.
But then differences began to appear. Rehada’s brow furrowed. Her throat swallowed several times. Nasim began shaking his head, and the motion grew in frequency and intensity.
A moan escaped Rehada. Her eyes were still closed, but they were clamped shut, as if she feared to open them. He knew she was communing with Nasim, but he had no idea what she might be seeing.
“Rehada?” he asked.
She didn’t respond.
Nasim was shaking his head more fiercely.
“Rehada?” he repeated as he kneeled next to Nasim and held him, trying to quell his violent motions. Nikandr felt heat and knew immediately it was coming from Rehada.
“Rehada, wake up!”
Smoke began to issue from inside her robes.
“Rehada, wake up now!”
It trailed out from her neck and along her face. Nikandr hauled Nasim away, hoping to break their bond.
It seemed to have no effect.
Then Rehada’s clothes began to burn.
By the ancients, what was happening?
He laid Nasim down in the corner and grabbed the sheets from the bed and threw them over her, hoping to smother the flames.
But the flames grew, and Rehada began to scream.
CHAPTER 25
Nikandr swatted at the flames, hoping Rehada would wake on her own. He was nearly to the point of striking her to jar her from her trance when her eyes shot open.
Her face turned purple. Her eyes were wide as they searched the room. A sound uttered from her throat, more like a rusted hinge than an inhalation. Then, finally, she took in a deep, rasping breath. She began coughing immediately after, pulling herself into a ball like a child afraid of the night.
He continued to beat at the flames until finally all of them had been smothered. “Can you hear me?”
She nodded weakly.
“What happened?”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes were wild, afraid. Her breathing was still coming in long, wheezing draws.
“What happened?” he repeated. He hoped that by keeping her talking, it would prevent her from slipping back.
“I found him,” she said. “But my hezhan rebelled.”
“Rebelled?”
She nodded, cringing as she touched her neck. “I fear it was some effect brought on by Nasim’s presence.”
Nikandr’s expression became concerned. “What does it mean?”
“It means that I will need to try again.”
His heart sank. “There cannot be a next time, Rehada. I can’t allow you in again.”
She stared into his eyes with a look that made it clear how disgraced she was. “It would be impossible to bring him to me.”
“I’m afraid so.”
He helped her to sit up. She looked down at the remains of her clothing, nearly all of which had been burned to cinders. Nikandr sent the gaoler to find clothes, and as he and Rehada waited, his sense that he’d made a terrible mistake by bringing Rehada here grew by the moment. Finally the gaoler returned with acceptable-if overly large-clothes for Rehada. She put them on and Nikandr led her back the way they had come.
When they reached the large hallway, Nikandr froze when he realized they were being watched. One of the triplets-Ishkyna, he thought-was standing far down the hall, hair disheveled, the smile on her face fading as she looked between Nikandr and Rehada.
One of the palotza’s guardsman was standing near her. His hand had been at the small of her back, but the moment he saw Nikandr, he dropped it and straightened.
Ishkyna glared at Rehada with an expression that even from a distance could only be interpreted as severe disapproval, and then she took the guardsman’s hand and alighted the stairs, giving Nikandr one last look that dared him to make mention of it.
Of anyone-even Atiana-Ishkyna was the last person he would have chosen to see him like this. Not only was she indiscreet. She was devious. Hopefully he could speak to her before she ran her mouth.
“Was that her?” Rehada asked.
“ Nyet. Her sister, Ishkyna.”
Rehada pulled her lips into a compressed line. “Is Atiana as pretty?”
Nikandr shook his head, laughing softly. “Prettier.”
Rehada smiled. “Then you have done well.”
With that she turned and walked away, toward the door through which she had entered. Nikandr saw her into the waiting coach and nodded to the driver. He snapped the reins, and in moments the coach was gone.
His stomach was beginning to turn as he returned to the cells. He took out his flask to take some of the elixir but was surprised to find that there was only one swallow left. He had refilled it only yesterday. Had he drank so much already?
He finished it off and walked to Ashan’s cell and found him sitting cross-legged on the ornate carpet in the center of the large room. His hands rested on his knees. He watched calmly as Nikandr closed the door and collapsed into a nearby chair.
Ashan seemed concerned-making it clear he had heard the commotion-but Nikandr wasn’t ready to speak of it. He needed a moment to let his stomach settle.
“Do you know Rehada Ulan al Shineshka?” he finally asked.
“I do. She is an accomplished suuraqiram, and a woman her mother can be proud of.”
“She is a woman I care for deeply. At my request, she came, hoping to commune with Nasim. She woke from her trance not long ago, her clothes burning. She was unharmed, but it occurred while she was trying to reach Nasim. He seemed to become agitated just before it happened.”
In their talks with one another, Ashan had always seemed like a carefree man. He could be serious, but more often than not he was quick to smile and light of heart. But now for the first time, as he considered Nikandr’s words, he seemed deeply troubled. “There is something I wish to share with you, son of Iaros, something that may be difficult for you to believe.” He took a deep breath before continuing.“Nasim is gifted, as you know, and I have long been trying to understand how it might have come to be. When we are born, there is some part of us that is taken from our previous lives. A kernel only. A seed. It allows us, fates willing, to expand our awareness as the world grows older. Some retain more of their past, some less.
“I no longer have any doubts that the first possibility is the one that applies to Nasim. We spoke of Ghayavand… It is a dead island, I told you, which is true. What I did not reveal are the reasons behind it. Over three centuries ago there was a troika of powerful arqesh, each as close to vashaqiram as any in our history. It was the end of the last age of enlightenment, and they believed the time was right to merge the two worlds.”
It was one of several possible ways the Aramahn believed the world would end. Indaraqiram, the point at which Adhiya and Erahm become one, when all souls meld, both here and beyond. The Grand Duchy gave no credence to such beliefs, citing the failings of the most powerful of the qiram as proof. They believed, rightly, that
