Of Beauty and Beast

I grit my teeth and direct my gaze toward the roses—reminding myself why I’m here—just in time to see a woman creep from the shadows of the orchard. I can’t see her face or what she’s wearing in the dim moonlight, but I know immediately who she is.

Isra. I recognize her walk, the way her hips sway beneath her clothes, the careful reach of her toes as she moves across unseen terrain. I know her. I do. Even in the dark.

The knock on the door is soft, but it still makes me jump.

I feel like I’ve been caught doing something worse than staring out my window. Maybe I have. I can imagine what Gare would say about my knowing a Smooth Skin girl so well.

The knock comes again, and I turn slowly to face the door. My evening meal came hours ago. There shouldn’t be anyone near my room until morning. The Smooth Skins have great trust in their locks and keys.

The only time I’m guarded is when the soldiers escort me to the queen’s garden.

So who is here now?

The flap at the bottom of the door swoops open, and a small package slides along the floor. I tense on instinct, my claws shuddering in their beds.

I approach the bundle carefully, keeping an eye on the still-swinging flap of wood through which my meals are shoved. This is the first time something else has come through. I squat beside the package and unfold the linen holding it together. Inside is a piece of paper with simple words written in an even hand, and a thick coil of rope with a large hook on one end.

I begin to sound out the words on the paper, but haven’t gotten past

“Gem, I need—” before the sound of a key turning in the lock makes my head snap up and my claws extend.

I lift my arms as the door swings open to reveal Needle, Isra’s maid, standing on the other side. Her large brown eyes get even bigger when she sees my claws, but she doesn’t scream or turn to run. She only blinks and swallows and points a thin finger to the package.

Having my claws out begins to feel … strange.

“Ridiculous.” That’s the word Isra uses for the hated dresses she’s forced to wear to the Smooth Skin eating rooms and the endless Smooth Skin banquets. In some ways, Isra is a stranger here, too. I know that. I know that’s why Bo treats her like an invalid and her advisors treat her like a child. Still, I didn’t expect this note. There are some words I can’t work through, but I understand enough to decipher its meaning.

I finish, and I am … shaken.

If anyone finds out what she’s done, she really will be locked away in that tower of hers. Not even a queen can go against her city’s wishes like this and not be punished. At least, not a queen like Isra, a blind, broken queen without the love of her subjects or the trust of her council.

I have to stop her. And if I can’t stop her, I will have to help her. I may hate her, but I need her. She’s the only reason I’m allowed out of this room, my only chance to steal a future for my people.

I hand the paper to Needle, who wastes no time tearing it to pieces.

She’s loyal to Isra, then. That’s something. Maybe not enough to keep the soldiers from discovering mine and Isra’s absence, but it’s something. I take the rope with the hook and begin to move past her, but she stops me with a hand on my arm.

I look down and down and down at her. She is half a meter shorter than Isra and more fragile in every way, but the stubborn glint in her eyes reminds me of the queen.

Her lips move without sound. I watch her, and after a moment I think I understand her silent plea.

Keep her safe. Please. Keep her safe.

Maybe Isra does have the love of at least one person.

“I would never hurt her,” I assure Needle in a hushed voice.

She stares up at me for a long moment before stepping back and pointing to the end of the corridor, where a window large enough for a Desert Man to crawl through opens out onto the royal garden. The guards passed down the path outside the barracks only a few moments ago. I should have just enough time to reach Isra, talk her out of leaving the city, and get back to my cell undiscovered.

I don’t waste my breath telling Needle more lies. I turn and run.

9 ISRA

I step into the garden, shaking all over, but not from the cold. I’m barely aware of the cold. I’m racing inside. My pulse rushes like the river beneath the city, wild and reckless and angry.

And frightened. I’m frightened, too.

I’ve been frightened my entire life, but that fear was different from this. The former was a monster hiding in the shadows at the end of a long, winding lane. This fear is Death reaching for my throat with both hands, so close that I can hear his cold breath seep from his lungs.

Junjie tried to keep the news quiet, but there was little chance of that. The court is still in mourning. There is no music or dancing or playacting to provide entertainment. The only thing to do is talk, and the ladies and gentlemen of the court excel at that, especially when the subject of discussion is something so compelling.

And terrible.

A crack in the dome. It was all anyone could whisper about: “Is it truly there?” “What caused it?” “How long will it take to assess the damage?” “What will Junjie do to ensure the safety of the city?”

Not, What will Queen Isra do? No one thought to seek my council.

Junjie was the one they turned to for guidance. My name was never spoken, but I was at the heart of every hushed conversation that drifted to my giant ears. If the dome is cracked, it will be seen as a sign that the covenant is weakening. If the injury can be easily repaired, the panic may pass for a time, but the damage is already done.

I press my fist against my lips to hold back the whimper rising in my throat. I knew the day of sacrifice would come, but I didn’t expect it would be so soon. My life can’t end now, not when I’ve scarcely had the chance to live it.

I lean over, resting my palms on the bed surrounding the roses, digging my fingertips into the rough stone. I take a deep breath, grateful for the cold air that softens the roses’ perfume. I don’t want my head filled with their ominous stench. I wouldn’t have come here at all, except it seemed the safest place to meet Gem.

I focus on my breath until it grows smooth and, finally, my heartbeat slows.

I can’t lose hope. The crack might not be a crack at all. It could be detritus from the desert stuck on the outside of the glass, a trick of light, or … something else entirely. ( Please, please, let it be something else.) The fissure is too high up for it to be seen clearly, even with a spyglass. The soldiers will have to send a man to take a closer look, which means rigging the rope-and-pulley system the city hasn’t used in half a century.

Bo says it will take at least three days to set up the equipment, and that he will be the one to strap on the harness and be hauled out into the void to assess the situation. He promised to keep everyone away from me until then, and to alert Gem’s guards that the Monstrous won’t be working in the field for the rest of the week. I told Bo I wanted to be alone while I waited to see what effects giving up my morning tea will have on my constitution, but I know he assumed it was fear that made me retreat to my tower.

He seemed afraid, too. His arm shook as he escorted me to my door.

His lips trembled when he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

I touch the place now, and swear the patch of skin still feels colder than the rest. It was the first time Bo has dared a kiss since the night he thought we were both infected with poison from Gem’s claws.

“Maybe he only kisses queens who are about to die,” I say aloud, fighting the sudden urge to giggle. There’s nothing funny about the mad thing I’m about to do. There is nothing funny about what will happen if Bo fails to keep his word. If Junjie or his guards enter the tower and discover my absence, they’ll know Needle was keeping my disappearance a secret.

They’ll jail her. Or worse.