“Raja Lohar is dead now,” I say slowly. “Doesn’t it mean you’re free to leave?”
“Not if we’re hiding the two most wanted people in Ambar,” Esther says. Kali clears her throat. “Three, rather,” Esther corrects.
“Why are you hiding us when you could easily hand us in?” I ask. “You would probably be rewarded for it.”
“Yes, it would be easy to turn you in,” Esther says. “And we would have if we hadn’t been praying for this—for the Star Warrior—for two decades. We’re hoping we can negotiate a deal with the new king. Bargain for your safety.”
“Rajkumar Amar was crowned Ambarnaresh three days after Lohar died,” Kali tells me. “We’re hoping he might be sympathetic once he learns the truth about what happened at the palace.”
“You’re facing an uphill battle there,” I say, thinking of the fury on Prince Amar’s face, the hatred in his eyes. Even if we were pardoned for regicide, he could still punish us for his brothers’ deaths. Imprison us for life if he so chooses.
“But—” Kali stops abruptly at the sound of pattering feet. Another girl bursts into the room, her eyes bright with excitement. She must be in her twenties or so, her face tattooed exactly like Esther’s. She pauses to stare at me for a moment, as if marveling at my wakefulness. She grins. “Brilliant. He’s awake.”
“Yes, Sami.” Esther’s voice is calm, holds only a trace of impatience. “Did you come specifically to see that?”
Sami shakes her head. “Oh no, Didi! I wanted to let you know that the Star Warrior is awake, too!”
“Where are you going?” Esther’s stern voice makes me realize I’ve been making a move to follow them out of the room.
“I’m only going—”
“Nowhere,” Kali cuts me off, and with a hand gently, but firmly, steers me back inside. “Come on, Cavas. You’ll get to see Gul soon. We need to make sure you’re fed a proper meal before you can move around again.”
“I’m not hungry.” My stomach growls a split second later, traitorous thing.
“Sami will get you some food.” Kali smiles. “We won’t keep you caged in here. I promise.”
Perhaps they wouldn’t. But this city is a prison itself. Defeated, I sag back onto the bed. Gul’s all right, I tell myself. She’s alive. The crushing weight on my ribs lessens somewhat. Cool air wafts in through the window, and I suddenly remember what Indu said a few days ago about specters living here, in the city of shadows.
“Papa?” I whisper into the air around me. “Are you there?”
In the distance, there are more clacking sounds. But no answering whisper. No Papa.
“Papa?” I say again, loudly this time.
“He won’t be here.”
I stiffen at the sound of the voice. “Show yourself.”
He does, at once, appearing right next to the window where I stood only moments earlier, his gray body almost translucent in the sunlight.
“Don’t ever do that again.” My words feel like an echo, a reminder of something I’d heard once before—from Gul, I realize. She’d said the same thing to me when I’d held on to her hand, had somehow stopped her from killing Prince Amar with her magic.
“I’m sorry, boy,” Latif says, a strange sheen to his gray eyes. “I know I failed your father. Failed to keep my promise to you. But he isn’t here with us now. He never will be.”
“How can you know?” I demand. “He’ll come if I call for him! Papa! Papa!”
My voice echoes in the small room, but there is no answer. Latif’s expression is oddly sympathetic.
“Why, then,” I ask, “are you still here?”
Why you and not him?
“Your father was ready to die,” Latif says. “I wasn’t. If your father wanted to stay, you would have seen him emerge from his body in specter form right after he died.”
The words splinter something inside me. But I do not cry. Not a tear emerges as Latif continues staring at me in silence. What use are tears? When have they ever been of use?
“You’ll have to cry sometime, boy. It’s never any good keeping grief bottled up.”
I don’t scold him for reading my thoughts. All I know is that I won’t be crying.
Not today. Never again.
“Not even when you see your mother?” Latif’s voice is quiet.
“Don’t you dare play games with me.”
“I’m not playing games. Your mother is here. She is a specter as well.”
“I know she’s a specter. But she doesn’t want to see me, remember?” I point out in a hard voice. “She never came when I called for her. You confirmed it.”
“Why she did not come and see you is her story to tell,” Latif says. “But she does want to see you, boy. She hasn’t forgotten her only son.”
“Oh really? Where is she, then?”
But Latif refuses to tell me where my mother is in this moment. “Apart from you, Esther is the only other seer in Tavan. I don’t want her getting angry with me for disturbing your rest,” he tells me. “Your mother will come to you tonight. Right now, she’s on guard duty at the city’s boundary with the other specters.”
“Guard duty?”
“How else do you think Tavan has remained safe all these years? The specters circle the golden bars and make sure the city remains invisible.”
Before I can respond, Latif disappears again, and I’m left to stare into the space he leaves behind.
The hours go by slow when you have nothing to do. Even slower when you’re desperately waiting for someone who also happens to be your mother. But my injuries make movement difficult, and Esther’s medicine is strong. I
