“I just did,” said Shiraz Detori, dismissing Berzaan with a wave of his hand. He looked at the guards. “Release the girl.”
But I didn’t let them near her, and they didn’t even try. I turned and broke the girl’s shackles with my magic, severing the cold cuffs away from her raw bleeding wrists. I pushed a little healing magic into her to ease the pain. I could have healed her back completely, but there were too many people watching, and Penelope had warned me about using my healing powers in front of others.
“She belongs to you now,” said Shiraz Detori, as if he were giving me a gift.
“I don’t keep slaves. She is a free person,” I snapped.
He held up his hands in front of him as if it would calm me. “It’s up to you. She’s yours to do with as you wish.”
Berzaan glowered at me, but I could see fear in his beady brown eyes. He lifted his chin and stalked away into the crowd.
Prince Shiraz cleared his throat. “As a gesture of good faith, I would like to invite you—” he paused and looked at Penelope and Tristan, “—and your companions to stay at the palace for a few days. My father is out of the city at the moment, but he will be back soon, and I know he would love to meet with the Shadowbreaker herself.” The way he said my title was not with awe as others tended to do. I was sure he meant for it to sound as such, but it sounded like an insult when he said it.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Penelope nod once. This was the perfect opportunity to find out where the Detoris’ loyalty lay. My grandmother had instructed me to convince the Detoris to ally with us and gain their support before I secured the rest of Brandor—and what better way to do it than staying at the palace as Shiraz Detori’s guest? The Detoris were the most powerful of the emirs after Roderigo Valasis, Santino’s father. If the Detori and the Valasis families were with us, the rest of the emirs would follow.
I turned to the girl I had rescued. She was a little thing, barely thirteen years old. “What’s your name?” I asked gently.
“Rhea,” she said between sniffles.
“Would you like to come with us?” I inquired. “It would be safer for you until we find a way to get you back to your family.”
Rhea nodded.
I looked at the Prince of Nedora. “Rhea comes with us.”
“Of course,” he grinned, showing me his pristine white teeth. “I will have our best physicians tend to her back. She will be better in no time.”
I nodded my assent. “Thank you.”
Penelope’s eyes softened, and she took off her cloak and put it around the girl. “Come, Rhea, you are safe now.”
Rhea huddled under the warm blue cloak, which seemed to swallow up her small form.
Shiraz Detori called for palanquins to take us to the palace, and I got into one with Rhea, to make sure she was not scared. Tristan rode beside us on a proud chestnut stallion, brought over for him by one of the guards.
The dusky pink sky had turned to fiery gold as the sun made progress across the sky. I gazed out of my palanquin curtains at the hot dusty streets. Honey-colored sandstone houses with flat roofs spread out in a circle around the palace, all the way to the shores of the Sea of Shadows. Every little street and alley eventually led up to four main avenues that divided the city into districts.
The Detori guards whom I had seen all over the city walked beside us and behind the palanquins, their curved swords and hard looks a deterrent to any citizen who chose to come too close to the Detoris or those in their company. The subservience in this kingdom was to a far greater degree than I had seen in the western kingdoms.
For one thing, slavery had been abolished in Illiador and Eldoren many years ago. It was only in the eastern kingdom of Brandor that slavery was still practiced. In Sanria, the other big city on the western coast of Brandor, the slaves were better off than the ones I had seen here, but it was slavery all the same. I decided I would have a talk with Santino about getting the emirs to finally end slavery in Brandor as well.
As we passed the main market square, hunched women with baskets on their heads trudged beside us, while bearded men with heavy sacks laden with goods set up stalls for the day. Huge clay pots filled with fragrant spices lined the shaded area near a busy trader with a new supply of animal skins and leather goods. The smells of the market filled the palanquin as we passed, an unpleasant mix of dung, spices, and cooking meat.
Tall palm trees spread out sporadically through the city, providing inadequate shade to the hot, sweating citizens who traversed the dusty streets. The rest of the nobility moved around in palanquins and on horses, while camels were escorted into the city laden with wares for trade.
“Where are you from, Rhea? How did you end up as a slave?” I turned at the sound of Penelope’s voice.
“A few months ago, I was captured from my tribe in Rohron and brought here on a ship. It was horrible—days of never seeing land; hundreds of us crammed into the bowels of the ship. There was little food, and so many people died before we even got to Nedora.” Her sobs interrupted the story.
Penelope held her hand. Once she calmed down, she continued, “I was kept as a slave in Lord Berzaan’s house. He wanted . . .” Her breath hitched in her throat. “He wanted me to come to his bed. I had no other choice. That’s why I ran away.”
“That was a very brave
