The Theft of Sunlight Intisar Khanani (red seas under red skies .txt) 📖

“What do you propose?” Alyrra asks.

“That I take on this effort. Your attendant can still report to you, but let me be the one to order any initiative against the slavers.”

“Cousin, you are as vulnerable as we are,” Kestrin argues. “Possibly more so.”

Garrin shrugs, a gesture both rueful and resigned. “Exactly. So preserve yourselves, and let me worry about myself.”

The conversation has shifted, and I know Garrin is speaking about something else now. Whatever danger the family faced, Garrin hasn’t cleared it. I remember Zaria’s words about a curse, and about the Fae mage being here to offer his aid. Even if a curse can’t last generations by definition, there’s some trouble here, and I would bet our horse farm there’s magic at its root.

Garrin turns to me. “If you have another way to identify your slavers, kelari, another way to stop them, then we can take that approach.”

I glance at Alyrra, and she dips her head, her expression grim. So I nod once to Garrin.

When I began this work, the snatchers seemed a ruthless and dangerous enemy. I’ve a feeling there’s a great deal worse I have no idea about, and the Circle is just the tip of it.

Chapter

37

When I return to my room, I find a letter waiting from Ani: her first. It is short, slightly disjointed, and utterly heartbreaking.

I hope you are well, dear friend, she writes. I hope you are finding out the things you intended to learn, though I realize now that there is little hope. Not for us, at least. Each day that passes, I feel like I lose a little more of my sister. I want to hold on to every memory of her. I don’t remember what the last thing was that I said to Seri. I forgot what we did together the night before she disappeared, but Mama reminded me, and I’m holding on to that, but, Rae, she’s fading. I’m afraid one day I’ll forget what Seri looks like. I’m terrified I’ll wake up one morning and won’t think of her, won’t miss her, because that’s all I have left. I am trying to hold on to her, and it hurts so much, and I do not know what you are doing, but please, whatever it is you can do there, do it.

I love you, my friend. Come home when you’ve done what you can. I know you can’t fix or solve everything. I know you’ll try for what you can do. I wish I could be there with you, doing something. Be safe and know I miss you.

I sit at my desk, the letter before me, and wish I could hug my friend, just sit with her and hold her through her grief. I know she has other friends, and loving parents, but I want to be there as well.

Because everything I’ve done and learned so far hasn’t uncovered anything but a possible conspiracy the royals dare not touch. That may be a great deal to have learned, but it does the snatched children and their families little good.

I sit for a long time, stewing over the conversation between the royals and thinking about the archer whose journal I stole from the Black Scholar. The archer who betrayed her liege in order to save her people.

This is different, of course. It’s not the king whose sacrifice is needed because he did some great wrong in the past. It’s the Circle, and the wrong they have done is ongoing. Betraying them would potentially destroy the king and leave at least a faction of the mages still in power, if not all of them. It would put the people even more at their mercy, without the king there to buffer their decisions. Though he cannot know what they are doing. Can he?

No. If he knew, then Kestrin would surely have known, and my words this afternoon would not have shocked him. Nor would he have aided Alyrra in finding someone to help investigate the snatchers if he already knew of a possible connection.

I take a deep breath, exhale slowly. I am not giving up on the snatchers. I cannot bring back Seri, or undo Ani’s grief, but I can fight with all I have to stop the snatchers themselves.

The fact that the mages are lending their aid to protect the snatchers means they must also be gaining something from the arrangement. If I can figure out that piece—especially if it is something more significant than gold or coin—I might be able to discover who is delivering it to them. And then I would have a better idea who the snatchers themselves are.

I look at Ani’s letter, and know that I have an ally in almost anyone who has lost a family member to the snatchers. I might not know how to track the movement of resources, or what wealth the Circle is accumulating, but I know someone I can ask.

I leave my room, taking the back stairs down with just a cursory nod to Captain Matsin, who watches me pass through the guard room with lifted brows. By the time I reach the far side of the palace complex, my foot has begun to ache from keeping up such a brisk pace over the tiled floors.

I reach the bench-lined path across from the administrative buildings just as a group of workers step out.

Taking in the richness of my clothing, one of them says, “Apologies, veria. I’m afraid we’re closed.”

“I’m looking for Kelari Kirrana,” I say, glancing past him in hopes of spotting her.

“Oh, Kirrana already left, veria,” one of the girls says. “She’s going home to stay with her parents for the festivities—we all have tomorrow off. But she might still be packing up. You could check the women’s residence.”

I ask directions, and a moment later set off for the residence, moving as fast as I can, hoping I don’t end up with more blisters. The building lies