Chapter 3 - Golden Kingdom

I coughed and stared up at the man. The firelight below illuminated a face sculpted of stone chiseled into strong features. He’d pulled his dark hair into a topknot, making the frown lines on his forehead more pronounced. The slash of his brows dipped angrily above light-colored eyes. He had a nose straight as a blade and lips that thinned as he pressed them together in fury. He wore dark blue, the jeweled lion on his long coat glinting in the orange light. Suddenly, he reached down and grasped my arm, moving me aside with little effort. He’d grabbed my uninjured shoulder, and I managed not to flinch, even though I half-feared he’d throw me off the cliff.

Instead, he lent his strength to the two men holding Taio’s rope. The three heaved in unison, and Taio’s head became visible. With a cry of relief, I rose to my knees and lunged toward Taio, grasping his coat and holding on as though my life depended on it. My life did depend on his survival—in more ways than I could count or even comprehend. I could not lose him. Kintle and Yung grasped Taio under the arms and the man with the topknot reached out a hand, which Taio clasped. My hold on Taio slipped as he was pulled onto the lookout platform. Below, a loud hiss and pop sounded as one of the monsters succumbed to the fire. The glow of the blaze grew brighter as the flames jumped to more of the vegetation.

“Water! Now!” Leed ordered in Zulenii. I hadn’t noticed the dozens of buckets at the far end of the air boat platform before. Now the warriors hefted them and began to dump the water over the side of the platform, dousing the fire below.

“Mara.” Taio’s voice in my ear broke the spell the flames had woven. I whipped my head around to meet his gaze. “Can you stand?”

“Yes.” My shoulder still ached, and my arms shook from the effort of holding on to him moments before, but my legs were steady enough. He wrapped an arm about my waist and pulled me to my feet and away from the edge of the platform, making way for the warriors hauling the buckets. I wanted to embrace him and bury my head in his chest, but I dared not show such weakness before so many Zulenii I did not know. Taio didn’t take me in his arms, either. Instead, he guided me to the far edge of the platform, where another air boat was docking, the buckets of water loaded on board sloshing liquid across the platform as the vessel rocked.

“Lady Mara of Earsleh,” Taio said in Earslehen, “this is my father, Tsoh of the First House of Zulen.” Taio gestured to the man who’d stood over me glaring. What have you done with my son? Of course this was Taio’s father. I could see the resemblance now in the forehead, the eyes, and the strong jaw. But Taio had a softer mouth and wider eyes. This man looked as though his lips and eyes were permanently pinched.

“Lady Mara.” Lord Tsoh opened his arms and moved to embrace me. I stiffened and only the application of all my willpower allowed me to accept this welcome gesture from a man who was not only a stranger, but who clearly no more wanted to embrace me than I did him. His body felt stiff and unyielding, and he was cold, especially compared to the heat coming off me from battle and proximity to the fire. He touched his cheeks to both of mine, his flesh like marble.

When we parted, I bowed my head. I couldn’t think what to say immediately. This wasn’t how I’d pictured meeting Taio’s parents. I imagined my mother standing at my side (appalled at my appearance, no doubt) and knew what I should say. “Lord Tsoh, I am honored to meet you.”

Taio translated for me.

“My father, King Wollem the Fifth, has sent letters of introduction. Allow me to retrieve them and place them in your custody.” I looked about for my pack, but I couldn’t locate it on the lookout platform with the Zulenii warriors rushing about.

Taio put his arm back around my waist. “We will find them when we arrive at Gold House. There you will meet my mother,” he said in Earslehen. “I will inform both of the letters at that point.” He nodded to his father, who frowned at us. “Father, I am pleased to tell you my mission succeeded. I won the Claiming Rite and am betrothed to Lady Mara.”

Lord Tsoh drew in a breath, his expression unsmiling. I’d understood Taio’s words well enough, so that wasn’t the issue. Mayhap I wasn’t what Lord Tsoh imagined for a daughter-in-law.

“Can she read the royal language?” Lord Tsoh asked. “Can she give us the cure?”

“Yes, read language,” I said, though my rudimentary Zulenii made me sound like a child of two trying to communicate. “Try help cure find.”

Lord Tsoh’s gaze lingered on me for a moment then shifted back to Taio. “My son.” He pulled Taio in for another embrace. I felt cold and awkward watching the two men hold each other for so long. I wasn’t certain where to look or what to do. One thing was clear. Lord Tsoh loved his son. When they finally parted, Lord Tsoh put a hand on Taio’s shoulder. “Go to Gold House and see your mother. I will be there as soon as the danger here has passed.”

“Yes, Father.”

Lord Tsoh didn’t glance at me again. Instead, he headed to the nearest bucket of water, lifted it, and dumped it over the side of the platform. As I watched, he took another and repeated the gesture.

“Mara?” Taio said, touching my arm. I blinked and realized he must have spoken to me. I had been standing with my jaw dropped as I stared at Taio’s father. I had never seen a king join his subjects in doing menial labor like lifting a bucket of water to douse a fire. My father would have overseen the task, not engaged in it himself. But there was Lord Tsoh and his daughter Omira working side by side with sweaty soldiers, heaving heavy buckets to extinguish the fires below. Even without being able to see over the side, I knew they were succeeding. The light from the fires had dimmed and the smoke rising now was different than before—the sort of smoke that rose from an extinguished hearth, not a blazing one.

“We should help,” I said, gesturing to the air boat, which was almost empty of buckets.

“You are exhausted,” he said. “And so am I. Leed and his men have this in hand.”

“But Omira and Yung—”

“I am transporting them down with us.” He touched my face with his fingertips. “Your face lacks color. You need rest.”

“If you’re trying to tell me I look like I just came off a Barrier patrol, I am well-aware.”

He cocked his head at me. “I do not know what this means. Come. The air boat is ready.” He called Omira, Yung, and Kintle to accompany us, and we squeezed into the air boat to stand among the stacks of empty buckets going back down to be refilled. One of the warriors tossed us our packs and the air boat was away. The vessel made a slow trek to the dock in the valley, but whereas before the lower platform had been empty, now a dozen people waited.

“Are they all going up?” I asked Taio.

“They will fill the buckets from the well and send the air boat back,” Omira answered. She looked up at the mountain peaks. “The danger looks to have passed.”

For now, I thought.

“One more load to be certain,” Taio said to the air boat operator standing at the crank that controlled the pulley system. The vessel jolted as it came to a stop. I sighed with relief at being back on level ground then jumped when screams rent the air. I reached for my hammer, but Taio grabbed my wrist, holding it at my side. “Happy noises,” he said. “Listen.”

Still holding on to the handle of my hammer, I scanned the crowd. I took a breath to calm my heart and slow the blood rushing in my ears. I focused on the screams and realized they were shouts of names—Taio, Yung, Omira, Kintle. The crowd of people was celebrating the return of the travelers. I understood their joy, but they made so much noise, I wanted to shrink and hide. Even though I had seen the horde of Hollows and knew it was all but impossible another group of them would have the ability to think of crossing the river or possess the understanding of what it would take to coordinate such a crossing, I couldn’t help but feel frightened. A dozen or more had not only been able to imagine crossing the river, but they’d also worked together to do so. Against all odds, they’d succeeded. If it had happened once, it could happen again.

I clamped my mouth shut to keep from ordering everyone to keep quiet so the Hollows would not hear us. Instead, I pushed back in the air boat while Omira, Kintle, and Yung practically leapt off the platform and into the small crowd. They were immediately swallowed into open arms. I looked at Taio, who stood beside me, and shooed him forward with my hand “Go ahead.” He must be longing to be received with open arms by his friends and countrymen.

“We go together.”

I shook my head. I’d rather rappel down the mountain slope to the burning Hollows than step into a crowd like that.

“I will protect you, Mara.”

My shoulders went up immediately. I did not need Taio to protect me. I didn’t need anyone to protect me. “No need.” I took a breath, preparing to step forward, but Taio grasped my hand and moved ahead of me.

“Zulenilo!”

I’d never heard this word before, but the crowd quieted and glanced at him.

“Taio!” One little girl called. Taio smiled at her and winked. Then he gestured to me. When I didn’t step out of the shadows, he tugged. I let myself be led into the light—the city was still lit by a golden glow—wishing I could fix my hair or wipe the soot off my cheeks. In Zulenii, he said, “This is Lady Mara of Hightower. She is a princess of Earsleh.”

Someone gasped and a few people took steps backward.

“She is my bride-to-be, and she is now your sister.”

Taio released my hand and stepped down from the air boat. He left me standing on the platform long enough for everyone to look their fill before offering me his hand. I took it, and he guided me down the steps as though I were a queen.

But instead of being swarmed, as I’d feared, the crowd remained hushed and rooted in place. Still holding my hand, Taio started forward, and the Zulenii parted, leaving a path for us to pass through. As much as I disliked being the center of so much attention, I kept my head held high. My mother would have been proud. As we walked through the people, some reached out and patted Taio’s shoulder or squeezed his free hand. He smiled at several people and inclined his head or spoke their names. No one touched me. In fact, if I passed too close to a person, he or she would lean back to avoid being touched.

I’d imagined what the kingdom of Zulen would be like so many times since leaving my home. As much as the noise and the light unnerved me, it didn’t surprise me. Nor did the markings on the people or their strange dress. Taio and his companions had prepared me for these things. But I hadn’t anticipated that I would be detested or looked at with such naked animosity. I don’t know why I hadn’t expected this reception. I’d looked at Taio, Yung, Omira, and Kintle with loathing when they’d first walked through the streets of Highcastle. I’d given Taio my fiercest scowl. His reaction? A wink.

How had he managed the confidence? I wanted to shrink to the size of a pebble and cover myself with dirt so I could hide. Too late I realized a fault in my education. In Earsleh we were taught that we were exceptional. We were the strongest warriors, the most skilled metallurgists, the kingdom with the most benevolent and just ruler. Perhaps before the red vein virus had been unleashed on the world and people from the five kingdoms were able to move about more freely, I wouldn’t have believed my kingdom so far superior to others. I wouldn’t have expected others to treat me with deference and fawning approbation. I would have expected these people to be as wary of me as I had been—as I was—of them.

But they had another reason to hate me. Taio had told me that the red vein virus—the disease that caused people to turn into Hollows—had been unleashed by my grandfather. Taio also claimed my people held the cure to the red vein virus, written in the secret royal language, only a few of us in the court could read or understand. This was why Taio had come to Earsleh and won me in the Claiming Rite. He needed me to translate the cure from a parchment of paper Leed had stolen from Earsleh decades ago.

How could I blame the Zulenii for hating me when they blamed my father for withholding a cure to the disease wreaking havoc on our whole world? The people parting for us now were only here at the air boat dock to fetch water to put out fires that endangered their city because of my father.

No, I didn’t expect a warm welcome, and I did not receive one. Only Taio’s presence at my side kept these people from expressing their true feelings toward me. Without him, they might have spit on me, beaten me, or torn me limb from limb. In their place, I would have wanted revenge.

When we all passed through the crowd and moved down the hill, Taio led us through winding alleys, each lit by sparkling overhead lamps that cast a shimmering light on the cobblestones. Taio took the lead, his hand in mine, and the others followed. “This was not the way I wanted to show you my home,” Taio said. “I did not imagine we would have to go to the mountain and kill Twilight Men.”

“You thought we’d be greeted by a roaring crowd, singing praises?” I snorted. “That was never going to happen. Your people hate me.”

He stopped and whirled to face me. Omira, who was right behind me, had to dart to the side to avoid running into me.

“My people do not hate you.”

“Did you see what happened back there?” I gestured toward the platform we’d left behind. “If you hadn’t been beside me, they would have torn me to pieces.”

“My people are not a threat to you, Mara,” he said.

“Taio tells the truth,” Omira chimed in. “We eschew violence of any sort. You are safe here.”

“I hope you understand if I hold onto my weapon. Maybe as a people you value non-violence, but it only takes one person who disagrees with that value to come at me with a dagger.”

A look of pain passed over Taio’s face, and too late I remembered how he’d told me his best friend had been killed in an uprising. I did not want to cause him pain, but he couldn’t blame me for not trusting these people easily.

“Would we have given you that weapon if you had something to fear from us?” Taio asked, gesturing to the hammer at my waist. I didn’t answer, mostly because I was thinking that it was Leed—another Earslehen—who had given me the weapon, not a Zulenii. “The people are frightened of you. Like your people, most of mine have never seen an outsider. You look unusual, move differently, and—”

“And they blame me for the Twilight Men and the downfall of civilization.”

“No.”

“Taio, you know she’s right,” Omira said in Zulenii.

“She is not.”

“Not completely,” Omira agreed, “but in no small part.”

“Even we hated her at first,” Yung said. His words were a stab in my chest. Yung had hated me? Yung was the one who smiled at me, who seemed sympathetic to me on the journey here. I would never have guessed he’d hated me.

“We hated all of them,” Omira agreed. “I still hate most of them.”

I kept my mouth closed, not certain if they realized I understood most of what they said. I doubted they would have said anything differently if they knew.

“There is hate,” Taio said, “and there is fear. Sometimes it is difficult to distinguish between the two.”

I couldn’t argue with him. The two emotions did often feel very similar, and fear could lead to hate. In some ways I felt compassion for the people afflicted by the red vein virus. They had not chosen to become Hollows. They had not wanted to become mindless monsters, seeking to feed on human flesh. I feared the Hollows because they could kill me and those I loved. I thought about my half-sister Finnrey, who had been killed by a Hollow on the trek here. I feared more people I cared for would be taken by Hollows, and that made me hate the Hollows. I wanted to do away with the thing I feared so I would not have to experience the emotion any longer.

Taio definitely had a point, but I wasn’t entirely sure it mattered. “I doubt the people back there were watching me walk past and trying to decipher whether they felt fear or hate,” I said in my own language. “Whatever they felt, it wasn’t good.”

“You will change that,” Taio said. “Once you find the cure for the red vein virus, everyone will sing your praises. And I do mean sing. Ballads will be written in your name.”

“I hope not,” I said, trying to imagine how awkward it would be to have to listen to someone sing to me.

My Zulenii friends laughed. “Just wait until the dances in your honor begin.” Omira elbowed me. “You will be so uncomfortable.”

“And that makes you happy?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. She was already feeling like a sister to me. My own half-sisters had liked to tease and embarrass each other. It was a sign of affection—for the most part.

“Come.” Taio took my hand again. “My mother will have heard of our arrival by now.” He pulled me along, walking more quickly.

“I really cannot meet your mother looking like this,” I said as the alleyway widened into a lane. Ahead I could see the Golden Path. That way led to the palace and the queen.

Taio glanced at me. “You look fine. My mother will not care about a little smoke.”

I gave Omira a pleading look. Surely another woman would understand. “I stand with you, Mara, but we cannot keep my mother waiting. She will think you attractive—even with your hair looking like that.”

I touched my hair, trying to smooth it down. Omira snorted with laughter, and I cut her a fierce glower. I’d thought my mother ridiculous for insisting I bring a gown and tertanium necklace in my pack. Now I was grateful. At least I had something suitable to wear at court when I was given the opportunity to bathe and change.

As we walked, I’d noticed more and more people coming out of the buildings lining the streets. Some stood among the columns that seemed to decorate every structure here, and others gathered on second-floor balconies and stared down at us. But when we neared Gold Path, the numbers of people swelled. There must have been more than two hundred Zulenii lining the short distance from where we emerged to Gold House. When I glanced back toward the lake, I saw even more standing in the street and on the side, in rows three deep.

As soon as they spotted Taio, they began to sing. Not only did they sing, they played. My ears were assaulted by the clang of a metal instrument, the strum of a guitara, the thud of a drum, and the high sound like that of someone blowing on a reed or thick piece of grass. Taio waved to the people, acknowledging their song. Was it some sort of anthem? How did they all know the tune and the words? A few people darted out from the crowd and moved rhythmically in front of us. I wasn’t certain if this was a welcome or a warning. I tried to back up, but Taio squeezed my hand and led me forward. Was this dancing? Taio’s people waved their arms and lifted their legs, even kicking them high. It looked almost like a coordinated fight.

The Zulenii danced back into the crowd, throwing me curious looks as I passed them. I peered over my shoulder and caught Omira, Yung, and Kintle dancing and singing too. Their arms were raised and their wrists pivoted back and forth. They seemed to do something between a run and a hop with their legs. And then I looked at Taio, and even he was mouthing the words to the song. I couldn’t understand the words since the sounds were elongated to fit the music, but it sounded triumphal.

Why shouldn’t it be? Their warriors had returned with a prize—and that prize was me.

Why had I ever thought dancers and singers unthreatening? These people were terrifying. I had no idea what they would do next. I had never been among such loud, animated people who seemed to defy all wisdom by cheering and lighting their city even at night when the danger from Hollows was at its peak. But then they’d lived in this protected valley and hadn’t grown up fearful and cautious as I had. Would my people sing and dance if we hadn’t had to live under constant threat?

Finally, after what seemed like hours of not knowing how I was supposed to react to all the singing and dancing and hunching my shoulders awkwardly, we reached the wide doors of Gold House. The marble rectangles that were twice my height had been flung open to reveal a white and gold marble staircase. The gold seemed embedded in the marble, twining its way through the stone and glimmering off the light from above. Two people stood at the entrance in trousers and tunics of white. I assumed these were some sort of courtiers. The man and woman did not have weapons, so they couldn’t be guards. They bowed as we passed through the doors, and I looked up at the ceiling. Thousands of tiny flames were suspended above us, making the entryway appear as bright as daylight. Taio led me toward the staircase, but I glanced right and left as I walked across the gleaming marble floor. White-paneled corridors led deep into the palace, and a few people had emerged from doors and stood on the marble floor to watch us. They smiled, obviously pleased to see us. They wore darker colors—blues and greens—and appeared not to have a uniform as their clothing differed in small ways.

Then they passed out of sight as we climbed higher. The staircase was so wide, all five of us fit across. Taio was in the middle, while I was on his right and Omira beside me. Yung and Kintle were on Taio’s left. “Where are we going?” I whispered as I reached the top of the staircase. I thought I had spoken quietly, but my whisper seemed to echo.

“The receiving room is there,” Taio said, indicating white paneled doors with gold accents. These were not as tall as the doors to the entrance of Gold House, but they still towered above us. They swung open by some mechanism I couldn’t determine, and I gasped as the room was revealed. The chamber was enormous. It might easily fit one hundred people. The gold-veined white marble continued into this room, but plush rugs of deep blue with designs of gold covered the marble floor in some areas where chairs and couches upholstered in cream had been arranged in small groupings. The white-paneled walls in this room were decorated with what I assumed must be art. A canvas splashed with red and yellow took up a large section of wall between two windows. Smaller canvases displayed sketches of people dancing or vases of flowers or fruit trees. On a marble table, a statue of a nude man, arm outstretched, caught my eye. The man was muscled and strong and, though I tried not to look, well-endowed.

“Is that you?” I whispered to Taio.

He glanced at the statue. “No.” Then he winked at me. “But you can compare forms later.”

I felt my cheeks heat and knew they must be bright red just as a woman rose from a throne before one of the windows and raced toward us. This time Kintle grabbed my arm before I could reach for my weapon. “Taio mother,” he said in broken Earlsehen. He stood by my side as both Taio and Omira gave loud cries and rushed into the woman’s arms. She gathered them close, tears streaming down her cheeks as she babbled words that were unintelligible to me.

I looked at Kintle, who was looking at the floor. I followed. This reunion seemed too private, and I did not want to intrude. I had the urge to raise my head and study Taio’s mother further, though. She was a handsome woman, even though she was taller than Omira, which meant she was taller than me. Her hair, a reddish shade of brown, was cropped so short it was spiky in places. Her skin was very pale, but her eyes were a shade of blue I had never seen. They reminded me of the amethyst flowers from home that I always liked. Unlike so many Zulenii, the queen was not dressed in white or gold. She wore dark blue trousers and a sheer top of lighter blue that floated to her hips. Underneath was a gold undergarment.

I peeked up at her now and noted she also wore about a dozen gold bracelets on her arms and long gold earrings. They were not made of tertanium. Every Earslehen child knew how to identify metals from a very young age. I couldn’t say what sort of metal these were—something I had never seen before or crafted by the artists here to give the illusion of metal. They certainly sounded like metal, though, as they clanked and jingled whenever she moved. A Hollow would have no trouble finding her if one managed to gain entrance to this throne room. Or what had Taio called it? A receiving room?

“Yung and Kintle,” the queen said, reaching her hands out to the men beside me. Instead of bowing, both went to her and embraced her. She kissed their cheeks and held them for longer than seemed necessary.

Then they moved aside, and her violet eyes landed on me. Once again, I wished I’d had time to wash and change, but there was nothing for it now. I just hoped I didn’t look as dirt-streaked as I felt.

“And who is this?” she asked in Zulenii.

“Mother, this is Lady Mara of Hightower, daughter of King Wollem the Fifth.”

“Lady Mara,” the queen said, moving toward me. “You are welcome.”

I was afraid she might try to embrace me, so I hastily bowed. “Thank you, my queen,” I said in her language.

She paused mid-stride. “Queen? I am not a queen. I am Onnigh of the First House of Zulen.”

I glanced at Taio, uncertain what I should say. He was a prince, and we were in the throne room of the palace. How was his mother not a queen?

“I should have explained before,” Taio said in my language. “We do not have kings and queens. I will tell more later. You may call her Lady Onnigh.”

“Lady Onnigh,” I said, bowing again.

Omira put a hand on her mother’s sleeve. “She will not like you to embrace her,” she said, voice low. “Her people do not touch.”

I wanted to argue that this was not true, but I didn’t have the words in Zulenii. Also, I did not want to be embraced, so it hardly made sense for me to argue against Omira.

“I see.” She cleared her throat. “Welcome Zulen to you,” she said in my language. Her attempt was probably as poor as my efforts to speak Zulenii, but I appreciated the effort.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile.

“Mama, when did you learn Earslehen?” Taio asked in my language.

But she shook her head and answered in Zulenii. “I asked Leed to teach me a few phrases,” she said with a wide smile. “I wanted to be prepared for when you came home.”

When he came home. Not if. I shuddered to think what might have happened if my father’s plans for Taio and the other Zulenii had come to fruition. His mother would always wonder what had happened to him.

“Come,” Lady Onnigh said, gesturing to a table behind her. I hadn’t noticed it before, but now I saw it was covered with dishes of food and goblets of drink. I was suddenly ravenous. I couldn’t remember when I had last eaten or drank anything. If I had been alone, I would have fallen on the offerings and crammed the strange dishes in my mouth. Instead, I waited for Taio to beckon me to follow them. Then I waited until he gave me a heavy goblet filled with water. The goblet was peneldium. I knew it as soon as I touched the metal. The shine of it was impressive as were the carvings on the base. My people could have made something even more beautiful out of this metal, but we used it for weapons, not drinkware.

I tried to sip the water, but my throat was so dry that I downed half of it in one gulp. I attempted to slow myself, but Taio refilled my vessel without even being asked. The water was so cold and clean that I might have drank the entire pitcher.

“Good water,” Taio said, handing me some sort of bread. “It comes from the mountain.” He gestured toward the windows, and I realized the drapes were drawn and what the windows showed was a rocky mountain face. The light from the retiring room illuminated the mountain, and I could clearly see the trickle of water that rushed down one side, as well as plants and flowers that grew on the rocky outcrops. As I watched, a bird flew to the stream. Was this bird confused by the light? Did birds not sleep during the night? The bird, obviously wide awake, stepped into the stream and flapped its wings in the water.

“Taio!” I grabbed his arm. “That bird is in the water.”

He glanced over. “Yes, birds like to rinse in water.”

I stared at him then back at the water. I had seen few birds, and those I did see flew away as soon as I approached. And yet, this bird seemed unaware of us, though surely we were visible through the glass of the window. “The bird is not afraid of us.”

“Why should it be? We are no threat.” He touched my hand. “Eat, Mara. You are pale.”

Still staring at the bird, who was clearly taking a bath right in front of us, I took a bite of the bread. My eyes widened as I tasted the sweet filling inside. The filling was some sort of berry or jam. I took another bite and then another, finishing the food and looking for more.

“I think she likes it,” said Yung.

“Eat more,” Lady Onnigh said, gesturing to her mouth. “All of you must be so hungry. You look so thin.” She put her arms about Omira’s shoulders and hugged her daughter. A pang of homesickness swept over me as I imagined my own mother holding me like that. Was she wondering what happened to me? If I’d made it to Zulen? Had Gaz returned to Highcastle yet to tell my parents of my betrayal? Would my mother support my father sending an army or would she argue against it?

I sighed. I must speak to Taio of these dangers, but now hardly seemed the time.

Taio gave me a piece of fruit next. It was a yellow-ish color, and the juice was tangy and sweet in my mouth. I ate another piece, only half paying attention as Taio spoke to his mother. I understood enough of what he said to know he was telling her he had won the Claiming Rite, but I was so tired and so hungry I could not force my brain to translate the words anymore. My eyes wanted to close, and my legs felt as though they might give out.

Suddenly, Taio’s arm came about my waist. “Come, Mara,” he said.

“But—” I gestured to his mother and the others.

“Rest now. Converse tomorrow.”

I nodded. “One more roll, please,” I said.

Taio laughed and grabbed a plate, piling food on to it. He said something else to the group then took my hand and led me from the room. As we departed, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lady Onnigh watching me with a hooded expression.

Taio led me up another flight of stairs that was carpeted in blue and tucked around a corner. This was not a public staircase, and it ended on the third floor. “The private chambers are on this level,” Taio said. “Your chamber is at the end.”

I paused and pulled back. “I am not staying in your chamber?” I asked.

“You are welcome in my chamber, but you should have your own.” We started along a dim interior corridor lit with wall sconces. The floors were carpeted here and the walls paneled in dark wood. Unlike the rest of the palace, I spotted no marble or gold. “The chamber of Omira.” Taio gestured to a wide wooden door. We walked on, passing a corridor that led to more rooms, and then Taio paused. He placed a hand on a pair of wooden doors. “My chamber,” he said.

I nodded then yawned and Taio seemed to reluctantly remove his hand from the door to his chamber. We walked on and passed another corridor leading to more chambers and then at the end of the hallway, he stopped before a single wooden door. The wood of the door had been carved so that it looked like a tree trunk. The trunk seemed to extend outward from the door, and the bark looked so real. I reached forward and stroked the tree, but it was smooth. How was that possible? The texture could not just be an illusion. I moved to the side, hoping a different view would give me some insights, but Taio pushed down the door lever and it swung open. The lamps had been lit, and I followed Taio into a large space. My feet sank into a rug of deep green. On my right was a grouping of chairs before a hearth with a crackling fire. On my left was the largest bed I had ever seen. The bed was even larger than my father’s back at home. The wooden frame was the same wood as that of the door, and it had been carved to appear like vines with flowers, birds, and plants emerging.

“This is all for me?” I asked, scanning the room. The walls in here were not wood but some sort of plaster that had been painted with garden scenes. Flowers bloomed and water burst from fountains. I felt as though I could walk into the painting because it was so realistic. No wonder the Zulenii were renowned for their artistry.

“For you,” Taio said. He placed the plate of food on a table beside one of the chairs then walked to the far corner of the room and pushed aside a paper screen to reveal a tub that had been built into the marble floor. A wooden table stood behind it, holding towels and soaps. Above the table was a mirror with a gilded frame. “Allow me.” He bent to the gold levers at one side of the tub and turned them. I gasped as water poured forth.

“What is this magic?”

“Not magic. We have a tank of water below. The turning of these handles draws the water upward. This handle is for cold, and this for hot.” He was looking at me to make certain I understood.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked all about me, my gaze catching on a staircase carpeted in green. “Where does that lead?”

“Upstairs.”

“There’s more?”

He rose and offered his hand. “I will show you.”

I allowed Taio to lead me up the staircase. At the top, I stepped into a smaller chamber also carpeted in green. Here someone had placed a couch in a lighter shade of green as well as a desk of some sort. A large square item with many strings stood in the far corner.

“What is that?” I asked.

“A harpa. It makes music.” He walked over and ran a finger along the strings, causing them to produce a beautiful sound. “In the daylight, you open the curtains,” he said, touching the cream fabric covering the far wall of the chamber. He crossed to where I stood, staring at the upper room, and took my hands. Immediately, my gaze went to him and all that surrounded me faded away. I didn’t really care where I was as long as I was with Taio. Seeing his home allowed me to see him in a new light as well.

“You must have thought we were very primitive,” I said.

He cocked his head.

“When you arrived at Highcastle and saw the village and the castle. We thought you were uncultured and ignorant, but all the while you had come from this”—I gestured to the chamber—“and we must have seemed the unenlightened people.”

He touched my chin. “I never thought of your people in this way. I admire how your people survived the Twilight Men. Your people...how do you say...focus?” He nodded his head. “Focus on survival. We have the time and space to create.” He gestured to the chamber. “But everything comes to an end. You saw the Twilight Men tonight. Some are capable of thinking, learning. If others have this ability or develop it, they too will come for us.”

He was right. The Zulenii had the luxury of safety, which had given rise to art and beauty. But if I couldn’t find a way to cure the red vein virus, that illusion of safety was only that. An illusion.

“You will be fine if I leave you?” he asked.

My hands tightened on his. “Leave?”

“Just for an hour or so. I have much to do.”

Of course he did. In his place, I would have a hundred tasks on my mind. He had been generous to give me this much time. “I will be fine,” I said, trying to smile.

“I will return.” He moved his hands to my arms, rubbing them reassuringly.

“Go.” I stepped back. “I will take a bath and eat something.”

“There will be clothing in the drawers and wardrobe,” he said. “We keep it for guests.”

“Do you have many guests?” I asked.

He laughed. “None like you.” He kissed my cheek, and then he was gone. He’d disappeared down the stairs, and I heard the outer door thud quietly closed.

I stood in the chamber and turned in a circle. I was in a strange land, among people I did not know or really understand. I descended the staircase and peered up at the ceiling of my cavernous chamber.

I had never felt so alone.