Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(65)

“Don’t worry about your friend,” said Altan. “I’ll take care of him.”

Foreboding dripped through me like slime. ::I will not abandon you.::

Before I could wait for another nonresponse, the Luminary Guards moved to corral me toward the door, where Tirta waited, her head down.

I chanced one last look at Aaru as I stepped out of the infirmary, only to catch the deliberate way he turned away from me.

“This way.” Tirta’s voice was soft as she guided me through the halls, the Luminary Guards at our backs. She didn’t ask questions, or try to reassure me. As Altan had promised, she simply took me to a bathing chamber, though not the usual one.

This room was bigger and smelled less like sulfur. Besides the bricked, kidney-shaped pool of steaming water, there were seven stone benches with crossed maces carved into the backs. Three noorestones were embedded into each bench—one above the maces and one on the end of each arm (twenty-one bench noorestones total), and twenty noorestones were planted in sconces around the room.

Noorestones had been so innocuous. Once.

Alone—we’d left the Luminary Guards in the hall—Tirta took my hands and squeezed. Her eyes were wide with confusion. “What’s going on?”

My voice caught in my throat. Too many emotions bombarded me at once. Shock. Joy. Relief. Hope. Anticipation.

Guilt.

How could one person bear the guilt of leaving while her friends could not?

Tears weighed down my eyes. I couldn’t forget Aaru’s immense pain caused by my betrayal. What would Tirta think if she knew how deeply I’d hurt him? And Gerel? Gerel would be furious when she found out. All her worst thoughts about me were coming true.

“All right,” Tirta said when I couldn’t find my voice. “Let’s do this quickly, before they come in to get us.”

I glanced over the new bathing chamber again. The table in the back held a pitcher of water, condensation gathering on the glass, and a pair of cups. There was even a plate with grapes, orange wedges, and strawberries arranged in three neat rows. Baskets on the benches held soaps, cloths, and hairbrushes.

Tirta followed my gaze. “Sometimes they use this room to reward prisoners for good behavior. Not usually first-level prisoners, though.”

This definitely wasn’t a reward.

Careful of the bandages on my back, I shed my grimy clothes and tossed them in a corner. The Luminary Council had sent a simple dress for me, along with all the other comforts from home.

“Which soap do you want?” Tirta asked. “There are several scents.” She said it like it mattered. Like we were girls living in Crescent Prominence with nothing better to do. But she rattled off the various fragrances and I chose one that Krasimir had always said worked nicely with my natural scent.

She handed me a basket filled with the wonders of my past. Shea butter and honey soap. Orange blossom and jasmine hair cream. Three soft linen cloths. A wide-handled comb with all the tines. Even a peel for my face. When Tirta poured a glass of water, I drank the whole thing down in long gulps. The fruit followed shortly.

Carefully, I let out what remained of Ilina’s twists. The ends of my hair were ragged and needed a trim, but that wasn’t the worst: brittle pieces broke off and scattered in the water. A strained whimper squeaked out of me.

“It’s just stress,” Tirta said. “It’s living in this place. Not being able to take care of yourself properly.”

“But—”

“No one will notice.” She went to the table and picked up two jars. “Look, we can make it nice again. You tell me what’s going on, and I’ll help with your hair.”

I gave her the comb and closed my eyes as I forced out a short summary of the last two days.

She lowered her voice as she smoothed creams into the mistreated strands of my hair. “Mira, do exactly as they say. Don’t be brave. Just be smart.”

If only I knew what being smart in this situation entailed.

“You’re getting out, though. That’s good.” She smiled, but if she thought I couldn’t tell how strained it was, she was wrong. “I knew they couldn’t keep you here forever. You’re too important.”

“No one has said how long this will be. They might send me back.”

She shook her head. “You’re Mira Minkoba. The Hopebearer.” She always said that with such sincerity; it ached. “I bet this was all a cruel lesson and your life will go back to the way it was before.”

My life could never go back. I knew too much. I’d lived through too much. “What about you?” I asked. “And all the others?”

She lowered her eyes. “There’s no hope for the rest of us. All we can do is try to make the most of what we have here.”

Finally, I was clean. With my hair pulled into a loose bun, and a soft red dress covering my aching body, I hugged Tirta—”I won’t forget you,” I whispered—and left the room.

The Luminary Guards took me through the Pit, into an immense hallway I’d never seen before.

Bright noorestones illuminated heavy banners all bearing Khulan’s crossed maces, gold on red. Columns loomed on either side, with statues and glass-encased weapons in between. It reminded me of the grand hall, where I’d first seen the true glory of the Heart of the Great Warrior, but this, if anything, was bigger. Even more impressive.