Girl, Serpent, Thorn(82)

The gates of Golvahar opened for her, and she was relieved to find the gardens unchanged. Still, the sounds of screaming in her head grew louder here, and she could see invisible bodies on the lawn, where soldiers had fallen.

They’ll never forgive you, said a voice in her mind. But she hadn’t returned here for forgiveness. She had broken something, and now she had to fix it as best as she could.

The divs set the litter down at the palace steps where Azad stood tall, waiting for her. He came forward to help her up, and remembering what he had said to her last night, she tried not to let her contempt show on her face.

He asked about her journey, to which she replied politely in turn and told him she was tired and wanted to rest. He led her to her room—a path that felt unfamiliar to her, because she was so accustomed to using the passageways.

The room was as she’d last left it. She had told Azad she was tired so he wouldn’t expect her to make conversation, but at the sight of her bed, she realized how true it was, how inexpressibly tired she felt. She wanted to sink into this room like it was a bath and let it strip away all memories of the mountain.

She waited for Azad to leave, but he was staring at her expectantly, until finally he said, “Don’t you want to know when the execution will be?”

“Of course,” she said. “I’m just so exhausted, I can barely think.”

His gaze softened. “Yes, I understand. But everything will be easier from now on—you’ll see. Tomorrow, before sunset, we’ll take care of your brother, and this ordeal will be over.”

She managed a smile, which seemed to satisfy him, and then he left. She heard the click of a key in the lock after the door was shut.

When she was finally alone, she went first to the hidden door in the wall on the slightest chance that he had forgotten to seal it shut. But he hadn’t forgotten, of course, nor had he forgotten to bar the doors leading out to the golestan. A beam blocked the handles from the outside, so that she could only push the doors open a crack.

At first sight, she had thought nothing in the room had been changed since she was last here, but as soon as she began to scan the room for anything useful, she saw that wasn’t true. Her hand mirror was gone, as were her bottles and vials of fragrances and a crystal vase. Anything breakable—anything that could create shards or sharp edges—had been removed, so that she couldn’t use them as weapons.

My gardening tools. Soraya hurried to the bed and knelt down, reaching underneath to see if Azad had been thorough enough to find her shears and other tools wrapped in leather under the bed. The tools were gone—but Soraya’s hand met something else instead. Something soft and made of cloth, like a rag …

Or a blanket.

From beneath the bed, she pulled out the blanket of stars that had set her on her path of destruction. She laid it flat in front of her, remembering now that she had taken it with her from her mother’s room and buried it under the bed. Her fingers brushed over the stiffened patches of blood on the fabric. And then her hand froze as she realized that Azad had mistakenly left her the most powerful weapon of all.

Are you curious to know how it’s done? It’s the blood of a div that made you poisonous. If a human bathes in blood from a div’s heart, that human takes on the properties of that div. You must have had only a few drops.

Would it be enough? The stains on the blanket were old and long dried. She would have to soak the blanket to get any use out of the blood, and even then, she had no idea if it would still be effective. If it were, though, then she could curse herself anew and become poisonous once more. But what if I can’t reverse it again? The simorgh was not in such easy reach that she could safely depend on using her feathers to lift the curse—and she knew better now than to take one of the simorgh’s feathers without her permission. What if the simorgh found her unworthy of such a gift? Would Soraya still be willing to make this choice?

Soraya’s mouth went dry, her eyes locked on the blanket with such focus that the stars began to blur. Would her poison be enough to stop the Shahmar? Parvaneh had told her previous attempts to kill him had failed, or even made him stronger, but her mother had trusted in this poison to keep her daughter safe from him. Before she had used the feather, Azad had always been careful not to touch her … and at the very least, she would have a way to defend herself against the other divs. She had no other plan, no other option. If she didn’t do this, she would very likely have to kill her brother and rule with Azad, or else watch her family die.

She was running her fingertips over the fabric without even realizing it, as if her hands knew what she was thinking and were trying to remind her of what she would be giving up. Her mother’s arms around her. The flutter of moth wings against her skin. Parvaneh.

But Parvaneh would sleep forever if Soraya didn’t do something to help her. As for her mother, Soraya already knew what choice she would make. And Tahmineh was the only person Soraya knew who had beaten the Shahmar at his own game.

Are you like your mother? Parisa had asked her.

Soraya clutched the blanket in her hands. Yes, she thought. Yes, I still am.

She shoved the blanket back under the bed, went to the door, and began pounding her fists on it as loudly as she could. Within seconds, the door opened, and a div with spotted fur like a leopard’s stood frowning at her. “Yes?” the div said.

“I’d like a bath,” Soraya told her.