Spin the Dawn(32)

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Much as I resented him, Edan was right about the weather. Soon after dusk, the clouds darkened. Thunder boomed, followed by streaks of lightning ripping across the sky. Rain pattered against the roof, and I quickly moved my jacket away from the windows and shut them.

I prayed the paint would dry despite the humidity. I’d spent a small fortune on the color, a deep violet that was one of A’landi’s most prized exports on the Great Spice Road.

“Where’s Norbu?” I asked Longhai. “His jacket’s not here.”

“I haven’t seen him. Neither has Yindi.” Longhai took a swig from his gourd, a larger one than his previous—a “gift” from Norbu, I suspected. “Hope he’s not caught in the rain.”

I didn’t have time to worry about Norbu. I set my jacket on my table and inspected it with a critical eye. Stiff enough to stand on its own, the jacket had rippling sleeves and an embroidered collar like in the Freverish courts, and tonight I would twine strips of silk into its lace belt. Every detail was a marriage between one end of the Spice Road and the other.

Not bad. Best of all, I’d made it by myself with no help from any special scissors.

But think of what you could’ve done with the scissors, my inner voice nagged me.

I ignored it. If Lady Sarnai discovered that I was using magic, I would be dismissed.

Then again, if I lost the trial, I’d be sent home. There were four of us left now. Surely there’d be at least one more challenge before an imperial tailor was chosen?

I worked late, long after Longhai and Yindi had gone to bed, and the warm rain tinkling down the roofs became a patter, then a mist. Since no one was here, I decided to try on my jacket to make sure the belt would hold the paper folds together. As I tied the belt about my waist, a black hawk with white-tipped wings cried out and circled in the night sky.

“There it is again!” I peered out the window, but it’d already flown out of sight. I slipped outside to look for the bird.

Shadows crawled over the palace grounds, and the round red lanterns that lit the corridor beamed like glowing stars. In the distance I heard crickets chirping, and the soft rustle of the wind against the trees. The hawk was nowhere to be seen.

Disappointed, I suddenly became aware that I’d forgotten my cane and had worn my jacket out of the hall. I slipped it off, and as I turned back, a terrible sight made me gasp.

Smoke. Not from the kitchens, but billowing out of the Hall of Supreme Diligence. The hall was on fire!

I dropped my jacket and dashed for the nearest fire bell. “Fire! Fire!”

Still shouting, I pulled open the door. Flames danced near Yindi’s worktable. I saw his jacket hanging on one of the wooden screens, and Longhai’s stretched out on his table. They’d be ruined if I didn’t do something!

Barreling inside was not the smartest thing to do, but I did it anyway, ignoring the pain from the pebble in my shoe and racing to rescue their jackets.

I grabbed them and hurried toward the door. The ground smoldered under my feet, and the smoke was thick, searing my lungs and obscuring my sight.

Disoriented, I spun. I’d made sure to leave the door open when I entered, but now it was closed!

I threw my body against it, but it wouldn’t budge.

I pushed again, grunting. “Let me out!” I shouted, coughing into my sleeve. “Someone, anyone—help!”

Flames licked the wooden stand on which one of the Three Sages stood. The wood beneath it creaked and snapped. Like bones breaking. The giant statue rumbled and toppled onto the ground. It rolled, faster and faster—toward me.

Nowhere to run. I climbed onto a table and leapt for the lantern hanging above me. It swung, barely strong enough to hold my weight. I kicked up my dangling feet just as the Sage bowled beneath me into the fire.

The lantern snapped, and I tumbled onto the table.

Smoke filled my lungs. Coughing, I swerved toward the closest window—one that, thank Amana, had no screens. I pushed the jackets out first, then squeezed my body through, but the pattern of the latticework caught at my hips.

No, no, no. I wriggled. I panicked. So close.

“Norbu?” I shouted, seeing a figure outside. “Norbu, is that you?”

No answer.

I sucked in my stomach and drove my hips through the window. With one last push, I rolled away from the hall, panting and struggling to catch my breath. Then I saw Norbu coming out of the shadows.

“Norbu!” I shouted. “Thank Amana you’re—”

Norbu stepped on my wrist, pinning my hand to the ground.

Squirming, I kicked and cried, “Norbu, what are you—”

I stopped. He was carrying one of the heavy metal pans we used for smoothing our fabrics. I tried to yank my wrist away, but he was too strong. Too quick.

He raised the pan high, then brought it crashing down onto my hand.

Pain shot up from the tips of my fingers and flooded my brain. I screamed, but Norbu’s other foot covered my mouth, muffling the sound before it pierced the commotion behind us.

The last thing I saw was Norbu slipping out behind the hall. Then everything went black.





CHAPTER TWELVE


I couldn’t move my hand. It felt like a pincushion, punctured by scorching needles from every side. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and my heart beat so fast I could hardly breathe. I tried to scream, but my mouth was gagged.