The Star-Touched Queen (The Star-Touched Queen #1)(30)

“When you finish, you have the evening to yourself,” said Gupta, scrutinizing the scrolls before him. “I would be happy to show you my collection of record keeping on the distribution of leaves per branch. It’s one of my more noteworthy accomplishments.”

I glanced down the halls. Again, that voice from the charred door rustled against me. The air prickled with invisible heat and magic. Gupta continued talking, but his voice ebbed in and out, splashing against a rhyme I couldn’t catch no matter how hard I strained—

Oh, the treacherous moon, dear queen, please—

“Did I ever tell you about the time I interviewed a mollusk? Fascinating—”

—free me, find me, hidden in the tree, if you—

“—hungry more often than naught, which is—”

My pulse slowed. A sharp pain turned the colors bright and sickening. I couldn’t even feel the rugs beneath my feet. My toes felt like they were sinking into damp, gritty sand. Water lapping at my ankles. A name crouched in my throat. A name I should have been screaming, but couldn’t recall. The voice from the charred door was a plea and all I knew was that I had to leave this room. I had to find the door.

I stood up, knocking my chair over behind me.

Whatever spell of pain had clung to me broke instantly. I looked down and saw the silk rug. Gupta stared, a little confused. I needed to get out. I needed to distract him.

“Why don’t we play a game of riddles?” I said suddenly. “I’ll stand outside and let you think. When you’re ready, call my name. Yes?”

Gupta sat up straighter, his head tilting bird-like to one side. “What riddle?”

“I’ll give you three. You seem like you’d be very good at them.”

Gupta beamed. “I have been known—”

“Excellent,” I said quickly. “I am a nightmare to most, and a dream for the broken; who am I? Next riddle. I am your future, who am I?”

Gupta silently repeated them. “And the last?”

“I hide the stars but am frightened by the sun. I am not the night, who am I?”

“Delightful!” said Gupta, clapping his hands. “You’ll stay outside?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

He gave a distracted nod, and I slipped out of the dining room.

Curiosity sharp as frissons of heat ran up my spine. I tried calling out to the voice, but there was nothing. Alone, I was beginning to think it was nothing more than the palace’s quirks. Both Amar and Gupta had said the palace would test me. Perhaps this was nothing more.

I looked around. The great corridors of Akaran unfurled before me like a stone maze and I took off down one of the paths, fingers trailing along the walls and murals. Moonlight flooded the palace, wiping away its solemnity and filling it with a cold, twinkling beauty.

Gupta had been right yesterday. I did mind the silence. It felt too controlled. When he spoke of the palace, he made it sound like it was a sentient being, something that could hop and shuffle, talk back and frown. I hadn’t believed him, but I was beginning to. Everything about the palace felt deliberate.

Some of the mirrors around me were lit up with life. A few of the cities inside them were deep in sleep, with a slim moon keeping vigil over their slumber. And then there were the mirrors with darker scenes …

Wars and flags of countries I didn’t recognize. A burning smell, as if it could stretch through the silvery portals and spill into Akaran. I never saw anyone in these reflections; the portals were like a bird’s-eye view looking down. But I still saw the fires. I still saw the horses pounding the ground beneath them, moving out of sight, far beyond the edges of the mirrors.

Up ahead, the white marble floors of the palace had given way to shiny lacquered wood. I walked forward, sure that I could hear Gupta’s voice if he called. Unlike the bare stone walls of the throne room or main hallways, these walls were giant mirrors, darkened with time and peeling to reveal the silver beneath them.

Beneath the shadow of a large arch, something glittered. I stared into the darkness, but saw nothing but a pale wooden door cracked open. The stone was cool beneath my feet and tendrils of light snaked past me, pooling into silver puddles before bringing the room into full view. My eyes widened—

Before me was a twinkling garden. But instead of potted plants and wilting flowers, every piece of this garden was bright and translucent, like it had been carved from glass. I leaned forward … it was carved of glass. From the stately banyan tree with its ropy leaves to the ashwagandha shrub and its bright red fruit, everything was glass and crystal. I walked in a daze through the labyrinth of crystal plants and lightly touched the cool stems. I stroked the glassy tendrils of an amla plant and laughed as emerald vines glittered and brushed against my skin.

But not even the crystal plants were as lovely as the soft blooms of light winking and disappearing into the translucent vines and petals. Thousands of lights blinked in and out, whooshing and whirling around the plants so that everything seemed wrought of light and glass. It was beautiful. I turned around, taking in the full view of the garden. Moonlight had teased away the shadows and my world had become dream-soft and slicked in glass. For the first time since coming to Akaran, I felt at peace.

“What are you doing here?” thundered a voice behind me.

I nearly jumped. Even without turning, I knew who the voice belonged to: