The Library of Fates(33)

Just then, the boy smiled and stood up, opening the door to his home, nodding at me.

Thala and I glanced at each other, and we bounded through the door.

“Thank you!” I yelled at him. I reached into my bag to pull out a handful of coins, but he shook his head, refusing my money.

“It is my duty, Devi,” he said, quietly closing the door behind him.

I stood before him, stunned by his kindness, wondering at his calling me Devi, but Thala grabbed my hand before I had a chance to say anything more. We ran through the small house till we arrived on the other side. A back doorway led us to another cobblestone lane on the far side of the slope. It was quieter here, almost as though we had arrived in another land. I turned to look back at the boy just as we rounded the corner, and he was still standing there, frozen, watching us with a look of wonder across his face.

“Come on, we have to keep moving,” Thala insisted. “We’re safe for now, but we have to come up with a plan.”

“Okay. I just need a minute to breathe,” I said, carefully tucking the dagger back into my satchel and closing my eyes.

When I opened them, Thala was looking straight ahead, pointing to something, silently laughing.

“What is it?” I followed her gaze.

She was pointing to a tiny storefront, barely discernible. I might have easily walked by without noticing it, as a handful of people quietly wandering the hilltop did.

In the front was a small sign: “Meena Amba, Cartographer.”

“The cartographer Mala was talking about . . . do you think that could be it?”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask.” Thala shrugged.

We dodged through the front door, slamming it shut behind us, both of us hiding behind a bookshelf. I glanced out the window as Nico’s men hastily ran by.

I sat down next to her, a wave of relief washing over me, grateful that we were out of harm’s way, if even for a moment.

“Can I help you?” a sharp voice asked, snapping me back into attention.





Fourteen



I LOOKED AROUND THE SMALL, well-appointed room. The walls were made of wood, and timber beams ran across the ceiling. Carved into the mahogany walls were shelves filled with large leatherbound books. It took me a second to realize that we were inside a tree, branches poking out of the walls to hold up lanterns lending an orange glow to the dim space.

Every surface was covered with maps—blue maps and brown maps and green maps. Maps tumbling off tables and mounted on walls, falling out of half-opened trunks, loose rolls of maps lined up against the door, stacks of atlases, and every type of globe I had ever seen. There were glass orbs, spheroids made of wood, black and blue marbles of the constellations in the sky. I was mesmerized by it, this room brimming with order and topography: a chamber of answers.

“We’re not open to the public today.” Her voice was sharp, and she wore fitted black trousers and black leather boots. Her shirt, too, was tailored like a man’s shirt. Her dark hair was tied neatly into a bun, and she had a face that radiated intelligence. It was hard to tell how old she was, but there was an air of sophistication about her that made me stand up straight.

I was still entranced by my surroundings when I answered her. “I’m . . . I’m so sorry, but we’re in trouble, and I think you know my friend . . .”

She glanced at me, confused. “And what friend would that be?” she said, putting on her glasses and looking me up and down.

“Mala,” I said, tugging at the scarf that covered my face.

She started. “How do you know Mala?”

“She’s my lady-in-waiting . . . she was my lady-in-waiting.” I hesitated a minute, thinking about the last time I had seen Mala and trying not to cry. “She told us to come find you.”

“This is Amrita, princess of Shalingar,” Thala interjected, “and my name is Thala. This is going to sound unusual, but the palace is under siege—”

But the woman stood up. “I don’t know who you are or what kind of joke this is, but you must leave now.”

“Please,” I said, glancing down at my filthy clothes, the half moons of my fingernails filled with dirt, my hair crusted with sand. No wonder she didn’t believe me. “I know what you must think. Two girls looking lost and disheveled arrive at your doorstep claiming to be royalty. But I really am Princess Amrita. I have no place to go, and the kingdom is in grave danger. Mala mentioned a cartographer, and—how many cartographers are there in the kingdom anyway?”

“I’m the only cartographer in Shalingar,” she said.

“What can I say to you that would make you believe me?”

“I need proof.”

I thought for a moment before I showed her the ring Arjun had given me. “My friend Arjun gave me this. He’s the son of Bandaka and Shree, my father’s advisors. He used to come into Shalingar quite a bit. You must have met him.”

She looked at me with suspicion in her eyes, and I sensed that she knew Arjun, but she eventually shook her head. “You could have stolen that.”

I took a deep breath. “What about this?” I pulled a diamond-studded shoe from my satchel, and even though her eyes widened, she shook her head again, this time vehemently.

“I don’t even want to know where that came from, but I’ll pretend I didn’t see it. I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but I can’t.”