What’s worse is I haven’t been able to sleep well. The dreams like to come at dawn, not the dead of night, but when my mind drifts in semiconscious anxiety. One could blame what happened on that pier, but the red room dream has haunted me for weeks. The dreams aren’t what one would call normal. I’m not running, falling, or being hunted down by the Vencrin. No, I’m sitting in a blurry red room where my surroundings bleed. It’s always quiet until I’m hissed at to do one thing: “Perform the royal ceremony. Become Adraa Belwar.”
When I try to argue that I am already Adraa Belwar, the voice repeats itself, until the words swirl like the walls. “There’s only one way. I have only one way. Perform the ceremony.”
I awaken one of two ways, shouting or with my throat hurting like I already have been.
Twenty-nine days until my royal ceremony.
I enter the sick bay and turn left on instinct. I offer a wave to a few of our long-term patients. Some are here because of Bloodlurst. It’s odd that only these people connect my face to my position in life, at least for the next twenty-nine days. Then all of Belwar will know exactly what Adraa Belwar looks like.
Off to the left is a private room, and behind its door I’ll find Riya. I ease the door open, so as not to startle her. She’s wearing all light blue today. I wonder if she does that subconsciously when she’s going through bad days.
In his cocoon lies Riya’s father, Mr. Burman, my old guard, and the best teacher I’ve ever had. My mother’s pink magic swims over his head, diving into his mouth and nose to supply oxygen and hopefully reengage activity.
“I was looking for you,” I whisper to Riya.
She glances up. “Sorry, I was…” She gestures to her dad.
“I know. It’s fine.” Today’s the first of the week. She always gets like this at the first of the week. Mr. Burman had a saying that good things happen even at the beginning if one embraces the start of something new. He had sayings for everything.
I pull a chair forward, roll up my sleeve, and cast.“Pravleah.”For a moment my mother’s pink magic glows a little brighter with red. Then everything falls back to normal. I’ve cast that spell about 196 times, not that I’m counting.
Riya squeezes her dad’s hand, then gathers me up in her eyes. A look of thanks switches to alert confusion in two seconds flat. “What in Wickery is that?”
“What’s what?”
“This.” Riya shoves the rest of my sleeve up my arm, exposing the scar from the Vencrin ship attack. “Oh Gods, Adraa!”
The jagged scar looks less angry now, only a stoic light line on my dark skin, but for Riya it’s new and surely disturbing. “I…my knife slipped when I was gutting a pig for the clinic.”
Riya lurches backward in her chair and frowns so deeply her mouth pops open. “Why are you lying?”
“Lying?”
“Yes. Lying. Youarelying. Unless you are saying your own purple spell cut into you for fifty centimeters before you pulled back and thought, ‘Ouch, that hurts.’ ”
Blood, just like her mother. A small part of me is impressed and proud to have Riya as my guard and friend for her reasoning abilities. But that small part doesn’t wash away my fumbling as I search for a reason for the scar and why I would lie about it.
“It only sounds like a lie because I’m embarrassed about it. I should be better than that.”
“Adraa, what’s going on?” She pauses. Blood, I can tell her mind is gnawing away. Her next words are quiet, measured. “Tell me you aren’t bloodletting yourself to Dloc.”
“No!” I pause as well, searching for a way to throw her off. “Why? You think that would work?” I joke. I haven’t heard that term thrown around in ages. Bloodletting. While it might still happen in Moolek, here it’s considered a barbaric practice to win a god’s favor. Mother doesn’t even like to give up the goats for traditional events. “A body saved from disease is better utilization of that goat than watching it bleed on the temple floor,” she always says. Such a Pire Island mentality.
Riya eyes me warily. “So it was a mistake?”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” I say, knowing she will hear the truth in that at least.
“And you didn’t heal yourself right away because…?”
I unroll the sleeve and wipe my hands on my pink skirt. “Didn’t think it was bad enough. I was wrong.” I get up to leave, seeking escape. I can only lie to Riya so much before she rips the truth from me. Her mother taught her how to truth cast after the accords became law. Even I don’t know the spell, for ethical reasons and balances of power. And that scares me when I guard such a horrendous secret from her. Secrets. Plural, now.
She calls out as I lay my hand on the doorknob. “Where are you going? You came looking forme,remember?”
“Oh, right.” I turn back to her. “I have to deliver firelight to Azure Palace today. Wondered when you were free.”
Riya’s eyes widen as she scrambles from her chair. I guess I should have used this earlier to distract her. “You are meeting Raja Jatin today?”
I shrug, but inside I’m twisted up with worry.