Prism (Lost Road Chronicles #3) - Hardcover

I headed out, trekking straight up the red road toward the market street of Emeya—the fastest, though least appealing, path to the Academy. Halfway down the road from the megaf I could already smell incense and the warm, tantalizing aroma of chedri. A line of people stood outside the tiny building, chatting idly as they waited. It reminded me so much of a lunch-break rush on a coffee shop that I had to smile. I ignored my watering mouth and hugged the flaps of my cloak around me, trying a little too hard to look inconspicuous.

I thought I’d gotten well clear of the café when a hand dropped on my shoulder.

“Oh, Tiiva.”

Oh, no.

I cringed and turned around, and found myself face to face with Kayim, gap-teeth shining behind his Texas-wide smile.

“Tiiva, right? I haven’t seen you around! I wondered if maybe you had left Emeya without saying goodbye.”

“Oh,” I stammered, and thought, Like I’d go out of my way. “Well, I haven’t been on this side of the city since I arrived.” I lowered my voice conspiratorially and added, “I thought it might have been a mistake to come! I’ve been just terrified to even leave the house!”

He made a sympathetic noise. “I know. I can’t blame you for that. But you survived the attacks and the fire, so that’s good. Hopefully the worst is over now.”

He watched me carefully the whole time he spoke, and I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t really think he had identified me, unless Kayro…

“You know, Tiiva, I almost didn’t recognize you without your dakra on.”

I swallowed, trying not to panic as I hunted for an excuse. I lost it? It blew away in the…nonexistent wind? Someone stole it? I was in disguise? Hey, that sounds pretty good.

“Kayim,” I whispered, and his grin got ten times bigger when he realized I remembered his name, “the reason I came to Emeya was because I was trying to get away from the man my father wanted me to marry.”

He nodded enthusiastically, then his eyes glittered at me and he said, “Well, I never thought Tiiva of Bokara was an atze.” His gaze drifted over me, thoughtful, and without actually looking I could only hope I’d managed to keep the front of my cloak closed. “So, Tiiva, what are you?”

“What am I?” I echoed, baffled. “That’s rather insulting.”

I swallowed hard as I realized I was echoing Aymir, too.

“Was it true, what my brother said about you?”

No sense in lying about that one. “I remember what he called me. And no. I’m no Shadow.”

“A spy of another variety? Were you in the rebellion?”

“Interestingly, no,” I said, taking a small step toward him. “But your brother got roped into Khalith’s service, didn’t he?”

“He did not!” Kayim cried, eyes wide. “How did you…” His voice dropped. “How would you even know such a thing?”

“Was he or wasn’t he helping Khalith?”

Kayim darted a glance over the market street, frowning. “Listen, you seem to know more about that than you’re supposed to. But I really don’t want to talk about it out here.”

“Likewise,” I said.

He measured me, lips pursed, all the light and humor gone from his eyes. Finally he nodded toward the street.

“All right, then. Come on.”

He started off and I followed after a moment, curious but not very worried. Kayim seemed uneasy, but not hostile. He walked fast, head bent, hands folded in the wide sleeves of his shirt. Obviously he had no intention of talking on the way. I hurried along beside him, watching as we passed out of the market district and into the nobles’ quarter. Interesting. I wondered if he knew someone who lived there. I’d never even considered where a crime lord would live.

After a bit of a walk we arrived at a smallish but well-kept house near the city’s western wall, unremarkable either by shabbiness or luxury. Kayim didn’t go to the front door, but slipped around behind to a gated veranda. Flowering vines draped over every inch of the lattice roof, and under its shade were half a dozen potted plants and as many colorful bruhvir, all circling a short-legged coal burner like a tiny grill. 

“Sit, please.”

I did, trying to keep my cloak wrapped close as I sat down. Kayim seated himself in the bruhv next to mine, leaning back with his head propped on his elbow so he could see me.

“Now we can talk.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Kayro thought there was something different about you,” he said, waving a finger at me.

I surveyed him skeptically, wondering what had ever possessed me to think of him as adorable. Whatever ruse he’d pulled, acting like an awkward, normal guy, it had definitely worked. This Kayim was a totally different person.

“I’m ashamed to say I didn’t realize the same about all of you,” I said.

“Oh, we’re all quite ordinary, really.”

“Right,” I said. “Ordinary little crime lords. All around good neighbors and public-minded citizens.”

“You do know quite a lot, don’t you?” He crossed his legs at the ankles and tucked both hands behind his head. “All right. I admit it. You know the truth about me, now how about returning the favor and telling me who you really are?”

“I’d really rather not.”

“I wonder why. Let’s see, a stranger arriving in the city the very same time Shenakha was said to have returned. Doesn’t know what chedri is, even though every hovel from Alcalon to Mazafi has a chedri pot. Walks and talks like a Shadow. Has dealings with the Watchers. Disappears in the middle of a political upheaval. And someone who looks so very like my dear friend Tiiva appears on the dais with the High King just a few days ago…”

“What are you getting at?” I snapped, annoyed that he’d been at the plaza that day, and that he remembered me well enough to recognize me up there.

“Draw your own conclusions.”

“I’d rather you did.”

“I have no quarrel with the Subverter,” Kayim said, closing his eyes.