The Final Strife - Page 102

Here and now, and so we live.

Anoor shivered, though the morning was warm, her own singing haunting her. She thought again of the warden library. What if there was something in there that could tell her more about the Ending Fire?


Anoor wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she looked out of the window, but she saw a murky orange smudge in the distance. It was Sylah, walking with sure and confident steps up through the courtyard below. Anoor let out a sigh of relief, followed by a hum of jealousy and tightening in her chest. Where had Sylah been?

Anoor wrapped her arms around herself and clung onto her elbows. It was time for a bath. It solved everything. Plus, she didn’t want Sylah to think she’d been waiting for her to come home.

She poured a generous amount of scented oil into the marble tub. The pipes were adorned with various runes, and the plumbing was connected to a vat in the kitchens that pushed water straight into the bath.

As it filled up, Anoor collected her ointments and sponges. She chimed out a laugh when she realized half of them had been emptied by Sylah. She ought to have been more annoyed, but the memory of Sylah using shampoo as body lotion put a smile on her face.

Anoor was beneath the suds when Sylah finally made her way up to her chambers. From her light footsteps she clearly thought Anoor would still be asleep.

Anoor had left the privy door open and called through it.

“Good night?” Anoor tried to sound light in an attempt to hide the tension that had kept her up all evening. Sylah hated when Anoor showed emotion.

Sylah’s tired face appeared through the doorway. She scowled when she saw where Anoor was.

“Get out, we’re going for a run.”

“No, we’re not, I’m taking a day off today. And by the looks of it, you should too.”

Sylah’s scowl deepened, though Anoor noted how beautiful she looked, even with her smudged makeup and still fully clothed in the now crumpled orange suit she had given her. “My body isn’t functioning entirely like it used to. I may have tried someone’s home brew…”

“I told you that your withdrawal is going to last a while.”

“I wouldn’t have to if it wasn’t for you.”

Anoor didn’t have the mental stamina to engage in the same fight again and again. The silence was filled with the sound of Anoor topping up the tub with hot water.

Sylah watched the water swirl with gleaming, tired eyes. Anoor couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the cause of her exhaustion was. The tightness in her chest returned.

“There’s room enough for two, you know. You look like you need it,” Anoor suggested, her eyes downcast.

“I’ll wait until you’ve finished if that’s okay with you.” There was a fleeting look of what Anoor thought was disgust on Sylah’s face. It made her dip deeper in the water. Every day Anoor got more and more curious about Sylah. Where had she grown up? Who was this man to her?

“Who was he?” she blurted out without thinking.

Sylah didn’t answer for a while. “An old family friend.”

“Where do you know him—”

Sylah shut the bathroom door with a bang, leaving Anoor with the silence of her thoughts.


When Sylah woke, Anoor had gone, but her maddening scent had remained. Sandalwood, it was everywhere.

A fresh jug of water was on the nightstand next to the bed. Sylah ignored the glass and downed the jug in a few gulps. Her head was pounding behind her eyes, and she was sorely tempted to go back to sleep. It wasn’t until she heard the clockmaster cry second strike that she realized that she’d missed her daily meeting with Jond.

“Oh, shit, I hope he doesn’t read into that.” First, she’d snuck out at first light without telling him, then she’d missed their daily lesson on bloodwerk. She let her head fall back onto the pillow, and her brain rattled in her skull.

The door opened without a knock.

“I’m not an idiot, I know you went to the banquet last night,” Gorn trumpeted into the room, and Sylah groaned.

Tags: Saara El-Arifi Fantasy
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