The Serpent's Veil

Heart

While the Barmakis remained entrenched in a war council with the Emirs in the hall of private audience, Khayzuran ran from where she sat in a little alcove by the hall's entrance to the western gate of the residence, where she knew Tahir would come. It was almost an hour later that he arrived, and he could not hide his shock at seeing her there.

She watched him dismount, hand the stable boy his horse, and approach her apprehensively.

"I thought Khalid was concocting stories when he told me you had somehow 'escaped' from the harem," he said. They fell into step beside each other easily, mentor and student. "Where is Yahya?"

"He is in a war council, trying to discuss where to move security in the east and the north. It's not important," she said, impatient. "We must go to Prince Rehan at once, I will take you there."

Tahir's expression turned grave. He had only a vague image of his injury from the letter Sharan had sent, but the tone of it—erratic and genuinely afraid—made him rush his way to Rey at twice their normal speed, hardly letting the horses rest or drink, hardly sleeping through the night.

"How is he faring?"

"He was on the verge, but he survived the first night, and the second. He has an excellent physician."

They quickened their pace once they entered the halls, Khaya leading them swiftly onward to where she knew Rehan lay. Even when all was quiet and the room was unguarded she had not dared enter, and now, the door itself loomed like a mountain in front of her, insurmountable and vast.

The shadow was there when they turned into the hall, standing with his hands behind his back and staring at the opposite wall as if it were the most entertaining slab of marble he had ever lain eyes on. He noticed their approach, noticed Yahya was not with them.

"Zala sahib, this is Commander Tahir al-Barmaki," she said.

The shadow bowed. "I know who he is," he said pointedly to her.

"Is he...?"

"He is asleep."

"Good, that will make my work easier," said Tahir. He moved past the shadow, as if the man was nothing but a column of air, and put his hand on the knob. The shadow looked at his hand, then back at Khaya, and seemed to make a decision on his own.

They stepped inside the dimly lit room to find Amina in the middle of changing one of the wound compresses. The room was strewn with used supplies and completely disheveled despite the regular procession of servants and maids who came in and out to clean it. Khaya froze by the door. Amina's body was shielding her view of Rehan's torso as they were now. Her heart thudded in her chest as Tahir greeted her, and she turned away from her task. They seemed to have a disagreement for a moment, but Khaya was not concerned. She was watching the edge of Amina's sleeve where it covered Rehan's upper arm. She saw something there, something purple.

Amina moved suddenly, and Khaya lowered her gaze. The shadow, who stood beside her, watched her peculiar behaviourwith interest.

"Do you want to remain outside?"

"No," she said.

"Very well."

Tahir shuffled around so he had a better view of the wound. The physician had been careful and consistent with the Prince's care these past days, he noted. He placed his palm against the wounded shoulder, and Rehan groaned in response. He was still in profound pain.

"Please step back," he said to Amina, who had begun to hover. She reluctantly took a few steps back, but still leaned forward to see as much as she possibly could.