The Serpent's Veil

Road of Pages

They left the harem through a different gate, one that led straight into a narrow arcade surrounded by two quiet pools. Khaya strode in the direction of the voices as if she knew the halls by heart, all the while keeping her ears open for snippets of conversation amongst the meaningless whispers.

"-a more pressing issue at hand," Yahya said, "she saw-"

His companion's voice rose as if in surprise or awe, but Khaya could not catch the words.

"This isn't working," she mumbled, and surged forward through the passageways. Meia quickened her step in turn, and eventually they reached a wing of the palace that even she was unfamiliar with. Khaya stopped just outside an archway and leaned against the wall to catch her breath.

Now when she focused, the voices came to her clearly.

"Keep your voice down," Yahya said. Khaya covered her smiling mouth with the back of her hand. If only he knew how futile that was.

"Where is she now?" the other man whispered, yet Khaya heard.

Are they talking about Rayta? Or me?

"Ayaan took her to the harem."

Her blood ran cold, jaw tight. Ayaan was the boy she had met earlier.

The man replied, but Khaya missed it. She closed her eyes and tried to hone in on Yahya's voice again, but she could not find it.

Beside her, Meia's eyes were wide with worry. Khaya didn't acknowledge how strange she must have looked, scrunching her eyes and running through the halls.

"I am fine," she smiled, "Do you know where this leads to?" She pointed through the archway into a short passage that curved at the end.

Meia surveyed her surroundings and shook her head. 

Khaya entered the archway. When they turned at the corner the sound of pages scraping together amplified a thousand times over knocked the breath from Khaya's lungs, and all at once she knew they were in trouble.

Ж

The shelves were endless and towering, their majesty demanding to be seen.

Meia tugged at Khaya's sleeve, worry on her face. They were not supposed to be here. 

Khaya's pulse throbbed in her wrist, but she was still in control. She took Meia's wrist and pulled her into a nook between two bookcases to hide. Her senses probed for Yahya's voice but there was only silence, not even the sound of turning pages and shuffling sheets from just moments earlier. She was either too late, or her strange ability had a mind of its own.

A string of curses fell from her mouth. "Stay here," she instructed Meia, whose caramel face had gone a shade paler. Khaya peered around the shelf and quickly glided from one to the next, going deeper and deeper into the maze of bookcases, all the while listening. Suddenly she had reached the centre, where the shelves disappeared to make way for an area filled with writing desks arranged in neat columns. Her heartbeat rose to her throat, and she slammed herself behind the last shelf. A few books fell out of place, tense seconds passed, but silence fell once again, but for the gentle scritching of pen on paper. Khaya's chin tilted up and her eyes widened. There were three floors above that had balconies looking over into the writing area. It was a whole world, carefully hidden away.

A movement by one of the balconies caught her attention, and she craned her neck to see the swish of a white kaftan just in time. There he stood, regal and poised with his companion, talking in hushed tones. Khaya kept her focus on them and tried to reach for their voices, she imagined fingers extending from her ears, grabbing at each word.