The Serpent's Veil

The Lion's Den

The archway was decorated with dazzling cerulean and turquoise mosaic tiles, with lines of scripture intricately hidden within the patterns. Two guards watched Khaya with curious eyes, as if they had never seen a woman walking alone in these halls.

"What is your business here?" One of them asked reluctantly.

Khaya kept her eyes down. "Afsa sent for me."

They looked at each other for a moment, then shrugged. "The servants' quarters are straight down the hall."

She bowed, and strode into the Barmaki compound, smiling beneath her veil. There were more colours on the walls here than any part of the palace Khaya had seen thus far. Yellows, pinks and greens swirling into each other on every wall, pillar, and alcove.

Khaya moved behind a pillar and closed her eyes. Far away, she heard chattering voices, the scrape of a finger on a page, and rushed footsteps. Her breathing slowed, and softer sounds came – the rustling of leaves, twittering birds, the beat of a butterfly's wing. Finally, she heard the bees.

She opened her eyes.

Focusing on the sounds of the garden, she made her way through the arcades and courtyards as if she had been born and bred within the palace walls. Finally she saw the narrow, scalloped arch which led to her prize. There were voices coming from the garden – two women, one of which was probably Atishi. Khaya sidled up to the edge of the opening and waited for a breath before entering. The air was balmy and filled with the thick smell of flowers. Khaya walked sideways with her back against a row of tall hedges, and scanned the bushels. Fruit trees and giant cacti stood side by side as if nature had intended it to be thus; black flowers bloomed from green stems and purple-streaked ferns grew as high as Khaya's shoulder. It was like entering a new world entirely.

"Yasmin, you should have told me you were coming."

Yahya's voice cut through the trees, and Khaya stopped in her tracks.

Why is he always following me...

"I didn't come here to see you," said Yasmin, voice sweet and lilting. "Besides, shouldn't you be with your other wife?"

"What?"

"She is talking about Prince Rehan," said Atishi.

Khaya clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her laugh. Clearly she wasn't the only one who thought those two were attached at the hip.

Yahya clicked his tongue in annoyance. "He is negotiating with the Byzantines."

"Without you?" Atishi asked coldly.

Yasmin let out a deep sigh. "Such a waste of time. You could've just shaken the emissary's hand and we would have got everything we want. Why bother with the show?"

Do they think he is that incapable? Khaya thought.

She was nearing the end of the hedge cover, and still no sign of the flowers. A muttered curse left her lips as she crouched and craned her neck forward to surveil the flowerbeds.

"I suspect he wants to prove he doesn't need me."

There, in the far corner of the quilt of flowers — a small patch of purple blooms. Their petals danced in the breeze, carrying the sweet scent to Khaya's nose. Out of the corner of her eye she could make out the shape of the three Barmakis sitting on the other side of a wide pool covered in bright lotuses. With no more hedge cover she had no place to hide; if any of them glanced her way, it was over. Even her gift was useless. At lease if she had had Ayaan's hold of the wind she could create a distraction.