Sword and Verse by Kathy MacMillan Page B

in dust at a figure on the floor—Linti, looking dazed, as tiny at age eight as she’d been at six. Her white-blond hair fell in her face, but didn’t disguise the red mark on her cheek where Emilana must have struck her. In the far corner, Naka and two other children I didn’t recognize worked steadily, glancing uneasily at Emilana.
    â€œIt’s the Stander for you tonight,” screeched Emilana. “But first you’ll finish this room.”
    My fear had turned to anger—how dare she treat Linti like that!—and I’d actually taken a step forward when I came to my senses. I was in a part of the palace where I was definitely not supposed to be. If I said the things to the Qilarite head servant that wanted to roll off my tongue—and I could picture with satisfying detail the expression on Emilana’s face if I did say them—I could get myself banished, or worse. And I wouldn’t help Linti at all.
    In the time it took me to step back into the shadows, Emilana had hauled Linti up. Linti wobbled, and for the first time I had a clear view of her pale face and glassy eyes.
    She’s ill, I realized. How like Emilana to miss that, or to notice and not care. Hot, sick fury swooped through my stomach, and I stood frozen behind the door as Emilana shoved Linti back toward the others.
    Unable to watch any more, I fled to the Adytum, where I collapsed onto a bench and caught my breath. I couldn’t have intervened, I told myself. I wasn’t just protecting my own secrets anymore, but Mati’s too—
    I sat up straighter. Mati! Of course, I would tell Mati what I’d seen, and he would find a way to help Linti!
    But no—Mati and his father were leaving early in the morning, and there would be no formal dinner tonight, as many of the councilors had gone to their country estates for the Lilana break. I wouldn’t see Mati for seven long days, and even if I told him, what could he do? Sneaking food to Linti was one thing—and for all I knew, he had his valet do that for him. But if he tried to interfere with the running of the palace, his father would be furious.
    There’s nothing I can do. This is how the world is , I thought. Besides, Linti was a tough little girl. Hadn’t she and I hacked our way through a full Veiling of the coughing sickness when she was four years old? Sleeping beside her had felt like lying inside a firepit, but she’d come through it fine. Linti had been dealing with Emilana for years; the fact that I happened to witness this incident didn’t make it any different.
    Nevertheless, I couldn’t sleep that night, picturing her leaning against the damp, dark walls of the Stander.
    I worried about Linti nonstop, and didn’t relax until I saw the children leaving the baths four days later. From a distance Linti seemed steady on her feet.
    When Mati returned, I didn’t mention it to him. What could he do? Besides, we didn’t get to see each other much over the next two Shinings and Veilings, as the palace was consumed with preparations for Mati’s eighteenth birthday celebration, his coming of age as heir to the throne.
    At the ball, the viziers and ministers gave long speeches about how much Mati had grown, and what an inspiring king he would be one day. The eastern vizier did not come, however—I heard the War Minister tell Laiyonea that Emtiria’s army had besieged our border city of Asuniaka.
    â€œA minor matter,” the War Minister insisted. “The Emtirian army is made up of castoffs and escapees and tialiks. Their discipline won’t last long.”
    I flinched, but Laiyonea absorbed the casually dropped curse without blinking. I thought of waves pounding on stone, wearing it down bit by tiny bit.
    So Emtiria was where the escaped slaves went. It made sense. Emtiria, the country just over the border, had no laws subjugating the Arnathim or anyone else. Indeed, from what Laiyonea had