Soraya shook her head, wishing she could answer otherwise. “He didn’t make me take the feather. But he always knew what to do, what to say, to make me trust him.”
“So you didn’t know what he was? What he was planning to do?”
Soraya turned to her mother in surprise. “Of course not!” she said. “I didn’t want any of this. I only wanted to be free from my curse.”
Tahmineh let out a brittle laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “And now by breaking one, you’ve fallen into the other.”
“What do you mean?” Soraya asked. “What other? Will you ever tell me the truth?” The last question came out harsher than she’d intended, but there was no point in hiding her feelings now.
Tahmineh went to the wall beside the door and leaned back against it, her eyes pointed up to the ceiling. “You’re right. It’s time for you to know the full story,” she said. “It’s past time. Maybe if I had told you before, I could have prevented this from happening.” She smiled sadly. “Or maybe you would have just learned to hate me sooner.” She slid down to sit on the floor, her knees bent in front of her. Soraya had never seen her sit so casually, without her perfect posture. It felt like being in the room with a stranger. She sat on the bare floor across from her mother and, as she had done so often as a child, waited for her story to begin.
“The first part was true,” Tahmineh said. “I did wander into the forestland near Mount Arzur when I was little more than a child, and I did find a woman wrapped in a net. But the woman wasn’t human. I didn’t know that at first—I couldn’t see her clearly enough in the net, and she looked so close to human—but when I freed her, she unfurled her wings, and I understood. She was a div—a parik. She gave me a lock of her hair, and told me that if I ever needed a favor in return, I should burn the hair and breathe in the smoke, and then that night I could speak to her in my dreams. She flew away, and I was alone.”
She paused, her lips clamped shut, as if it physically pained her to speak.
“And then the Shahmar found me,” she said.
Soraya’s heart gave a lurch. “The Shahmar was the same div who found you in the forest?” But even as she asked it, she knew it was true—she remembered the look of recognition that passed between them in the garden.
“The Shahmar found me,” Tahmineh repeated, her voice louder, like she was trying to scare away her own fear. “I didn’t know who he was at the time. I just thought he was a monster. He told me I had taken something of his, and so now he would take something of mine.”
Soraya frowned. She knew this part already. “But—”
“He told me he would wait until I had a daughter, and when that daughter came of age, he would steal her away and make her his bride.”
Tahmineh’s words hovered over them like a blast of cold air, and Soraya let out a low moan of regret, because now she understood why her mother had wanted her to be untouchable. She had spent these years believing Tahmineh had hidden her to protect their family or the safety of others—but Soraya had been the one Tahmineh was trying to protect all along.
“For years, I tried to forget what he said,” Tahmineh continued. “I didn’t know if he had meant it or if it was an empty threat. But I prayed—I prayed every night from that day on—that I would never have a girl. When Sorush was born, I thought my prayers had been answered—but then you were born, minutes later, and I loved you and feared for you at the same time.”
“The parik’s favor.”
Tahmineh nodded. “I had kept the lock of her hair all those years, knowing this day might come. I burned it the night after you were born, and I dreamt I was in a forest—but not the same one where the Shahmar had found me. It was a forest I had never seen before, lush and green. The parik was there, and I told her I needed protection for my daughter, so that no div could ever touch her. She told me to meet her at the dakhmeh near the palace the next night, and to bring you with me.”
“You went to the dakhmeh?”
Tahmineh bowed her head in shame, but Soraya felt an unexpected tenderness for her mother, knowing they had both made the same choice to brave the dakhmeh. But her mother was even braver, because she had gone alone, undefended. For me, Soraya thought. She did that for me, and I betrayed her.
“I was desperate,” Tahmineh continued, “and so I did as the parik asked. She was there with a few others of her kind, and she had brought a basin large enough for an infant, filled with water. She had a vial of some red liquid and told me that a few drops of it mixed in the water would make you untouchable. Any human, beast, or div who touched you would die almost instantly.”
Tahmineh looked directly at her, a fierce glint in her dark eyes. “And I agreed,” she said, her voice firm—defiant, even. “I agreed because I didn’t know how else to protect you in such a dangerous world. There were times when I even envied your curse, because I thought you would never know the fear that I knew when the Shahmar found me in the forest. I kept you hidden away in Golvahar and forced myself to leave you here, because I didn’t want to draw the Shahmar’s attention to you in case he ever sought me out. But I wish I could have kept you with me. I wish I had told you the truth sooner.”
“Why didn’t you?” Soraya asked at once. A curious mixture of remorse and resentment swam inside her.
“At first I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be afraid,” Tahmineh answered. “How could I tell my child that a monster might steal her away? And how could I explain what I had done without letting you know why? I didn’t want you to grow up with that shadow over you. And when you were older…” She looked down at her lap, avoiding Soraya’s eye. “I didn’t want you to hate me. I saw how unhappy you were, and I couldn’t stand knowing that it was because of my actions—because I couldn’t protect you myself. I felt so guilty every time I left you here on your own.” She lifted her head, her eyes swimming with tears. “Soraya, can you forgive me?”
Soraya’s eyes were stinging, her throat closing up. A part of her wanted to say that she was the one who should be asking for forgiveness—she was the one who had brought ruin on them all with her choices. And another part wanted to say no, she couldn’t forgive Tahmineh, because by trying to protect her daughter from one kind of danger, she had left her completely vulnerable to another.
But instead of saying either of those things, Soraya did what she had wanted to do since she was a child. She inched closer to her mother and laid her bare hand on Tahmineh’s. In the space of a breath—a sob, really—Tahmineh had enclosed Soraya in her arms, laying her daughter’s head on her chest and stroking her hair as she rocked them both slowly back and forth.
They wept, forgiveness neither granted nor denied for now. Perhaps they both were to blame, but they both also knew the kinds of terrible choices a person made when at the mercy of the Shahmar. It was a curse they shared, a curse that Soraya had inherited—and in a strange way, it was the first time she truly felt she was her mother’s daughter.
The heavy, formless guilt that had been threatening to suffocate her was now taking shape, becoming something she could do rather than feel. “I started this,” Soraya said, her voice thick with tears. She lifted her head. “And I have to end it—for all of us.”
Tahmineh put her hands on Soraya’s face, one palm on either cheek, and for a moment, they remained like that, enjoying a simple pleasure that had so long been denied them. Then she dropped her hands and said, “He started this, not you. But you are the only one who can end this. If anyone can find a way to sneak out of the palace, it’s you. And once you’ve escaped, you have to find the parik with the wings of an owl. She already paid her debt to me, but maybe she’ll help us again. The pariks are against him, I think. If I can get you out of this room, will you do the rest?”
“Of course, but how—”
Tahmineh shook her head and held a finger to her lips. “Not now. Later, when it’s dark.” She gestured to the window, which was letting in the warm orange light of sunset.
They
waited together until the light slowly faded away, and then Tahmineh whispered to her, “Wait behind the door. As soon as it opens, and the div enters, run out of here as quickly as you can. Don’t hesitate, Soraya, do you understand me?”
Soraya nodded, but she still didn’t know what her mother was planning. She stood with her back flat against the wall so that when the door opened, it would hide her. Tahmineh went to the window, curled her hand into a fist, and slammed it into the glass pane, shattering it with a loud crash.
Both Tahmineh and Soraya let out loud cries of alarm—though Soraya’s was genuine, while Tahmineh’s seemed calculated. Her eyes never left the door, not even as she pulled her bleeding arm back in through the window. Soraya wanted to run to her, but Tahmineh held up a hand, and she remembered her mother’s order not to hesitate.
Mere seconds later, the door slammed open with such force that Soraya was nearly crushed by the impact. The beaked div came forward, going across the room to where Tahmineh was holding out her bleeding arm while making garbled pleas for help. And despite her mother’s orders, Soraya did hesitate—because how could her mother know if the div would help her or if he would let her bleed to death? How could she be so sure that the Shahmar cared if she lived or died?
But if she didn’t go now, then Tahmineh’s actions would have been for nothing. Soraya had already wasted one of her mother’s gifts—she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
With the div’s back to her, Soraya slid out from behind the door—and ran.
15
She began to veer right, but there was another div standing nearby, mercifully facing the other end of the hall, so Soraya skidded to a halt and changed direction. She wasn’t familiar with this part of the palace, but after making another turn, she found a narrow stairwell that would almost certainly be too small for most of the divs to fit into.
It was fortunate that the div had blocked her first instinct to turn right. When Soraya stepped out of the stairwell, she realized by the narrowness of the corridors and the unadorned walls that she was in passageways used mainly by servants, at the back of the palace. Soraya went to the end of the hall and turned down the only way open to her—a long hall that would take her from the new wing back to the main structure of the palace, where she could more easily disappear into the walls.
The long hallway led to a round, colonnaded vestibule with large, arched doorways that opened out to the grounds behind the palace. But the doorways were guarded, of course, by two equally large divs, and Soraya stayed in the shadows of her hallway, trying to remember the closest entrance to the passageways.
Her heart was beating frantically in her chest, and she took a breath to calm herself. If anyone can find a way to sneak out of the palace, it’s you, she thought, finding comfort in her mother’s words. Even though the poison had been drained out of her, she was still an expert at sneaking through the palace unseen and unheard. With one last inhale, she looked out across the vestibule, at the hallway opposite hers. Inside the second door on the right down that hall was an office for scribes, and inside that office was a hidden door that would take her into the passageways—if nobody caught her first.
Soraya stepped out into the vestibule, slowly enough that the soles of her slippers made no sound against the marble floor. With painfully slow steps, she reached the first column without the divs noticing her. She peered out from behind the column, waiting for the divs to look away before she dared move out into the center of the room, directly into their line of vision. She watched them … waiting … and finally, something made them turn their heads to look out onto the grounds.
Soraya ran, no longer bothering to take slow, quiet steps. The slapping sound of her slippers against the floor must have drawn their attention, because she heard a gruff shout, followed by the sound of footsteps running in her direction.
She was in the opposite hall now, and she made it to the second door just as one of the divs squeezed himself into the hallway, barreling after her while she fumbled with the door handle with damp hands. If I had my gloves, this would be easier, she thought, but she managed to get the door open and shut it behind her, hoping that would buy her enough time to disappear before the div saw where she had gone.
In the scribes’ dark, windowless office, Soraya moved by instinct, finding the opening of the door in the wall behind the writing desk. The door to the office began to open—Soraya stepped into the passageways—
And swung the door shut behind her as the div burst into the room. From the narrow seam in the wall, Soraya watched the div look around the empty office, confusion on his furred and leonine face. He let out an angry snort and then he was gone.
Soraya collapsed against the wall in relief—but her relief didn’t last long. She was safe for now, but still had to find a way out of the palace, and it was only a matter of time before the Shahmar discovered she was missing. He would likely guess she was in the passageways, and he already knew one of the entrances.
And then there was her mother’s advice, that Soraya find a parik with the wings of an owl. But even if Soraya managed to escape the palace, how would she ever manage to find the parik on her own?
You would be welcome among my sisters. If you freed me now, I could take you to them.
The solution was both obvious and ridiculous. Parvaneh would know how to find the other pariks, of course. She probably even knew the owl-winged parik her mother had mentioned, since she had known so much about Soraya’s curse. But why would Parvaneh ever agree to help her? The feather, Soraya remembered, putting a hand to her waist, feeling the outline of the feather inside her sash.
She began to walk in the direction of the chamber that would take her to the dungeon, but even though she knew Parvaneh was her best option, she worried she was making yet another terrible mistake. Parvaneh was a div—she would surely be in league with the Shahmar.
As if Parvaneh were in the same room with her, Soraya could clearly see the insulted look on her face and hear the irritation in her voice. I’m not any div, she had once told her. I’m a parik, and my purposes are my own.
Soraya remembered, too, that Parvaneh had last urged her not to take the feather at all, to live with her curse in peace—and to ask her mother why she had wanted her daughter cursed. If Soraya had followed any of her advice, the Shahmar’s plan might have failed.
Even as Soraya argued with herself, every step she took led her closer to the dungeon. When she emerged into the round chamber where she had once stood with Azad, she knew there was never a question of whether she would return to the dungeon, not truly. Even if she didn’t need help finding the owl-winged parik, Soraya would still want to look into those amber eyes and see for herself if Parvaneh had been a part of this plot from the beginning.
The familiar and reassuring smell of esfand surrounded her as soon as she stepped out into the dungeon. If the smoke was still this strong, then no other divs had been here—which meant, possibly, that Parvaneh wasn’t a part of their plot. Soraya reminded herself that the esfand hadn’t had any effect on Azad, but she supposed that was because of his former humanity.
Letting out a slow breath, Soraya crept down the stairs to Parvaneh’s cavern. The light was stronger this time, and so she could clearly see Parvaneh restlessly pacing the length of her cell. As soon as she saw Soraya, she froze and walked up to the bars. Her gaze immediately went from Soraya’s face and neck to her bare hands. “You did it, didn’t you?” she said. Her eyes snapped back to Soraya’s face with an urgent gleam. “Do you have the feather?”
Soraya stepped forward, ignoring Parvaneh’s question. “Did you know? When you saw him here with me that first day, did you know who he was—and what he was planning?”
Parvaneh didn’t need to speak her answer aloud. The glow of her eyes dimmed, her shoulders sagged, and her hands fell away from the bars. Everything about her spoke of defeat.
Soraya shook her head in disappointment. She didn’t understand why she was so surprised, so bet
rayed. Parvaneh was a div, wasn’t she? “You knew and you said nothing.”
“I said plenty. You didn’t listen.”
“You were a part of this from the beginning, weren’t you? When you attacked my brother—that was all part of the plan to get both of you into the palace. What a wonderful spy you’ve been for your king,” Soraya sneered.
Parvaneh’s eyes flashed with anger. “He’s not my king,” she said, her voice a snarl. “He’s my captor. If I had told you everything, would you have believed me? You barely believed a word I said as it was. If I had told you that your handsome new friend was secretly the leader of the divs, you would have denied it at best. At worst, you would have told him, so he could reassure you that I was a liar, and then he would have punished me and my sisters.”
Soraya heard the echo of her own response to her mother’s question of why Soraya hadn’t confronted her sooner, and so she couldn’t deny that Parvaneh was probably right. Soraya’s voice softened a little as she repeated, “Your sisters?”
“He hunts us for sport. Many of my sisters are his prisoners.”
Like the parik my mother freed in the forest, Soraya remembered. “The other pariks—does one of them have the wings of an owl?”
Parvaneh’s head tilted in surprise. “Parisa,” she said, with a glimmer of a smile. “She’s the one who made you what you are.”
“I need to find her. Do you know where she is?”
“Captured, or so he told me. But…” Parvaneh’s eyes flickered to a spot behind Soraya’s shoulder—the source of the fragrant smoke all around them. “If you let me out, I could take you to her and the others, and we could free them. We both have families to save.”
Soraya considered in silence. She didn’t know whom to trust anymore—she had trusted Azad completely, and she had been wrong. Was it possible, then, that she had been wrong to think that Parvaneh was her enemy? Or would she be even more of a fool to trust her now?
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