Reach for You

by Pat Esden

  Without a word, we rushed through the arched doorway and into the palace. As we started down the hallway, an oily orange aroma joined the heavier musk scent—and my prickle of worry transformed into a full-blown sense of fear. There were no guards stationed along the hallway or at any of the doorways. None at all. There weren’t any servants or other eunuchs, not even distant voices.

  We went by the weaving room, where I’d seen the ropes of silkworms and looms that made the magic carpets, where Jaquith had confronted me and I’d learned he was Chase’s half brother. It was also silent, except for the murmur of moth wings and the rustle of hatching cocoons.

  “It’s too quiet,” I whispered to Dad.

  He nodded, but tilted his head to indicate we should keep going.

  I led the way to the reception hall. I’d first seen Mother there, amongst a crowd of Malphic’s party guests. It was so different this time, just an empty gold and white box with pillars and doors on all sides. I curled my hands up into my sleeves, rubbing a chill from my arms. Something strange was going on here.

  With all my senses on high alert, I gestured toward a curtained doorway on the other side of the room and hushed my voice even further. “The harem’s through there.”

  Dad rested a hand on my shoulder. “Like Old Samuel always said, ‘The straight path is the wisest.’ ”

  Yeah, right, I thought. Our crazy ancestor, Samuel, had a lot of wise advice, according to Dad. He also was known for making some very stupid mistakes.

  I pressed my fingers against my chest to make sure the poison ring was still in my bra, my little safety measure. Then, shoulder to shoulder with Dad, I tiptoed to the doorway and slipped into the harem, the curtains rippling silently shut behind us.

  The harem’s mirror-tiled walls glistened like ice, so did the long silver banners that draped from the ceiling. But the room was hot, more like an airless tomb than a frozen cathedral.

  We headed for the center of the room, where an island of gold furniture and potted palms gathered around a flaming pit. Though I knew a soundproofing spell hung over the room, it was strange to feel the fire’s warmth before I got close enough to hear its crackle.

  My eyes zeroed in on a large cabinet with glass doors, and a barely controllable desire for vengeance hummed into my blood. Behind the doors were rows and rows of bottles, prison cells for Malphic’s concubines, prisoners like my mother.

  I touched Dad’s sleeve. His face was hidden by his hood, and his posture revealed nothing. But his rage hung in the air, palpable and even hotter than mine, mingling with guilt at not having rescued her sooner.

  “We need to do this fast,” I said to bring his head back where it belonged. This wasn’t the time for regrets or anger. It was time to focus. We needed to get Mom, get back to Chase, and get home.

  Dad nodded and reached inside his robe.

  The problem at hand was a small, fist-size glowing symbol on the cabinet’s door. Genies couldn’t get through locks, hence all the magic carpets and curtains. But this cabinet was an exception. Kate had done some research and concluded that the doors were some kind of illusion, kept shut by a magic seal shaped like Chase’s brand: the djinn word for slave. Kate had concocted a spell to neutralize the lock and had given it to Dad.

  “Wait a minute,” I said as an idea came to me. It made more sense to be sure Mom was inside one of the bottles before we wasted time breaking in.

  Slipping off the egg pendant, I dangled it in front of the cabinet. “Have I lost my mother?” I murmured.

  I waited, focusing on those words and channeling my energy toward the egg. I breathed in through my nose and let it out slowly. After a long moment, the egg swung back and forth, toward and away from the cabinet.

  “Is she here?” I asked. The egg circled, then began to swing slowing, side to side. I moved the necklace horizontally along the cabinet until it started circling again. I lowered it and it stopped moving. I raised it toward the top shelf and it began to swing again. “Here?” I said, holding it in front of a deep sapphire bottle with a gold rim. The chain vibrated in my hand. Mother. She was in that bottle.

  Joy soared through me. I wanted to grab Dad and give him a huge hug. But I forced my excitement down, slipped the necklace back on, and stepped aside so Dad could work the spell Kate had given him.

  He pushed back his sleeve and a small metal tool appeared in his hand.

  Not a spell. A glass cutter.

  Even without seeing his face I knew he was grinning. I also suspected this was no common cutter. I mean, cutting the glass was the perfect way to bypass the glowing lock, but these doors for sure weren’t normal either.

  As if by magic, a handful of iridescent sand appeared in Dad’s other hand. “Crystal, quartz, diamond, gossamer. Unyoke, divide, sever, cleave . . .” he chanted under his breath—

  A swish of movement sounded behind us, and a deep voice growled, “Break that spell and Malphic will be here in a second.”

  I swung around and found myself nose-to-nose with a tall, broad-shouldered eunuch. The hood of his brown robe hid his face, but the leather gloves and short whip hanging from his belt revealed what I couldn’t see: a black man who had once been as handsome as Chase, his face now warped by a vicious scar that ran down from his left eye to his upper lip, giving a cruel twist to his mouth.

  “Nice to see you again, Annie,” he said. He rested his hand meaningfully on a second whip, a long, coiled one partly hidden by the folds of his robe. He hadn’t been carrying that one the last time we met.

  My mouth went dry. I glanced at Dad, my voice quavering. “Ah—Dad—this is Chase’s half brother, Jaquith.”

  Dad dipped his head politely, but his hand eased toward a fold in his robe as if going for a salt shank.

  Jaquith rested back on his heels. “I heard you two were looking for me?”

  I steadied my voice. “Yeah. The guards told you?” What else could I say to him when I didn’t know if he was on Malphic’s side or our saving grace?

  Dad cleared his throat. “So do you have a better suggestion about how we could get into the cabinet?”

  “I do.” His gaze swept my body, a quick assessment. “You might be small enough to do it. Follow me.” He turned away.

  “Wait a minute,” I said sharply. I cringed, instinctively fearing I’d spoken too loud. But the room had swallowed my voice, so I went on. “Where is everyone? Malphic. The guards. The other eunuchs . . . Everyone.”

  “It’s the zenith—the middle of the night. Most have eaten and are bathing or resting.” He paused for a moment as if puzzled I would ask. Then his voice lightened. “When you were here before, it was a festival night. There is no resting then.”

  My gaze darted to his, cautious hope fluttering in my chest. “So Chase is resting, too?” Had the guards and eunuch lied or been mistaken about the next fight?

  Jaquith shook his head. “None of us can stop what’s happening to him. But we may be able to help your mother—if we hurry.”

  Dad shook his head. “Annie’s not going anywhere until you explain.”

  “We’re going to borrow Malphic’s key.” He swiveled and started across the hall.

  Dad held his ground, not moving a step.

  Understanding suddenly dawned on me. The zenith. Bathing. The key. The last time I was here I’d seen the communal baths. They weren’t far away. Malphic would have his clothes off and the key would be in them.

  “Come on.” I snagged Dad’s arm and set off after Jaquith. We had to trust him. There wasn’t enough time not to.

  My brain took another leap of logic and I quickened my steps even more. The glowing seal on the cabinet looked like Chase’s brand. That mark had been made by the retractable branding iron built into the moonstone decorated handle of Malphic’s knife. Chase had taken that knife from Malphic five years ago and still had it. But I’d seen Malphic with a duplicate moonstone knife since then. It was always with him. What if—

  Letting go of Dad, I caught up with
Jaquith. “You’re talking about stealing Malphic’s knife. It’s not just a branding iron, is it?”

  “Borrow. Not steal,” he said, very low.

  My mouth dried as Jaquith headed toward a narrow, curtained doorway instead of leading us toward the communal baths. Next to the doorway a wooden screen was set into the wall. It was pierce-carved with dragon and peacock decorations. Tendrils of heavily scented musky-orange smoke drifted out through it.

  Jaquith looked at Dad, then nodded at a bench that sat below the screen. “You wait there,” he said.

  Dad stiffened. “She’s not going anywhere without me.”

  “You might want to think twice about that unless you truly are a eunuch.” Jaquith’s voice was firm. He jutted his head at the doorway we’d taken into the harem and to another large archway on the farther end of the room. “The main entries are safe for any male. But if an intact male enters this one, it would feel like a camel had bitten his testicles. Then the organ would drop off.”

  I cringed. But it did partly answer something I’d been wondering about. I’d always believed men weren’t allowed in harems, and yet I’d seen warriors walk through this room before. “So this isn’t the harem?”

  “This is the harem gallery,” Jaquith clarified. “Malphic grants gifts here and”—he hesitated, as if searching for the right phrase—“no disrespect intended, but this is where he displays his most favored acquisitions. Beyond its walls is the harem proper.”

  Display. Grant gifts. His words made my head swim. It was almost unbearable to think of my mother being used like that, not to mention all the other women and possibly men as well.

  Jaquith gestured forcefully at the bench under the pierce-carved screen. “We don’t have time to debate this. Sit. Let the smoke fumigate your clothes and body. Your daughter will be right back.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Abilities lurk within the nooks and crannies of our mind and souls, lost continents of knowledge and power awaiting our discovery.

  —Persistence Freemont, “Introduction to the Arts”

  In Compendium of Psychic Sciences (Vol. 1)

  Boston, Massachusetts: Coryphacus Press, 1982

  I stepped through the curtained doorway and into a closet-size room so dense with plumes of musky-orange-scented smoke that I had to cover my nose to keep from choking. Overhead, the ghostly shapes of towels and robes hung in the haze. Everywhere, earthenware jugs and bowls weighed down racks and shelves, each labeled with line drawings of plants and symbols that resembled the ones on the poison ring, the djinn’s magical language. In this case I suspected the words were fairly common: orange oil, myrrh resin, cinnamon bark. Incense waiting to be sprinkled on the hot coals that glowed in a pan that spanned most of the floor.

  Jaquith touched my shoulder and nodded ahead. Squinting through the smoke, I made out another pierce-carved screen, nearly wall size. On the other side of it, a small alcove and potted rose topiaries shielded what lay beyond from my view. But the unmistakable trickle and slosh of water suggested it was a communal bath. As I tiptoed closer to the screen, what Jaquith had in mind became obvious.

  A stone bench was shoved tight against the farther side of the screen. A gold robe and long white tunic were draped across it. Next to them lay an assortment of sashes, belts, and weapons, including Malphic’s moonstone knife. There was no way to reach through the pierce-carved screen. However, the screen did not go all the way to the floor. If someone were small enough they might be able to wiggle under the screen and come out on the other side, beneath the stone bench.

  I took off my dagger so it wouldn’t clink on the floor and tucked it into a pocket. Whether I could fit through the slender gap was a good question. Lotli could have done it with ease, but right now she was—

  Images of Lotli walking her fingers down Chase’s sweat-slicked arms wormed their way into my head, her bending close to the fight cage’s bars, licking her lips and whispering lies about me, about him and her.

  Clenching my teeth, I willed Lotli from my head. I dropped down on my hands and knees, and started belly-crawling under the screen. It was only once I was halfway under the screen—and too late to retract—when another thought rose. Could this be a setup? A clever way to separate me and Dad and make capturing us easier?

  My shoulder bumped the screen. It jiggled. I froze, not even daring to breathe. One second passed, then two. I let out my breath, flattened myself as much as possible, and wormed forward until the front half of my body was through to the other side and beneath the bench. I couldn’t worry. I just needed to get the knife as fast as possible. It wasn’t like I was out in the open. The rose topiaries did partially shield me from their view.

  The air was hotter and more humid on this side of the screen. The sound of the water sloshing was louder, too. I caught a glimpse of palm trees, white sand, and a waterfall trickling into a scallop-shaped pool. The Sovereign Mistress Vephra lay naked in the pool’s shallow end, her black hair sprawled out across the water. Malphic was breaststroking toward her like a dark-eyed barracuda, the waves from his movement lapping against her very pregnant belly. Water shone on his shaved head and trimmed black beard, the tattoos that covered his face and body glistened.

  I bit my lip, an evil thought forming. What would happen if someone dumped a few sandwich bags full of salt into that water? I frowned. For that matter, why were beings that were made of smoke-less fire paddling around in a pool?

  Malphic went under the water, resurfacing a second later next to her belly. A wicked gleam sparked in his eyes. He scooped her from the water, carrying her out of the pool and toward a mound of embroidered floor pillows. She struggled against him and let out a playful squeal. I closed my eyes. I really didn’t want to witness whatever was about to happen. But this was perfect timing for me.

  I pushed even farther forward and twisted onto my back to where I could see the clothes and weapons. One inch at a time, I reached toward the knife until I wrapped my fingers around its handle. It was thicker and heavier than I expected. I slowly brought it downward.

  Vephra murmured. I heard a shushing noise. A cushion moving? A footstep?

  Heart in my throat, I began to slither backward. Jaquith’s hand pressed my leg, holding me still. His other hand appeared from under the screen. “Give it to me,” he said, barely audible. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back with it.”

  As the weight of the knife left my grip, an uneasy feeling washed over me. I wasn’t thrilled by the idea of leaving everything in Jaquith’s hands. What if he had totally different plans for the knife than he claimed? Even if he didn’t, what if something went wrong? I had no way of knowing if Dad was okay or not. Still, if Jaquith was trustworthy and all went well, then my waiting made perfect sense. The less movement I made, the less likely we’d get caught.

  A flump-flump noise, as if someone were pounding bread dough, came from the general direction of Malphic and Vephra. I shifted ever so slightly and glanced their way.

  Atop the cushions, she lay on her side. Malphic knelt over her, working his forearm against her buttocks, rolling strokes, firm and determined. He picked up a lavender bottle, poured oil onto his hands, and then moved downward, his fingers working against the tattooed cords of her legs. She stretched out and I got a full view of her swollen stomach, the tanned skin of her taut belly painted in a spiraling design like a maze. As Malphic massaged the inside of her thighs, her whole body began to shimmer brilliant blue. An image of Chase glowing when we made love flashed into my head, like brilliant blue diamonds.

  Chase. I rubbed a cramp from my neck. I hoped with all my heart that his next fight was over with and that he was fine. Not that I wanted him to kill someone else, or be alone with Lotli.

  An image of them alone in a cell burst into my mind, her stroking his body, caring for his wounds.

  A headache pulsed in my temples. I scrunched down and nibbled on the willow bracelet that Selena had given me. Not a lot, just enough to stop the ache. I glanced back th
rough the pierce-carved screen. Freaking hell. What was taking Jaquith so long?

  Malphic moved on, his fingers anointing Vephra’s calves, her ankles, her feet, each toe, his fist rolling against the arch. She rolled onto her back. His hands slid up her hips. His butt was taut, muscles flexed. The air around him shimmered vibrant blue and began to crackle and vibrate just like when Chase and I made—

  I clamped my hands over my mouth, a sour tang creeping up my throat. Oh my God. I really didn’t want to see this. But like the worst kind of voyeur, I couldn’t stop watching. This man had kidnapped my mother. This man was Chase’s father.

  Something hard nudged my leg. Malphic’s knife. I took it from Jaquith’s hand, snaked out from under the bench, and put it back where I’d found it. I started to wriggle back under the screen, but I couldn’t stop myself from taking one last look.

  Vephra lay on her other side now, Malphic’s hand just retreating from under her hips, as if he’d helped her roll over. Her body glistened from head to toe, shades of pale blue and lavender. Her eyes flickered closed as he began to massage her exposed hip, rolling his forearm against it, gentle and firm. A fluttery feeling tingled in my stomach, a strange mix of uneasiness, joy, and fear. I was glad and surprised to see this gentle and caring side of him. But what kind of man could do this and at the same time force his son to fight for his life and sanity?

  I shook the sight from my mind and wormed backward under the screen. Jaquith pulled me to my feet. In a second, we were through the curtained doorway, sprinting across the harem gallery toward where Dad stood next to the cabinet, holding the deep sapphire bottle.