At the mention of the temple, Soraya’s face went hot from shame. He kept using her words and actions against her, and she had no power to deny them. But before she could even try, a loud cry went up from below, and she spun to see the cause.
At first, she only saw the blood staining the dirt in the sparring pit below, and then she found its source: The gray div had buried his ax into the horned div’s arm. The horned div was bellowing in pain as blood spurted out of her like a gruesome fountain, while all around, the other divs cheered. The gray div removed his ax, and turned his back on the horned div, holding the ax above his head to the delight of the crowd. The horned div’s arm dangled uselessly from its socket, hanging on only by a few threads of muscle and skin, and her ax clattered down to the ground. Then the horned div ripped off the remains of her arm with a sickening tearing sound, threw it aside, and charged forward with a yell. Still boasting his triumph, the gray div didn’t notice the horned div’s attack until those horns went clean through his torso, impaling him.
Soraya put a hand over her mouth, afraid she would be ill, and turned away from the spectacle. Her hands were shaking, her eyes trying to blink away what she had seen, but along with the disgust and the nausea was a flood of relief that she was horrified at all—that she took no delight in the carnage, the way the other divs did. He’s wrong, her twisting stomach assured her. You don’t belong here.
The Shahmar silently led her away, back to the hallway. When they were in her room again, he told her he was returning to Golvahar, and so would not see her until the following night. Soraya heard his words in a daze, still trying to erase what she had seen.
“I would suggest you remain here until I return for you,” the Shahmar said, and he didn’t need to explain why.
He started to turn for the door, but Soraya gathered enough of her wits to call out, “Wait!” He stopped and looked at her expectantly. “What are you going to do to my brother?” she said.
“Why do you still care about any of them?” he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. “Why are you still fighting me at all? Don’t you have everything you wanted? You wanted revenge against your family. You wanted to lift your curse. You wanted to be far away from Golvahar—with me.”
She shook her head. He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be right. As long as she fed the spark of hatred for him and let it spread through her, there would be no room for him to be right.
“I don’t want you,” she snapped. “I never did.”
“That’s a lie,” he said at once, and she hated that she couldn’t deny it. “And…” He took a hesitant step toward her, and in a voice she almost recognized, said, “And there’s no reason you shouldn’t want me still. My name truly was Azad, once, before it became lost to time and legend.” He held out his arms and looked down at his hands. “The face you knew was what I looked like before … before I became this.” His eyes met hers, and they were hopeful, almost human despite their color. “The gulf is not as wide as you think,” he said quietly, like he was telling her a secret.
I know, she almost replied, but to admit that was to admit that she had looked hard enough to see those remnants underneath.
“All that means,” she said, “is that I never should have trusted you in the first place. Now tell me what you’ve done with my brother.”
At once, his eyes went hard, and his hands clenched into fists. “I have plans for your brother, but you’re not ready to hear them yet.”
“If you harm him,” Soraya began, not even sure what she could threaten him with, “if you harm anyone in my family—”
“Don’t be naive. You know I can’t allow him to live for much longer.”
“If you expect me to ever speak to you again, you’ll allow it.”
A low growl escaped him. “I’ll return tomorrow night,” he said before he turned and left, nearly breaking the door in the process.
17
And now she was alone, with only her treacherous thoughts for company. Different walls, different furnishings, but in a way, she was exactly where she had always been.
She hadn’t wanted to take anything that the Shahmar offered, but her stomach demanded otherwise, so she ate the fruit on the table and wondered how she was supposed to pass the time until he returned. Perhaps that was the point—to leave her here long enough that she would be pleased to see him when he returned for her, hungry for any company. The thought made her shudder, because she knew that plan would work in the end. She had been lonely enough at Golvahar to be susceptible to his charms, and now her isolation was even worse.
Without windows, there was no sense of how much time had passed since he’d left her here. Soraya looked at her bowl of fruit, now missing one pear and several grapes. She had eaten without thinking, but now she realized she would need to ration herself more carefully. She had no idea if she would be fed again before Azad’s return. She would have to preserve her water, too. At least at Golvahar, she had never had to worry about food or drink—she had lived in comfort, lacking nothing except company. Soraya buried her head in her hands, guilt and regret turning the taste of the fruit sour in her mouth.
Her mother’s voice came to her, gentler than she deserved: He started this, not you. But you are the only one who can end this.
Soraya lifted her head. She had promised her mother she would make up for what she had done, and to do that, she still had to find the owl-winged parik. But she would never be able to keep that promise if she stayed here, day after day, at Azad’s mercy.
It took several tries to pry open the tightly wedged door, but as soon as she did, some of her worries faded. She was comfortable with tunnels, after all—they had practically raised her. If she kept heading down, she’d eventually reach the mountain’s base, where maybe she would find a way out. She just had to evade the divs, as she had done in the palace.
Soraya moved silently down the tunnel, waiting until the large hallway beyond was empty before daring to take another step. This time she noticed that the ground was built on a slight incline. Soraya went in the direction inclining downward, which was the opposite of where Azad had taken her, staying close to the walls and moving from shadow to shadow. Along the hall were smaller openings that led to side passages, and she paused before crossing them, making sure nothing was going to jump out at her. She noticed, too, that the hall was rounded, and she hoped that this one tunnel wound itself all the way up the mountain in a large spiral. If it did, she could follow it down until she reached the mountain base.
And perhaps she could have, if the hall had remained empty.
She felt the vibration of heavy steps under her feet before she saw the divs themselves, giving her enough time to duck down one of the side tunnels before three large divs came into view. She waited a little longer to make sure no other divs would pass, but she waited too long, and soon another passed in the opposite direction.
She kept waiting, and the longer she did, the more divs she saw moving in both directions—and the more she realized how futile and foolish this decision was. Every time one of them passed her hiding place, Soraya held her breath and shrank back, knowing that eventually one of them would turn this way. She couldn’t stay here, but she couldn’t continue on the main path. She was fortunate that she had managed to make it even this far. Conceding defeat, she followed the tunnel she was already in.