The Other Side of the Sky - Amie Kaufman Page 0,65

carefully. “I am asking who you are. I hope you are not evading the question.”

Bold move, calling me out like that, but it tells me he probably doesn’t think I’m powerful. I can see him trying to decide whether I’m a player or a game piece. He’s leaning toward writing me off, but he definitely hasn’t made that call just yet. He’s too wily.

Nimh’s voice is in my head: Tell them nothing.

She’s certainly mastered that.

There was such an intensity to her face when she first saw me in the wreckage of the Skysinger, and in her voice as she questioned me—I’m not convinced she brought me to this place solely for my own safety.

I want to put my faith in her. Out there in the wilderness, she seemed kind, and capable, and fascinating—and she seemed to be almost as fascinated by me. The little seeds of something—friendship, my mind supplies instantly—felt real. It felt true. Here, though, I’m adrift. I want to be able to trust this girl, but she’s left me in the middle of a game without telling me anything about the board.

Nobody at home is looking for me—no one who falls Below ever returns. They’re probably planning my memorial service right now.

If I’m ever going to make it back, I’ll need to make it happen myself. So for now, I choose an answer that at least shouldn’t screw with Nimh’s plans.

“I’m a scholar,” I say. When one of Techeki’s impeccably groomed eyebrows rises, I add, “In training. I was traveling to the temple in the hopes of meeting with the Master of Archives when I came across N—the Divine One. That’s why I hurried straight to the library when I arrived. I didn’t think I had much of a chance of talking to him in person, so when the opportunity arose …” I trail off with the grin that usually gets me out of trouble with my heartmother.

Techeki doesn’t look convinced. I don’t know if that’s because he doesn’t buy my story, or because one doesn’t simply ask to meet the Master of Archives. But eventually he inclines his head. “I will see to it that you are escorted to Matias in the archives tomorrow for further discussion.”

The word escorted sounds an awful lot like I’m not allowed to leave this room without a guard. It sounds an awful lot like being a prisoner.

Nimh told me she’d keep me safe. But safe doesn’t mean free. It doesn’t mean allowed to find a way home.

For that, I can’t rely on anyone but myself.

THIRTEEN

NIMH

I wish that I could pace—but even among my own servants and acolytes, I can’t show such obvious signs of an unsettled heart. In such a public place as the healers’ wing, I must be above such displays at all times.

It’s only been a few minutes since I arrived to find that Elkisa wasn’t here. Though the healers said she was relatively unharmed, I can’t shake the need to see for myself. I’d been focusing so much on North and his significance, that I could not allow myself to stop and grieve for my friend. Now that I know she’s alive …

I shift my weight, but catch myself before I can start a telltale restless step. Though I long to rush off in search of Elkisa, the best way to locate my guard is to use the temple’s network of secret observers. I know who many of Techeki’s informants are among my staff, and I’ve never tried to oust them. Better I know who to keep an eye on.

The Master of Spectacle may seem frivolous and shallow, but information is his trade—and I’m certain there are plenty of the temple staff who belong to him who even I don’t know about.

Still, the healers’ assistant I ordered to find Techeki gave me a startled look and a half-hearted protest before giving up and scurrying off to find his master. Find out from Techeki where Elkisa is, I told him. Ask her to come to me here.

I take a deep breath, fighting my own instincts—then, just as I am ready to search for my friend myself, footsteps echo in the corridor. I hurry forward, my heart speeding—

And I stop short.

Hiret.

The riverstrider stops at the sight of me as well, her expression blank. It took me a moment to recognize her, for her long braids are gone. Her hair is cropped close to her head now, the feathers that signified her bond with her husband absent. She looks ten