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CHAPTER 15
Only when I was in my room, the door closed securely behind me, did I let my
sobs overtake me. I slid to the floor, my back pressed against the bed, my arms
around my knees, trying to hold myself together.
By now, Mal would be leaving the palace, travelling back to Tsibeya to join
the other trackers hunting Morozova’s herd. The distance widening between us
felt like a palpable thing. I felt further from him than I had in all the lonely
months that had gone before.
I rubbed my thumb over the scar on my palm. “Come back,” I whispered, my
body shaking with fresh sobs. “Come back.” But he wouldn’t. I’d as good as
ordered him to leave. I knew I would probably never see him again, and I ached
with it.
I don’t know how long I sat there in the dark. At some point I became aware
of a soft knocking at my door. I sat up straight, trying to stifle my sniffling.
What if it was the Darkling? I couldn’t bear to see him now, to explain my tears
to him, but I had to do something. I dragged myself to my feet and opened the
door.
A bony hand snaked around my wrist, seizing me in an iron grip.
“Baghra?” I asked, peering at the woman standing at my door.
“Come,” she said, pulling at my arm and glancing over her shoulder.
“Leave me alone, Baghra.” I tried to pull away from her, but she was
surprisingly strong.
“You come with me now, girl,” she spat. “Now!”
Maybe it was the intensity of her gaze or the shock of seeing fear in her eyes,
or maybe I was just used to doing what Baghra said, but I followed her out of the