Sleeping in a bed that didn't rock and sway was heaven.

Rina stretched, spread her toes, and, pushing away the thoughts of Pietro and Iskra back home, luxuriating in the knowledge that today she could do as she wished.

Rina's bed was more than double the size of her one in Amadore, with linen, feather pillows and a tight-pulled mattress. Uma's obsidian dragon statue—a farewell gift—sat on her bedside table. An array of cosmetics clustered on her dresser in a rainbow of colourful glass. She uncorked a vile and inhaled the scent jasmine oil. Her brows had raised. Had they known she dreamed of owning this or was it a guess?

Her suspicions grew when she opened the carved wardrobe and found cloaks and dresses in a variety of colours. She tried a simpler one on, in a shade of autumn leaves. It fit perfectly.

After a quick toilet, she entered the common area. A young girl hurried over and asked Rina if she wanted breakfast. Taken aback, Rina smiled a yes and walked to a low table surrounded by bolsters.

Sarah sat cross-legged, munching on flatbread and soft cheese, the steam snaking from her small cup of coffee in a bitter-scented stream that made Rina's mouth water. Anat sprawled across the cushions, eyes on the ceiling, a faraway look in her eye.

"Thank the gods I'm out of that cabin," Anat said, one side of her mouth quirked. "This is worth all that stink of shit and vomit." Her arms and legs reached out, the smooth fabric sliding down her skin, revealing toned, olive limbs.

After washing down a mouthful of food with a sip of her drink, Sara said, "I wonder what they want?"

"Does it matter? We're here, and this is wonderful. Let's just enjoy it." Anat rolled to her side and winked at Rina. "You're too uptight. Relax. Have a seat."

With a tight smile, Rina folded her legs and sat next to Anat, who reached out and lifted the coffee pot in question. Rina nodded. She'd drunk coffee a handful of times in her life. The drink was sweet and bitter and spiced with cardamon.

Sara had a serious expression on her face. "What do you think?"

Rina knew she didn't refer to the coffee. The question was an uncomfortable one, and it took every ounce of her will to push back the flood of questions, and the memories of Pietro and Iskra in their cells. The voyage had been like a strange dream. Hours and hours to think, yet a fog of unreality had seeped into her life and clouded everything. Now, no longer in transit, and high up in this distant city where she could walk outside and see Mai's palace, reality came crashing down on her. She needed to find a way to prove her people were safe. That they could be trusted to have more freedoms, to choose their profession and partners, only then people would stop rebelling. Pietro would support Mai if he did this, and others would follow. She knew it.

Rina bit her lip and stared up at the walkway above them. The landing was empty, yet the single door leading to it loomed, as imposing as an overseer in the fields.

"We're privileged to be here."

Anat waggled her eyebrows. "Praise Mai!"

"And," continued Rina, "it does seem something has changed." With an outstretched hand, she indicated the room about them, from the deep blue rugs over the white marble floor, the long velvet curtains, plump cushions and chairs, to the corner of precious books.

"Before we left, they spoiled us rotten, too, didn't they, Sara?"

Sara nodded. "I agree, but nothing like this." She rested her chin on a closed fist. "Just like fattening a pig for slaughter."

While Anat burst out laughing, falling back on the pillows, a wash of cold swept over Rina. She turned to Sara and whispered, "You shouldn't say things like that out loud."

Sara held Rina's gaze, eventually breaking it to stare down at her coffee.

Anat sobered. "What has got into you, Sara? You were so devoted to Mai."

"We all were, Anat. Otherwise, we wouldn't have been chosen."

Sitting up with a rustle of green silk, Anat lowered her voice. "Were?"

A server approached on near-silent footsteps. Rina let out a breath when Anat held her tongue. The girl placed the metal tray on the table, her eyes fixed on the task at hand as if Rina were a magister herself—or some kind of devil. Regardless of the reasons, she shifted about.

Anat picked up where she had left off. "Are you telling me you've lost your faith?"

"No, Anat—and keep your voice down!"

"You said it."

Rina slammed down her cup, spilling coffee. "Enough! Both of you need to keep your voice down."

Anat and Sara blinked.

"Don't look at me like that." Rina ran a hand through her hair and yanked when her pinky finger snagged in the ringlets. "We've got to watch everything we do and say."

"Why? Unlike Sara here, I came here with a clear conscience."

"Damn you, Anat." A pink flush fanned across Sara's face. "You know how important Mai is to me."

"And yet you question him."

"Not him." Sara leaned close. "It's certain magisters I question."

The memory of Magister Ro yanking that girl from the water came to Rina. Along with the sensation of invisible claws latching to her soul and Ro trying to suck her dry. She shuddered. Sara was right. Mai might be god-like, but he wasn't a pure god. He wasn't omnipotent or omniscient—not quite. Dissenters were everywhere. Rina understood this all too well—so it was only to be expected some of them would hide within the Magisterium ranks. Then there would be those who believed they were serving his higher purpose as they did evil things.

"I think you're paranoid."

"Think what you want, Anat. It is the cautious hare that outwits the fox, and the unwary ones that get eaten."

Anat started to laugh. "Seriously, Sara, get over yourself and enjoy the moment." She took her coffee and flatbread, stood, and, stepping over the mess of cushions, walked to open doorway and through the billowing gauze curtains, out to the gardens.

Sara frowned. "Am I being paranoid?"

With a shrug, Rina selected a piece of bread and ate it. "I'm not sure it's technically possible to be paranoid in a situation like this."

"Everyone else seems fine with it. Why aren't you?"

Rina worried her lip, considering what to tell. Sara was one of the only people who had been sceptical of the events that led them here, and to get her thoughts off her chest would—it would be such a relief.

"I didn't come by choice."

"What?" Sara grabbed Rina's shoulders. "You need to tell me, but not here. Let's walk in the garden."

Rina looked at her plate, longingly.

"Eat your food; then we'll talk."

A little later, their slippered feet crunched on the gravel as they walked through the jasmine-scented grounds. High sandstone walls enclosed the space, decked with blooming vines and creepers. Stone-fruit and citrus trees idled amid the lawns near the back of the enclosure, and in the centre lay garden beds full of roses, lavender and herbs, hedged by manicured bushes. Women huddled about a fountain, pointing, while another group sat in a gazebo, their faces glowing with excitement.

Sara guided them away from the clusters of women. She took Rina's forearm. "Tell me."

Rina paused. The delay had only allowed more doubts to fill her mind.

"I swear it. I will keep it to myself. Medics code."

"I didn't think that applied to us Denese."

The medic's lips twitched. "My code, then."

Sighing, Rina took in Sara. Something told her she could trust the woman, and with the realisation, a sense of calm came over her. Like she could confide in Sara with her deepest, darkest secret and Sara would take it to the grave.

"I didn't exactly come willingly."

"Why not?" Sara's voice was steady and authoritative.

"Because someone I love was doing something wrong, and I thought if I stayed, I might be able to stop them—or at least protect them."

"Did you?"

Rina was relieved Sara didn't ask who or what had been done. Still, the compulsion to talk filled her and she needed to use all her concentration not to confess everything.

"They are in the citadel, alive so long as I am here."

"Don't you want to be here? You taught the young girls about the Taint and our history—not many people are given that privilege."

"You have no idea, Sara." She broke off and wrung her hands. "I was asked to come with the first group, but my uncle hurt himself. When they invited me the second time—well, I just couldn't." She didn't say why. Nor how after the third time they'd trapped her under the worst circumstances. Or that a large, selfish part of her thrilled at being here.

"That's enough, Rina." Sara put her arm around her, and Rina felt the way her friend's body sagged. Her own did, too, the urge to talk dying.

"You're tired, let's go back," she suggested.

Sara didn't resist when Rina walked her inside and set her to lie on a couch. In her blue dress, Sara almost blended into the chair. She brushed back a lock of hair from Sara's forehead as the woman drifted off to sleep.

Rina's mind turned to Fin and how he did the same to her. He'd told her he had much to do before setting sail for the Devastation and the mines of Hypat. He hadn't mentioned the living cargo he would take there, but the unspoken words had hung heavy between them. What he did tell her was a promise: he would come to her before he left.

Her hand moved to the crystal around her neck—it never went to the one beneath her skin anymore—with this, he would find her.

A prickling began at her nape, and she turned and looked up. A tall, hooded figure dressed in a dark robe stood there, like a crow perched high in a tree. She couldn't see his face beyond the cowl, but all the same, in her bones, she knew he watched her.

★☾●☽★

A/N: Thanks again for reading, guys. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. It almost seems like people either have a whole lot more or a whole lot less time on their hands with what is going on. I am in the latter camp, so I apologise in advance if I am slow to respond to any comments. 

I would, however, REALLY appreciate any constructive feedback of this draft. Anything will be considered when I go back and tidy things up. If you're just wanting to read—and you're still enjoying it—please consider ticking that star!