Page 73 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
Zahra poked at her food. “It was a long time ago.”
Zahra thought of her vision from earlier, reminded again of how eerily similar thesibylhad looked to her mother. Shame toiled in her heart. She was grateful for Selene’s guidance, but despite what Katerina and Namir believed, she was not asibyl. She couldn’t deliver warnings of great danger. How was she meant to be a prophetess when she couldn’t even save herself from her curse?
Namir shifted on the seat and set his plate aside. “It is incredible.”
Zahra looked at him in confusion. “What is?”
“All of this.” He gestured around them. “All of your people have lost something—perhaps even someone—but you can hardly see it on their faces.” He paused, contemplating the joyous laughter and giggling children. “I am…impressed to see such joy in the face of past tragedies.”
Zahra was stunned. While she was worried about herself, he was thinking about her people.This is why you are here. The thought came to her suddenly but quietly. She had an opportunity to show the leader of Aur a glimpse of her people that few saw. No matter what her fate, this moment was important, and she had nearly missed it.
Eboni chased the older kids around, trying to participate in their game. Zahra smiled, and tears lined her eyes. “We were not always this way. But time certainly helps ease the grief.”
Namir appeared in her peripheral vision. She turned to him. His star-filled eyes shimmered as he studied her face, his gaze lingering on her eyes.
Heat flooded her cheeks as she turned away, forcing her hair to cover her face as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “I should check to see if Ahmose has arrived.”
Namir grabbed his plate. “I will come with you. Are you finished with your food?”
Zahra snatched the plate from his grasp, placing it on the bottom of hers. “You should wait here.”
Namir looked up in surprise. “But what if?—”
“I will be right back,” she promised. “You can find Ramses or play with the kids. They would be more than happy to teach you their game.”
Namir’s gaze shifted to the group of kids. “Very well.”
Zahra took the plates back to the table. She discarded the remainder of her food in the pigs’ pen and placed the plates with the other dirty dishes.
“Zahra,” Heba said from the table. “Are you unwell?”
“I ate something earlier that did not agree with me.”
“Ochara.”Heba pouted. She handed her task of cleaning off to another and placed her hand on Zahra’s back. “Come, come. Let us get you one of my tonics.”
“I am fine,” Zahra insisted, but Heba guided her to her home anyway.
Zahra sat in an old wooden chair as Heba disappeared into a different room. Her body was still weak from earlier, despite how much she had wanted to enjoy Heba’s cooking. She wished she could sleep, but she had much to do before the day’s end.
Heba returned with a variety of plants and a mortar and pestle. She crushed the plants one by one, adding them to a small cup. She held a candle beneath it, muttering words in Ionic as she mixed the brew together.
Zahra looked hesitantly out of the window. She couldn’t see Namir or Ramses, but she worried what they would think if they saw it. Heba was only reciting prayers, much like the ones her father had learned to say for rituals at the temple, but to an Auran, her words might seem too much like magic.
Heba finished the tonic, and Zahra took it with grateful hands. “Thank you.”
Heba nodded. “Of course,ochara.” She stood to clean up the mess. As she returned things to the other room, Zahra saw a gorgeous blue fabric hanging on the wall.
Zahra sipped her drink once more before following Heba into the room. A thin mattress sat on the floor, and various fabrics sat in piles. The fading light of the sun fell through a small window. Heba put the things back in her chest as Zahra approached the dress. It was achiton, a soft and beautifully crafted gown made in Ionia. She knew the craftsmanship well—Heba herself had made the dress.
Heba glanced back at her. “It was for Isadora’s wedding.”
“I remember.” She smiled softly and felt the soft fabric between her fingers. “I would pretend that I was wearing it and dance in front of the stream in the garden.”
Zahra thought back fondly on the memories with Heba at Bahiti’s estate. She would recall her experiences with Isadora if she could, but she was young when she and Isadora had met. A long time had passed since the day their village was attacked and Heba had lost her only daughter to the invaders.
Heba smiled, her eyes distant and sad. “Isadora would have loved to see you wear it.”
Zahra dropped the fabric. “I couldn’t. It is hers.”
