Page 125 of A Thousand Painted Hours

I awakened from the deepest sleep, slightly confused about where I was. It was dark, and the bed was deeply soft. A shadow stood over me, and I bolted awake, terrified, scooting backward. “Leave me alone.”

“Shh. Elsie, it’s me.” The voice was familiar but out of place. He leaned in, spoke in Hindustani. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

Tanveer. The world coalesced. I was in India, in the tower room Channan had prepared for me. “What are you doing here?”

“There is a meteor shower. I want you to see it.”

I blinked, took a breath. “Did I miss dinner?”

He chuckled softly. “Dinner and breakfast and dinner again.”

“I’ve never slept like that in my life!”

“A long journey,” he said. “Come, get dressed, and let’s see the Perseids. I have food waiting.”

That caught my attention. I pressed a hand to my empty belly. “Iamhungry.”

“I shall wait in the corridor.”

I nodded, throwing the bedclothes off me, and hesitated. “Is it all right for me to go with you to the roof alone? Seemly?”

He nodded. “It is all right. I promise.”

I scrambled to wash my face and don a skirt and blouse I found in the cupboard, and the slippers that had been left in the bathroom. It registered for the first time, a luxurious space with a deep tub and tiled appointments. Very modern. In the mirror, I looked clear eyed.

Two days!

I joined Tanveer in the corridor. He wore a simple kurta and carried a lantern flickering orange, casting shadows on the walls. He held out his hand. “The way is shadowed.”

His palm and fingers enfolded mine, as if I were home. And perhaps I was in a way. It had always felt that way with Tanveer, whether we were friends or mental sparring partners or lovers. Now something more and less, friends who had shared a great deal of life. At the thought, a tremendous amount of pressure soughed from my body.

He squeezed my fingers lightly, then held the lantern high so I could climb the stairs. Lizards darted in front of me, making me squeak and hold back. He paused. “They will not hurt you.”

“I know. They just startled me.”

“Of course.” When the way was clear, we kept climbing.

The steps opened to a rooftop. Another lantern sat on a small table, where I could see a pitcher and glasses and a tray of food. My stomach growled and without even knowing it, my body headed straight for it.

“Wait,” Tanveer said, touching my arm. “Take a moment to look up.”

I hadn’t yet noticed the sky. Horizon to horizon, it was dark, moonless, which made every star and galaxy all the brighter. I took in a breath of wonder at the endlessness of it, tipping my head back to take it in. The Milky Way was directly overhead, stretching across the midheaven in a display of endless galaxies, and even as I watched, a streak of red crossed it. I cried out in delight. “I saw one!” And I spun, but felt overbalanced, and reached for his arm.

He offered his elbow. “Steady.”

I lowered my head, realizing that all I had to do was stand there to be absorbed into the endless array of stars. “I feel as if I am floating, as if I am a star myself.”

“We are stars,” he said quietly, looking upward. He pointed. “Another one.”

“And another!” This one was smaller, slight and pink.

“I was right to wake you, then.”

Startled, I looked at him. “Of course! How could you think anything else?”

“Good. Have something to eat, and we can lie on our backs. I brought cushions.”

I was famished, and filled a little plate with pakoras and wedges of paratha, nibbling them at first to test the heat after so long a time, but they were exquisite. I washed them down with salty lassi, refreshing and sour, and guava. Licking my fingers, I said, “I apologize for missing dinner. Did a servant come to wake me?”