Seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty, eighty-one.

  Eighty-one.

  That was the number of candles in the second corridor on the right side of the kingdom, where the empty rooms were. Bayar had a key for each of them, but he avoided entering. Each room was meant for guests of the kingdom, although such guests rarely came, and he couldn't even remember any since he had been there. He had found the keys after a chambermaid lost them. They searched the kingdom for two days before giving up and making her new ones. This was how Bayar acquired them, though he had never tried them. He also didn't know which key was for which door.

  Bayar enjoyed walking through the corridors, and that's what he was doing now. He walked slowly, trying to memorize every corner, as She had advised him. She wanted him to remember everything and to keep an eye on everything in the palace, so he could tell her later. Sometimes, She watched herself, but not now. He sensed that She wasn't seeing. He was alone.

  At first, he didn't understand why he should do it. Counting and remembering insignificant things was boring, but later he understood. It wasn't that the number of candles would help with anything, but it was a way to train his memory. She had advised him of that too. She wanted him to exercise his mind every day, and the easiest way was to remember random things. That's why he counted the candles. The previous day, he had sat at the entrance of the kingdom, perched on a stone, counting everyone who entered and exited. To make it more interesting, he memorized the hair color of each person who passed, and by the end of the day, he tried to arrange them in his mind by number, starting with the most common and ending with the least. The smallest count was often white-haired or red-haired people. The white-haired ones were mostly the elderly, who barely entered. One of the white-haired ones was Ivora—one of the queen's ladies. Bayar liked Ivora, even though she didn't always pay him much attention. She knew him, but the only times she acknowledged him were with a casual smile, one she showed everyone. The women here didn't like men much and kept their distance from them. That was how it was in Meihar. He was lucky they had even let him stay.

  "Hey, boy." Someone was in front of him, but he couldn't see them in the darkness. It was an old woman's voice. "What are you doing here? Don't you know that...?" The voice suddenly stopped. "Ah, Bayar, it's you?"

  He recognized her. Irrit was one of the kingdom's chambermaids, now walking down the corridor with a few white satin sheets under her arm. Irrit was old, older than his mother. His mother didn't like her, thinking she was a woman who always tried to curry favor with the queens and come out on top among the other chambermaids. Even though his mother wasn't a chambermaid, she knew Irrit and always said she was "no good." That's how his mother put it.

  "Good evening, Irrit. Are you preparing the rooms? Are we expecting guests?"

  "You certainly won't have any guests, boy, but the kingdom will. And why do you ask? Have you been in the rooms?"

  "Not at all."

  "Listen, Bayar, it would be best if you lay low for the next few days and didn't wander the palace so much. The guests are important. Didn't Lady Selen's ladies tell you anything? Oh, God, what am I saying? Lady Selen's ladies wouldn't bother telling a peasant boy like you. Has your mother told you anything?"

  Irrit talked too much. Bayar didn't like listening to her, but the news about the guests was interesting. Guests here? That hadn't happened in a long time. The only people in the palace were the queen, her three ladies, the cooks, the chambermaids, and a few others who did various tasks around the castle. But guests?

  In fact, he now remembered the last time people from other places were here. He had been young, too young. There had been a boy he'd become friends with for a short time, but he couldn't remember his name. He only remembered that when they found out Bayar was just the cook's son, they took the boy away and scolded him. Then they kicked Bayar out. Even back then, he had realized there was a divide and he wasn't welcome everywhere, even as a child. And the boy had turned out to be the son of someone important, a guest here. He didn't remember who it was or the boy's name.

  "Who's coming?" Bayar clasped his hands behind his back, fingers intertwined, and tried to coax more information out of her.

  "I don't know. Thalia is excited. You know, the smallest of the queen's ladies. She tried to speak loudly and give us orders, but she was out of breath. I don't know what the queen sees in her, but we have to obey." Irrit placed the sheets over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "Can you imagine? That little thing, that tiny girl commanding us?" Irrit lowered her tone further. "But hush. We don't talk like that about the queen's ladies and the queen. You shouldn't either."

  He knew who Thalia was without her telling him. He knew something about each of the queen's ladies. In fact, Bayar knew many things about many people, but he only told Her. The one who sometimes saw through his eyes, and other times just waited for him at the end of the day. Then he would go, sit beside her, and tell her everything. And she would listen and give him advice.

  Irrit continued bustling down the kingdom's corridor, and he followed her. He wanted to know everything she knew. And the chambermaids knew a lot. They were present at conversations that not everyone could be, pretending to be invisible, and then secretly discussing everything they had heard in the servants' quarters. This continued until one of the noble women in the kingdom found out. It had happened before that women from the service were expelled from the kingdom, with punishments severe—though not death.

  "Do you know why they're coming, Irrit?"

  "Don't ask me such things. Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."

  Irrit waved her hand, and the flame of the three candles, which were the fifty-second, fifty-third, and fifty-fourth in line, flickered. Bayar scanned the corridor to check if anyone was around. There wasn't. Meanwhile, Irrit had started walking ahead.

  "Bayar, are you still here? You're acting strange." Irrit pulled out a long iron rod from her skirt, which had several keys attached to it. "What are you looking at?" She looked around as well.

  "Nothing, just my thoughts." Bayar now looked at her. "I think you know something after all."

  "I don't know anything, Bayar. Some royal figures, that's all I know."

  "Anything else?"

  "You're as stubborn as your mother. Why don't you ask her? She has duties in the kingdom too."

  "I prefer to ask you."

  "Oh, fine." Irrit glanced around again. "Thalia said to prepare the beds mainly for men. Men in such a female-dominated kingdom, can you imagine? Let's hope they behave. Just in case, I'm going to lock up my daughters while they're here. There are enough brothels for them to go to."

  Actually, there was only one brothel. Bayar often went there, not for the services offered, but to gather information or memorize it—again, for Her, who sometimes watched through his eyes. He decided not to argue with Irrit, who stubbornly searched for the right key. His own set of keys was the same, and he knew by heart which key was for which room, but he didn't reveal this. He wasn't that foolish. He had memorized them by heart, and as he watched Irrit's hands, he knew exactly which key she was looking for. But he didn't tell her. If he showed that he knew the keys or had them, she would become suspicious of him. And as his mother often said, the chambermaids were like cats in the kingdom. They tried to poke their noses into everything, eavesdropped on everyone, acted nice to everyone, and when they got bored, they would "accidentally" break something or cause a scandal among the servants just to create a stir. Then they gossiped in the servants' quarters all night, telling everyone everything. He didn't trust them.

  "Bayar?" Irrit had just found the key to the room. "Do you know my two daughters?"

  The question surprised him. He knew them, though only vaguely. Irrit often brought them to the kingdom, hoping the queen or her advisors would notice them and take them in for work. In fact, everyone did that. In the kingdom, women were revered, and while men weren't completely ostracized, they were trusted very little. He was one of the lucky ones who had stayed in the kingdom without causing problems. But as he grew older, more young women began to notice and speak to him, while the older ones looked at him with a mixture of disdain and surprise that he hadn't been removed yet. But that would be hard to do. On one hand, his mother was the kingdom's head cook; on the other hand, She protected him. And little was known about Her. Even fewer knew that he visited Her.

  Bayar nodded approvingly.

  "They're pretty, aren't they? They're around your age. One was born just before you, the other after. Both want to be in the kingdom. I often bring them with me so they can see where I work. And I'm lucky to have two daughters in Meihar. Good thing they weren't boys."

  Irrit didn't stop talking. Sometimes, people like her made his head spin, and he didn't want to listen, but then he remembered Her orders. He had to know everything—from the history of the lowliest chambermaid to Selen's plans. Even Irrit's nonsense was important. And while it was difficult to get close to the queen, he learned everything from the chambermaids in the easiest way possible. If they weren't gossiping, they found someone like him to listen to them.

  "Bayar, you're not saying anything. What's the matter?" Irrit looked around.

  "Sorry, Irrit. I was just thinking."

  "A word of advice, Bayar, my boy. It doesn't matter that your mother is respected in the kitchen and among the castle staff. You're growing up, and everyone sees that. Have you ever seen a young, handsome man in the castle? The only men here are the treasurer Fenris and the librarian Rath. Both are of advanced age. When they pass, others of their years will replace them. The queen keeps an eye on these things, so be careful."

  Irrit was right, but she underestimated him. Bayar knew and had thought about it. But he had Her support, and nothing would happen to him as long as She was down there. He saw the looks everyone in the palace gave him, even those of Irrit's age, but he wasn't impressed. She had also told him not to pay attention to them. Because he only had Her. And She would give him everything he deserved. He believed in her.

  "Now leave me alone, boy." Irrit suddenly changed her tone and almost chased him away. "I have work to do. And if they see me alone with you in these corridors, they might think something."

  Bayar didn't even wait for Irrit to finish her explanation before turning and heading the other way. He practically sprinted down the corridor to the end, turned up the stairs, and took them one by one until he reached a new corridor. To the right was the throne room, where he had no business. His business was to the left, down another long corridor, straight ahead. The closer he got, the stronger the pleasant smells became, pulling him forward like a hook.

  The door to the large royal kitchen was wooden and unlocked. Bayar pushed it open with his elbow and entered. The kitchen was smoky. Three large women were forcefully bringing down heavy cleavers, splitting large bones with meat on them. The sound of the cleavers meeting the wooden tables echoed through the kitchen. Another woman was sorting vegetables in one corner, while one stood over the large boiling pots of water, stirring them with a big spoon and adding something to them at regular intervals. The steam hit her face, turning it red. This was Gaia—his mother.

  "Out!" shouted one of the large women with the cleaver. "Gaia, your son is here again. Do something to stop him from coming. He'll cause trouble for us."

  His mother turned and saw him. She smiled at first, but then her expression changed. She strode over to him, grabbed him by the shoulder, turned him around, and pushed him out.

  "What are you doing here? Why aren't you outside or in the servants' quarters?"

  "I was talking to Irrit; we're expecting guests."

  "You were talking to Irrit? Oh, Bayar, you shouldn't be wandering around the kingdom. You'll cause me problems. You know how they look at men here. Are you hungry?"

  Bayar listened to her but looked past her. The smell from the kitchen distracted him. He was hungry. His mother tried to follow his gaze, looked back, and realized:

  "Wait here."

  The wooden door closed in front of him. Bayar looked back at the corridor. No one was passing by. The wooden door opened again, and his mother stood there, holding a piece of bread and some meat, dripping with water, fresh out of the big pot. It was chicken, and the juices had already mingled with various herbs and vegetables inside, giving it a heavenly aroma. At the first bite, his jaw stiffened, and saliva covered his entire hand. The bread beneath the meat melted so delightfully that the pleasure Bayar felt couldn't even compare to the moments he was with Her. In fact, he was wrong. Only with Her did he feel better.

  He snapped out of his reverie and saw that his mother was gone. She had gone back into the kitchen. He decided not to disturb her and continued down the corridor.

  "Thalia?"

  He heard the voice first, then footsteps. He hid in a nook in the corridor. He was tall, but slender, making it easy for him to squeeze into tight spaces.

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  "Yes?" came the thin voice of one of the queen's ladies. It was Thalia; he couldn't mistake her.

  "What did the queen tell you?"

  "To prepare the servants. Nothing more."

  "Are you sure?"

  The other voice sounded heavier and more authoritative. Bayar was sure it was female, though at times it sounded almost masculine.

  "You always stay with her last. Be careful, Thalia," the voice paused briefly, then continued, "Don't think that Queen Selen is yours. You have a pretty face. Be careful."

  "But I..." The small, black-haired girl couldn't finish.

  "Go on with your business. And forget we met."

  Bayar waited until Thalia and her companion had parted ways. When it was quiet, he continued silently. Just before the throne room, he slipped under the staircase and descended into the dungeons. From there, he passed through two doors and entered the library. Rath Frost, the kingdom's librarian, wasn't there or was hiding in one of the corners again. Bayar wasn't looking for him; he was looking for the third row, where the books on the kingdom's history were kept. The third shelf of books was next to a door. The door was old, covered in dust, and unpainted for so many years that it had almost blended with the color of the wall, and few people would have noticed it. Bayar bent down and pressed it lightly.

  Before entering, he looked around. Rath was nowhere to be seen. He closed the door behind him.

  He found himself in a new room, significantly smaller than the library, but it also had books on either side of its corridor. In the distance was an old wooden desk. Before the desk was a chair, a chair that, instead of wooden legs, had iron wheels. And on the chair, with her back to him, sat a woman. The two candles in front of her blended with her red hair, making the flames look even larger. The woman stared ahead and downward at her desk.

  She didn't turn or move.

  "I told you to come only at night, Bayar."

  Her voice made him feel better.

  He loved coming to Her.

  "Move me to the bed, Bayar."

  He approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She still hadn't looked at him, yet she knew he was there. How did she do that? He had long since stopped asking such questions. Sometimes he wanted to ask her again, but then he refrained. Usually, she decided whether he should learn something new, and amazingly, she always chose the right moment to tell him. She had convinced him that she couldn't read his thoughts, only see through his eyes, but he didn't entirely believe her. How could you enter someone's consciousness without reading their thoughts? At least that's how Bayar imagined it.

  He stood up and grabbed the wooden chair with wheels, made just for her, pulling it back to free it from the desk.

  "No, Bayar. Carry me in your arms."

  At first, he was surprised, but then he bent down and slid his right arm under her paralyzed legs while supporting her back with his left. She was tall and very thin. She didn't weigh more than the large dogs he sometimes had to fetch from the queen's courtyard. He smelled her scent. Despite Jasmine always staying in this room and never going outside, she smelled lovely. She smelled of herbs. He didn't know how she managed it, but as he carried her, he became intoxicated. Her eyes were slightly closed. She was about the same age as the queen or a little older, with the same features. She was beautiful, even though her time spent in the small room in the library had taken a toll on her.

  Her bed wasn't far away. It was a wooden cot next to the stone wall with white linens that Bayar changed every few days with the help of librarian Rath. Rath also knew about Jasmine but kept quiet. Selen wanted him to keep quiet. The other person who knew about her was Bayar. But Selen probably didn't know that Bayar came here. And it would be best if she didn't find out, at least not yet.

  He laid her gently on the bed and stepped back.

  "Hand me the ring."

  On the desk where she had just been sitting, it gleamed. The ring. Bayar knew why she wanted it. The ring had engraved symbols, one of which resembled an eye. There was a story behind the ring, which Jasmine had once told him, but he remembered nothing of it. Now he regretted it because he knew it wasn't nonsense as he had initially thought. Now he saw that it worked. And it worked on him.

  Jasmine took the ring in her hands and first held it in her palms. Her eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling. Bayar had witnessed this before, and it wasn't the most pleasant thing to do, but if Jasmine wanted it, he obeyed.

  "Wake me up if things go wrong."

  "How will I know if things go wrong?"

  "You'll know. I'll be telling you the whole time. Listen carefully and hold my other hand."

  Jasmine held the ring with her left hand, placing her right in his palms. She didn't look at him, only up.

  He wasn't sure if he imagined it, but it felt like some force passed through him. Then she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were white, her pupil shrunk to a tiny black dot.

  At first, nothing happened. Bayar held her hand, and she occasionally trembled. But then she did start to speak.

  "Hotol is holding something in his hands. I can't see what it is, but I feel it's light. To the touch, it's the same as what King Severin took from them last time when he defeated them in the sandy valleys on their territory. The wild people had done nothing to him, and they didn't expect it. That's why they're angry now. And they're taking the only item they have left to the North."

  Bayar listened to her but understood almost nothing. He had heard about the wildlings from her, knew about items like her eye, but nothing else. But Jasmine knew. She knew a lot.

  "The hordes with Hotol are many, but not as many as last time. Yes, Severin killed many of them, but enough remained. They're heading North. They must take at least this item there. But I can't see it. I can't see it. But I feel its power."

  Jasmine squeezed his hand. She was excited. Bayar didn't know what to say or do. He just stood there, listening and holding her hand.

  "Hotol is the strongest of the tribe. There are always at least two women around him. But now there are four. Three of them are young and carry a cushion. On the cushion is the next item. The gift! The women aren't warriors like them, but they're beautiful. All the wild women are beautiful. They help them and fight well, but they're not strong enough to fight, though sometimes there are such women."

  Honestly, Bayar had no idea what Jasmine was talking about. Who were these names, and where were they going? Yes, they were probably wildlings, but did she see them now, or was she seeing their future? That he didn't understand. He doubted she would tell him even when she woke up. She wasn't like that; she didn't share much, even with him. Sometimes he felt she was just using him.

  "The tribe is marching slowly. They crossed the sand and are now stepping onto more fertile land. They passed over the last remaining bridge. Severin burned the others, but the non-fighting members of the tribes had already started rebuilding the destroyed ones. Solis passed easily. Ajax didn't stop them. He didn't even try. They expected to pass easily, but not that easily. They knew that first king wasn't very serious and drank a lot. His people followed suit and became the same. But they were worried about the second one. Because she was a woman. It was Selen."

  Jasmine woke up. Her pupils returned to their normal size, and the ring was no longer in her hand. She had dropped it on the bed.

  "Did you hear everything?"

  "Yes, but I didn't understand much. Were those wildling tribes?"

  Jasmine didn't answer him. Naturally, he didn't expect anything else. But he knew that was it. And Hotol was a wildling name. There were no such names in Meihar or the northern kingdoms.

  "A new battle is coming. They're heading North again."

  "A battle? Where?"

  "I don't know, Bayar. You'll have to find out. You'll have to..." Jasmine didn't finish. Bayar knew what she meant. She wanted to enter him again and see through his eyes. He didn't like that, but he couldn't refuse her. She couldn't walk, but he still feared her.

  "They killed Randolf." Jasmine quickly changed the subject.

  "Randolf?"

  "The one who had the bone and lost it to Severin."

  "Hotol, Hurnak, Vortok, and Borvak. I saw them in Hotol's memories. They surrounded Randolf and first chopped off his arms, then his legs. Finally, they left him alive in the hot sand without limbs. Four warriors remained. Now it's Hotol's turn."

  "They killed one of their own for some item?"

  "Not just any item. A divine item. An item similar to the ring." Jasmine picked it up again.

  "Didn't you say you couldn't read their minds, only see through their eyes?"

  "I can, Bayar, but not always. It's hard. It's hard to control these items. It takes a lot of strength, strength I don't yet have."

  Jasmine spoke to him without looking at him. Bayar was used to her oddities. Sometimes he felt like her servant, but he knew he wasn't. She needed legs, and he needed protection. They both gave each other what they needed. At least that's how he saw it. Had she read his thoughts too? She had never told him if she did.

  "I want water."

  Bayar brought her some.

  Jasmine propped herself up with both hands on the bed. She dipped her fingers in the water, moistened them, and rubbed them over her eyes. Then she ran wet fingers over her lips. She didn't drink the water. She waited for the drops to sink deeply into her lips, then lay back down again.

  "Is it light outside, Bayar?"

  "No."

  "You know, I went back."

  Bayar waited, not responding. He waited for her to continue.

  "Between my passage into another's eyes, I always go back. It happens quickly, almost instantly. And it happened again. We were little. My sister was sitting at the table, playing with one of her favorite dolls made of goose feathers. Our mother's ladies often made such dolls for her. I was there, but I didn't have such a doll. They never made such things for me. I couldn't even go outside to play with the children. I just sat and watched my sister run around the throne room while the ladies cheered her on. No one came to me. Only Clar came to me. Clar was one of our mother's oldest ladies. But she passed away soon after that."

  "And?"

  "That's it. Then I moved on to the wildling."

  The wildlings. That's what it was. He had known, but he hadn't been sure. However, he didn't know why she was telling him about her memory. There was no logic in it. Not that the other things had any. Often, when he was with her, he didn't understand much. But that was normal.

  "Did anyone see you on your way?"

  "There's no one. Only Rath is here."

  "Did he see you?"

  "He knows I come. He wouldn't tell anyone."

  "Bayar! He knows you come, but if he sees you here every day, he'll become suspicious."

  "Suspicious of what? I bring you food. Only I, Rath, and the queen know you're here."

  "Fenris too."

  "Fenris?"

  "Think, Bayar, wouldn't you tell your brother? Especially if your brother is the librarian."

  "Even if that's true, there's nothing to worry about."

  "Is there anything new in the kingdom? Anything you haven't told me?"

  "I thought you could see for yourself. You know..."

  "No." She stopped him. "I haven't looked through your eyes in a while. And I usually tell you."

  That was true. She always told him. But he had sensed her a few times. Or so he thought.

  "The chambermaids have been scurrying around the corridors. I think we're expecting guests."

  "Guests? From another kingdom?"

  "Yes. Someone from the North. I also heard something about wildlings, but I don't know."

  As he said it, he realized. Everything fit. The wildlings Jasmine had seen traveling on the main road, and Severin coming down. Yes, that's it. They were on the move again. Jasmine had said it, but he hadn't understood. Now this visit made perfect sense in the story. Surely King Severin would ask for men and go south with them. He probably wasn't coming for anything else. Now he had to find out what Hotol looked like and whether Jasmine could still see through him. And now she was looking at him. For the first time since he had arrived, she wasn't looking at the ceiling but at him.

  "Bayar? Did Lady Selen meet with her three ladies?" Jasmine continued her questioning.

  "I don't know. But I heard Thalia, the smallest one, talking to someone in the corridors."

  "Did they see you?"

  "No. I was hidden in the dark. The person she was talking to threatened her."

  "Who was it?"

  "That I don't know either. The voice sounded female, but it was quite rough. The person warned Thalia not to be too close to Lady Selen. Thalia said nothing in response." Bayar continued. "I waited until the other person left, and they parted ways."

  "And you?"

  "I left when I was sure there was no one in the corridors."

  Jasmine studied his frightened face as if she were examining him. Or perhaps she was trying to enter him again. No, that wasn't possible. The ring with the eye wasn't in her hand. And besides, he was here; it wouldn't make sense for her to do it now.

  "Look at me, Bayar."

  He was already looking at her.

  "How was Thalia dressed?"

  The question surprised him.

  "T... Is that so important?"

  "It is, Bayar. I want your mind to be precise. You listened to them, but your eyes also worked without you giving them importance. I want to hear what they remembered."

  Bayar looked away. She would know if he was lying. She knew him well. Eighty-two candles, thirteen doors, and only one with a different-colored lock. And the chambermaid Irrit. She was wearing a yellow dress and a white apron. Thalia?

  "A white dress."

  He remembered, though it was obvious.

  "That's clear. She always wears white. The trim?"

  "Blue. No... Black. They were black. They ran down the sides of her sleeves."

  Bayar got excited and almost stood up.

  "How was her hair tied?"

  "Normally, in a knot with a ribbon."

  "Color?"

  "Black."

  "Bayar?" She loved calling him by name and genuinely enjoyed each time he flinched when he heard it. "Have you ever had visions?"

  "No." What kind of question was that?

  "I've had one. Just once."

  "Something with the ring?" Bayar looked for it.

  "No. Long before I had it. I received it the same day I lost the ability to walk."

  Bayar had never heard this story, though he had always wanted to ask.

  "H-How?"

  "A childhood game. Me, my sister, and two boys in the kingdom's courtyard. The boys were sons of the servants... Like you." She looked at him, apparently interested in whether he would be offended. He wasn't. "And in the game, one of them hit me with a large stick on the back."

  "And then...?"

  "Yes." She pointed to her legs. "Since then, I haven't been able to walk. But as I fell, I saw something I still can't understand."

  Bayar said nothing. He just looked at her.

  "I saw my sister's death. Selen's death."