An awkward silence passed between us. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Please be careful. I distrust everyone at the temple.”

  “I do too, but I don’t fear for my life.”

  Asher’s eyes were on me as I climbed the green tiled stairs. Once through the courtyard and inside the doors, I requested an audience with the High Priestess for the second time that day.

  The girl at the desk blinked her eyes.

  “I’m Leila’s sister.”

  “It’s a pity you didn’t remain here at the temple,” she said. “We received an endowment from the Assyrian governor who comes to the temple when he visits Tadmur. You had potential. You missed the Court of Goddesses when the initiates graduated to priestesses. Leila now wears a crown of jewels. You would have been at her side.”

  “I chose a different life,” I said, trying not to let her rattle me.

  The young woman leaned across the desk, jangling her gold bracelets. “You could have been even more valuable than Leila. You have a presence, and yet a beguiling purity. From the moment you danced, Armana wanted you for herself. To train personally.”

  I was astonished. “But I’m not—”

  “You haven’t looked into a mirror lately, have you?”

  “I’m sure I’m quite hideous. Especially after this morning.”

  “That’s true,” the girl said, wrinkling her nose at my wounds. “But Armana called you unruly. Wild. With jewels and silks, no man could resist you.”

  I choked on the sweet, cloying incense filling the halls, not wanting to hear her snake-like words. “Just call for Armana.”

  “She’s already here.”

  I whipped around to see the High Priestess standing in the doorway. She was serene. Perfect in her eloquent beauty. But shrewdness spilled over her eyes. “You’ve returned.”

  “Only to get my sister. Please,” I added, wishing I didn’t have to grovel. “My father is heartbroken, my grandmother dying. She needs to come home.”

  “What do I get in return for one of Ashtoreth’s anointed priestesses?”

  “I have a cache of gold and frankincense in payment for her life,” I said, holding out the pouch Kadesh had given me.

  Armana transferred Kadesh’s pouch of coins and frankincense to the palace guards, waving a hand through the air as though it was nothing. “We already have storehouses full of frankincense and myrrh for our temple ceremonies.” She gave a smug smile, the gold shavings sprinkled in her hair glittering balefully at me. “What else do you have?”

  “Isn’t my sister’s soul and virtue enough for you?”

  Her eyes latched on to mine. My heart slammed against my ribs. We stood only inches apart. Her breath was sweet, her skin lovely. She was a dream in her gown and jewels but she also frightened me. I had no other bribery or enticements to offer for Leila’s freedom.

  I slipped my hand down to my dagger, not daring to break the gaze between us.

  “Are you afraid, Jayden?” she said softly.

  Sweat trickled down my neck. “Of course not.”

  “Then you won’t mind uniting with one of the priests of Ba’al as payment for your sister. It’s early spring and the Sacred Marriage Rites are upon us.”

  “Don’t insult me.”

  “You’re insulting me,” she said, grabbing my arm. Driving her fingernails into my flesh, she added in a low, terrible voice, “I thought you said you’d do anything for your sister.”

  “You know I would never agree to that.”

  Her brown eyes studied me. Laughed at me. “Then perhaps you’ll agree to my final offer. I will give you Leila,” she said, breathing the power of the Goddess across my face. “And you will give me a night with Kadesh, the prince of the frankincense lands.”

  Outraged, I grabbed my dagger and swung the blade at her—inches from slashing her perfect beauty. Instantly, the guards pounced, their swords at my neck. “You want me to give you a night with Kadesh—just like you spent nights with my betrothed, Horeb, the prince of Nephish?”

  She didn’t disclose any surprise, but there was no mistaking the hard glint of guilt in her eyes. Accusing her of consorting with Horeb had been a gamble, but Horeb drunkenly admitted he’d been visiting the Temple of Ashtoreth the night he tried to rape me at the pond.

  Armana laughed. “Why shouldn’t I have both your men? You’re obviously having a difficult time keeping them close and well satisfied.”

  “I will kill you before I let you touch Kadesh.”

  She waved away my blade and swept the train of her gown across the room. “I have guards waiting for my orders to carry you out of here. Maybe still alive—maybe with your tongue cut out.”

  “What kind of game are you playing?”

  “This is no game, stupid girl,” she said, reversing her path to swing back around to me, venom on her face. “As the High Priestess of Ashtoreth, I want the most valuable man in all of Mesopotamia, the wealthiest, the most coveted. It’s the season for fertility and new life. Abundant blessings from the goddess. And Ashtoreth wants a love child to raise up to do her will. A child who will adore the Goddess with perfect love and obedience—willing to be sacrificed for Ashtoreth if necessary.”

  “Have you lost all shame? You’d give your soul to the Goddess and sacrifice an innocent baby?”

  Armana snaked out her arm to grab a lock of my hair, pulling me intimately close. “The Goddess of Ashtoreth and the Prince of Sariba would create the most perfect goddess child together.”

  The image of this woman and Kadesh together—lying naked on a bed of silks in a candlelit room—made me nauseous.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Jayden. The picture of Kadesh and me in your mind. But denying me the man you love means never seeing Leila again. Now go get him for me. He and I will become one with the Goddess and create the world over again in her image.”

  “Bring me Leila first. I want to see my sister.”

  Armana snapped her fingers, her red mouth a slash of poison. “You don’t get to make bargains with the Goddess, heathen girl!”

  “Let me see her!” I demanded. My voice echoed off the stone walls, and before I could stop myself, I shoved past Armana and flung open the doors to the inner hallway.

  Two guards glanced at me, startled, but I was already running down the corridor. The High Priestess had forgotten one thing. I’d lived here for weeks, and I knew exactly where to find Leila.

  The dimly lit halls were filled with voluptuous goddess statues. Wall sconces flickered heat and melting wax. Doors and courtyards branched off, sculpted columns rising overhead. I was running deeper into the enemy’s lair. Asher and I had never planned any sort of signal in case I was in trouble. I would just have to find my own way out—somehow.

  I came to a polished staircase and leaped the steps as the sound of chasing guards drifted into the distance. The stairs disappeared up into shadows. I quickly took the corner landing to a new hallway, and then a smaller staircase before the guards could figure out where I’d gone.

  Here were the bedrooms where I’d recovered from Horeb’s brutal attack. The baths and saunas I’d enjoyed with their luxurious water, scented soaps, and rich towels.

  After glancing in both directions, I burst through the bedroom I’d shared with my sister. My chest heaved from running up so many stairs, the bruises and cuts from the stoning flaming with fresh pain.

  The bedroom was empty. No lamps were lit. Afternoon sun drenched the floor from the long windows. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Big dark eyes set in a drawn face, a tangled mess of hair falling past my waist. The hem of my mother’s dress was filthy where I’d kneeled at my father’s dungeon hole.

  No wonder Armana taunted me. She was confident she could sway Kadesh with a flick of her little finger. I pushed the High Priestess from my mind. Night was coming much too fast. With every passing hour, Horeb was moving closer.

  “Leila!” I hissed into the stillness. “Where are you?”

  She s
hould have been here dressing for the evening meal.

  No other girls were in sight. The suite was emptier than it should have been, but my eyes focused on the strange details. The bedclothes were thrown back and wrinkled. Crumbs of cake lay on the table. A half-empty flask of wine stood next to it. No hairbrushes or jumble of jewels were on the dressing tables, but a forlorn ribbon trailed off the edge next to a broken comb.

  The closet doors hung open, swinging on their hinges. Except for a forgotten dress, a torn shawl, and a pair of old sandals stuffed into the corner, it had been emptied.

  My mother’s prized alabaster box was gone, too. I’d left it at the temple with Leila because there was no room on my camel for anything but food and water. My mother’s wedding gift didn’t belong at the temple; it belonged with me. Putting a hand on the wall to steady myself, I turned the corner to where the bureau stood. One by one I pulled open the drawers with shaking hands. They were vacant, too, except for a few forgotten silks. It was as though someone had recently packed and left in a hurry.

  Lurching out of the closet, I ran to the adjoining suite and pushed through the double doors into a huge upper hall.

  Golden light, laughter, and music surrounded me. Abundant food weighted down the tables, more than I’d seen in months. Girls in silk dresses and intricate hairstyles stretched across divans. A few were singing, others sipped red wine; giggles, whispers, and jokes filled the air.

  My eyes blurred with the sight of so many people and so much sumptuous richness. “Leila?”

  My presence didn’t appear to be noted. The musicians in the far corner played loudly while drums pounded a familiar sensuous rhythm under the soles of my feet. In the center of the large room girls were dancing, their legs drifting in and out of exotic linen dresses, their breasts bared like the women of Egypt, accents of gold collars about their necks.

  I hid behind a curtain when I spotted several foreign men watching the girls dance. My heart pounded until it hurt. I stared at the girls, trying to identify Leila.

  There was laughing and clapping while two girls wound bloodred silks around a statue of Ashtoreth in the far corner. The girls appeared drunk. The room was hazy with incense and the heat of the wall sconce torches.

  One by one, the Egyptian men chose a temple priestess and disappeared through open doors into rooms lit with candles. Rooms adorned in heavy drapes and plush beds.

  My stomach churned. I felt ill.

  And then I saw her. My sister, wearing a see-through lavender gown, swaying as though she’d been drugged, her eyes half closed.

  “Leila!” I screamed, darting forward, but my voice was small, blanketed by the music and party. I pushed past girls hovering over the food tables, the circles of dancers and men who were touching them as they moved to the music, their eyes on fire with desire. Pushing through the crowd was like swimming upstream through a torrent of water during a storm.

  “Leila!” I shouted again. Not a moment later, I watched, stunned, as the foreign men surrounding her grabbed my sister and two other girls. Picking them up, they put the girls over their shoulders and moved swiftly through a set of double doors on the far side of the room.

  Leila’s head flopped. Her black hair drifted down the man’s back, her arms limp. She was clearly not coherent.

  Jostling through the crowd, I stumbled over goblets left carelessly on the tiled floor, forgotten silk shawls sliding under my feet. When I reached the same double doors, the room beyond was empty. I kept going, my legs heavy as tree stumps.

  Another staircase went down and I took the steps two at a time. One of the kidnappers glanced up and saw me. He shouted to the others, and they picked up their pace. Then, as if taunting me, he grabbed a wall sconce and dripped hot wax along the steps above him.

  When I slowed to avoid burning my feet, the men and the captive girls disappeared. Halls branched off in several directions. They were gone. As if a magical door had swallowed them up.

  A servant girl rounded a corner, carrying a tray. “Who are you?” she asked, reaching out a hand to touch my arm.

  “Those girls—the men—who came through here just now. Where did they go?”

  Her eyes darted about the empty corridor. “I’m sure I don’t know who you mean.”

  I took her arm and shook it. “You had to have seen them. They have my sister.”

  “Who’s your sister?”

  “Leila. She’s—she’s one of the newly ordained temple priestesses.”

  The girl nodded, as if unsure how to answer me. “Yes, I know who you mean.”

  “I was upstairs. There was a party, dancing. And foreign men. They took Leila and two other girls . . . and disappeared.”

  The servant girl bit her lips and backed away from me. I could tell she wanted to turn around and pretend I didn’t exist. “The High Priestess Armana has been entertaining dignitaries from Egypt. A few girls volunteered to go with them to Egypt. A caravan leaves tonight.”

  “Egypt?” I echoed. “Where do the caravans leave from? Tell me.”

  A vision of Leila’s empty suite of rooms—clothes torn from hangers, drawers emptied in a hurry—pieces of her left behind. She’d packed haphazardly. Or someone had packed for her.

  “Tell me!” I urged.

  “Those doors over there. Down that staircase to the bottom of the temple. The delivery area.”

  I pushed through the door, my breath heaving, and found myself stumbling down a circular set of stone steps. When I reached the bottom, I pushed through the final door and out into a wide hallway. Servants were moving crates, organizing food baskets. Nobody paid any attention to me.

  A young girl sorted linens by color and size. “Did a group of Egyptians come through here?” I asked her.

  She stared at me as though she couldn’t speak. Finally, she nodded and pointed to one of the doors leading to the outside. “Through there.”

  I ran down the hall and pushed open the door. Cool evening air rushed across my face. Fresh camel and horse tracks were visible. Footprints and mud and chariot wheels.

  The foreign caravan was gone with hardly a trace. If they had even come this direction. Or had I been duped as to which route they’d taken? I’d heard of underground tunnels connecting the Temple of Ba’al and the Temple of Ashtoreth. Those foreigners could have easily slipped through those secret passageways.

  My sister had been kidnapped. The High Priestess Armana had arranged it all.

  I fell to the ground, pounding the stone, wishing I’d run faster, wishing I’d screamed louder.

  I stared down at the empty sand with its hollow imprints of camels and wagons. I’d failed my sister, and there was a good chance I’d lost her forever.

  The night was silent, the hills of Tadmur hovering shadows of doom.

  What would I tell my father?

  In a daze, I slipped around the wall of the temple to the closest gate and followed the path back to the plaza. Every part of my body screamed in pain, but my heart hurt worst of all.

  “Jayden!” a quiet voice called out from a shadowed alley behind me. It was Asher.

  I whirled. “You startled me. How did you know it was me?”

  “I have a tendency to recognize the people I save from death.” He was trying to coax a smile from me, but I was too exhausted to respond.

  Asher helped me onto his horse and then slapped the reins, joining the Edomites who came out of the evening like specters and enclosed us in their ranks. Moments later we rode out the southern gates of Tadmur. Away from the oasis, away from the camp of Nephish. Away from the western roads to Damascus—and away from Leila.

  I spotted Kadesh and my father at the crossroads waiting for us, and ran into my father’s arms so hard I almost knocked him over.

  “Jayden,” he said, his voice trembling. “Where’s Leila?”

  “Don’t tell me she’s still packing.” Concern lay in Kadesh’s eyes, despite the smile of optimism he forced onto his lips.

  I shook my head and Ka
desh held me carefully, so as not to hurt my wounds. “Where’s Leila?” he asked gently. “Did you see the High Priestess?”

  Armana’s request to use the body of the man I loved was seared into my mind. I wanted to banish her ugly words, but it was almost impossible. “She was her usual lying, manipulative self.”

  My father began to tremble, and I knew he feared the worst. I reached for his hands. “Leila is alive. I can tell you that much. But she’s gone. I watched her carried away on an Egyptian caravan. Her bedroom had been cleaned out. There was a party, the girls were drunk and more wanton than I’ve ever seen before . . . somehow I know it was planned. Purposeful.”

  Kadesh shook his head. “Why would Armana send priestesses to Egypt? She wouldn’t let such valuable girls go without being paid handsomely.”

  My father tore at his gray hair. “Leila barely survived the journey to Tadmur a year ago. How can she travel to Egypt? It will kill her.” He slumped to the ground, groaning, and Kadesh knelt beside him, holding him while he trembled with grief. I watched the two men I loved comfort each other. My chest filled with such a hard knot of emotion I couldn’t even speak.

  Finally, Kadesh lifted my father from the dirt, speaking in low tones while Chemish brought his camel. Then he took my hands. “I almost lost you today, and now I have to ask you to bear even more as we begin this long journey while you’re hurt and not well.”

  “You gave me a gift placing Asher as my personal guard. I’m still alive because of him.”

  A huge bull camel lumbered up, led by one of the Edomites, a large litter already perched on its back. “I don’t need a litter for traveling, Kadesh. I don’t need to be spoiled,” I said.

  My father spoke up. “Your grandmother decided she’d rather die with her family in the Empty Sands than live with a tribe that would stone you and leave her son to rot in prison.”

  A rush of joy surged through me. “Seraiah is here?”

  My father nodded and Chemish said, “We must leave immediately. We’ve procured rations and will travel until midnight. We’ll push hard this first week to keep ahead of Horeb.”