They went down into Rojer’s wing, and Leesha pounded on the door to the chambers the two Krasian girls had claimed. She could hear Amanvah’s muffled wails through the door, and Sikvah shouted in Krasian for them to go away.

Leesha frowned. “Rojer,” she said loudly, “run and fetch Gared. If this door isn’t open by the time you get back, have him break it down.” Rojer nodded and ran off.

As expected, the door cracked open a moment later, and a terrified Sikvah peeked out. “Everything sunny,” she said, but Leesha shoved past her into the room, following Amanvah’s voice toward the privy chamber at the back of the room. Sikvah shrieked and tried to interpose herself, but again Leesha ignored her and tried the door. It was locked.

“Where is the key?” she demanded. Sikvah ignored her, babbling in Krasian, but Leesha had had enough. She slapped the girl hard on the cheek, the crack echoing through the room.

“Stop pretending you don’t understand me!” she snapped. “I’m not an idiot. You say one more word in Krasian and the Damajah’s anger will be the least of your worries.”

Sikvah did not reply, but the terrified look on her face made it clear she had understood.

“Where. Is. The. Key?” Leesha asked again, biting off each word with a show of teeth. Sikvah quickly reached into her robes, producing it.

Leesha was through the door in an instant. The richly appointed privy stank of waste and vomit, only made worse by the jasmine burning in the incense brazier, a sickly combination that would have made most anyone heave. Leesha ignored the stench, going straight to Amanvah, lying on the floor next to the commode, wailing and moaning. Her hood and veils were cast aside, and her olive skin seemed almost white.

“She’s dehydrated,” Leesha said. “Bring a pitcher of cold water and set a kettle on the fire.” Sikvah ran off, and Leesha continued to inspect the girl, as well as the contents of the commode. Finally, she sniffed at the cup on the vanity table, tasting the residue.

“You brewed this poorly,” she told Amanvah. “You could have used a third as much fleshroot and still safely counteracted the blackleaf.” The young dama’ting said nothing, staring blankly as she labored for breath, but Leesha knew she heard and understood every word.

She took a mortar and pestle from her apron, hands darting from pocket to pocket without so much as a glance as she filled it with the proper mixture of herbs. Sikvah brought the hot water, and Leesha brewed a second potion, bidding Sikvah to hold her mistress up as she forced it down the girl’s throat.

“Open the windows to blow in some fresh air,” Leesha told Sikvah, “and bring pillows. She’ll need to stay by the commode for the next few hours as we hydrate her.”

Rojer and Gared stuck their heads in, and Leesha promptly sent them to bed. She and Sikvah tended Amanvah until her insides calmed and they could carry her to the bed.

“Sleep’s the best thing for you now,” Leesha said, putting another potion to Amanvah’s lips. “You’ll wake in twelve hours and then we’ll try to get some rice and bread into you.”

“Why are you doing this?” Amanvah whispered, her accent thick like her mother’s, but every word clear. “My mother would not be so kind to one who tried to poison her.”

“Nor would mine, but we are not our mothers, Amanvah,” Leesha said.

Amanvah smiled. “When next I face her, I may wish the poison had killed me.”

Leesha shook her head. “You’re under my roof now. No one is going to do anything to you, including forcing you to marry Rojer if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, but we do, mistress,” Sikvah said. “The handsome son of Jessum is touched by Everam. First and second wives to such a man, what more could any woman aspire to?”

Leesha opened her mouth to reply, then promptly closed it again, knowing any answer she gave would fall upon uncomprehending ears.

Elona was sitting in the hall when Leesha finally emerged from Amanvah’s chambers. Leesha sighed, wanting nothing more than to crawl into her bed herself, but Elona stood and moved to walk with her back to the stairs.

“It true what Rojer says?” Elona asked. “The girls tried to poison you?”

Leesha nodded.

Elona smiled. “Means Inevera thinks you’ve got a good chance of stealing him from her.”

“I’m fine, if you care,” Leesha said.

“Course you are,” Elona said. “You’re my daughter, like or not. Ent no desert witch going to stop you once you’ve got a shine for a man.”

“I don’t want to steal another woman’s husband, Mother,” Leesha said.

Elona laughed. “Then why are you here?”

“To try and stop a war,” Leesha said flatly.

“And if the cost of stopping a war is stealing the husband of a woman who tried to murder you?” Elona asked. “Is that too high a price to pay?” She snorted. “Ent stealing, anyways. These women share husbands like hens share roosters.”

Leesha rolled her eyes. “Oh, to be so lucky as to be one of Ahmann’s laying hens.”

“Better than the ones gone to slaughter,” Elona shot back.

They reached Leesha’s apartments, and Elona followed her in. Leesha fell onto a pillowed divan, putting her head in her hands. “I wish Bruna were here. She’d know what to do.”

“She’d marry Jardir and tame him,” Elona said. “If she had your body and youth, she’d’ve bent both Deliverers to her will by now, and gotten her toes curled to sweeten the pot.”

“You can’t know that, Mother,” Leesha said.

“I know better than you,” Elona said. “I was apprenticed to that miserable old hag before you were ever born, and there were a scant few alive then old enough to remember Bruna in her prime. Her legs never closed, to hear them say it, until she married late in life, and she ran that town even more surely than she did in her dotage. More surely than you run it now, because she had power, not just here,” Elona poked Leesha in the temple, “but here, as well.” She stabbed a finger to point at her own crotch. “That is a woman’s power, as much as gathering herbs, and only a fool chooses not to take advantage of it.”

Leesha opened her mouth to protest, but for some reason her mother’s words rang true, and no rebuttal came to her. Bruna had been a filthy old woman, full of bawdy remarks and tales of her promiscuous youth. Leesha had dismissed many of the stories, thinking the old woman had simply liked to shock people, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“Take advantage how?” she asked.

“Jardir is obsessed with you,” Elona said. “Any woman can read it on him at a glance. That is why Inevera fears you, and why you have an opportunity to take this desert snake by the throat and turn it aside from your people.”

“My people,” Leesha said. “The Hollow.”

“Of course, the Hollow!” Elona snapped. “Rizon’s sun has set, and ent nothing for it.”

“What of Angiers?” Leesha asked. “Lakton? Every hamlet between here and there? I might be able to protect the Hollow, but what can I do for them?”

“From Jardir’s bed?” Elona asked, incredulous. “Is there a place in the world you could influence the war more? Slake a man’s lust, and he will give you anything you ask. Surely that big brain of yours can think of a few simple requests to turn the worst of his tide.”