Page 200 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

“An old one,” Elder Vara explained, when Tané only bowed in return. “It is a swelling she has had since childhood.”

“I see.” The learnèd Moyaka patted the mats, where a blanket and a headrest had been placed. “Open your tunic, please, honorable scholar, and lie down.”

Tané did as instructed.

“Tell me, Purumé,” Elder Vara said to the doctor, “have there been any more attacks in Seiiki by the Fleet of the Tiger Eye?”

“Not since the night they came to Ginura, to my knowledge,” Moyaka replied heavily. “But they will soon return. The Golden Empress is emboldened.”

It took Tané all her willpower not to shrink from her touch. The lump was still tender.

“Ah, here it is.” Moyaka traced the shape of the lump. “How many years have you taken, honorable scholar?”

“Twenty,” Tané said softly.

“And you have had this all your life?”

“Since I was a child. My learnèd teacher said my rib was broken once.”

“Does it ever hurt?”

“Sometimes.”

“Hm.” Moyaka probed it with two fingertips. “From the feel of it, it is most likely a bone spur—nothing to be concerned about—but I would like to make a small incision. Just to be sure.” She opened a leather case. “Will you need something for the pain?”

The old Tané would have refused, but all she had wanted since arriving here was to feel nothing. To forget herself.

One of the younger scholars brought ice from the caves, wrapped in wool to keep it cold. Moyaka prepared the drug, and Tané drank it in through a pipe. The smoke rubbed her throat raw. When it reached her chest, it blew a dark, sweet comfort through her blood, and her body was half feather and half stone, sinking as her thoughts grew light.

The weight of her shame evaporated. For the first time in weeks, she breathed easy.

Moyaka held the ice to her side. Once Tané could no longer feel much there, the doctor selected an instrument, washed it in boiled water, and glided its edge beneath the lump.

A far-off pain registered. The shadow of pain. Tané pressed her palms to the floor.

“Are you well, child?” Elder Vara asked.

There were three of him. Tané nodded, and the world seemed to nod with her. Moyaka peeled the incision open.

“This is—” She blinked. “Strange. Very strange.”

Tané tried to raise her head, but her neck was weak as a blade of grass. Elder Vara placed a hand on her shoulder. “What is it, Purumé?”

“I can’t be sure until I remove it,” was the puzzled reply, “but . . . well, it almost looks like a—”

Her finding was cut off by a shattering crash from outside.

“Another earthshake,” Elder Vara said. His voice sounded so far away.

“That did not feel like an earthshake.” Moyaka stiffened. “Great Kwiriki save us—”

A glow burst through the window. The floor trembled, and someone shoutedfire. Moments later, the same voice let out a spine-chilling scream before it cut off sharply.

“Fire-breathers.” Elder Vara was already on his feet. “Tané, quickly. We must take shelter in the ravine.”

Fire-breathers. But no fire-breathers had been seen in the East for centuries . . .

He pulled her arm around his bony shoulders and lifted her from the mats. Tané swayed. Her mind was spindrift, but she had kept enough sense to move. Shoeless and numbed, she went with Elder Vara and Doctor Moyaka through the corridors and into the dining hall, where he slid open the door to the courtyard. Other scholars were making for the forest.

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