The long corridors of the kingdom had long ceased to be a problem for him. He could navigate them blindfolded, recognizing his location without a second thought. Sometimes, he felt like a mouse hiding in the dungeons, occasionally emerging in rooms only to send everyone into a panic. His family home on the outskirts of the capital stood empty. He didn’t remember his father. As a child, his mother had told him stories about him, but even those tales had faded from his memory. Eventually, he stopped asking. It didn’t matter since his father wasn’t there. As he grew older, he realized that in this place, men weren’t highly valued. He had a choice: either to hide in the kingdom’s corridors or to flee. He chose the former and never regretted it.
“Bayar?”
He recognized the voice without turning but did so anyway.
“I’m sorry, Thalia. I shouldn’t have…”
“Don’t apologize, Bayar. Just hide. Quickly.”
Thalia glanced down the corridor, but there was no one in sight. She seemed afraid of something.
Bayar had known Thalia for a long time, ever since she was a child. Unlike Valeris and Ivora, she had grown up in the kingdom. She was the daughter of a servant in Selene’s retinue. However, her mother died in a bizarre accident that no one understood. Selene took Thalia in and treated her as her own child. It had been like that for over fifteen years. Bayar had been there all along too. He wasn’t adopted by the queen, but his mother was the best cook in the kingdom. As children, they often met, running and playing in the corridors. But as they grew older, Thalia distanced herself, becoming more reserved and spending more time in the queen’s chambers or near her. That she was speaking to him now surprised him.
“What? Why?”
“The other ladies will be passing through here soon. You know they don’t like seeing many men in the corridors.”
“But they know me. They’ve seen me.”
“It’s better if you hide somewhere.”
Was Jasmin seeing through his eyes now? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t feel her presence. She had said she would warn him, but he didn’t trust her. And now, she had given him another task.
Thalia was kind and shy, like a child. If he had encountered Valeris or Ivora, they likely would have scolded him for wandering the palace and then reported him. It had happened before, leading to him being banished from the castle for at least five days, or until his mother found a way to get him back in.
But now, it was important to stay. He had a job from Jasmin, and he had to complete it. He needed to return to her with something belonging to someone close to the queen. Getting something from the queen herself was nearly impossible. Valeris too. That left Thalia or Ivora.
“I came to see my mother,” Bayar lied. “I had something to give her. Gaya, the cook.”
“Of course, I know who your mother is, Bayar. I haven’t forgotten.”
In the distance, footsteps echoed, quick and heavy, accompanied by clattering. Thalia looked into Bayar’s eyes. Her eyes were beautiful. He understood her hint and hid in the darkness. He thought of Jasmin again. Was she watching through his eyes now? Unlikely. Last time, she had been exhausted from her previous vision and had said she wanted to rest. But he couldn’t trust her, so he had to be careful. Most of the time, he could feel her presence. Not now. He assumed she wasn’t here.
Bayar hid in a dark alcove similar to the one he had hidden in last time when Thalia was speaking with someone else. He hoped they wouldn’t see him and that he might hear something useful.
“Thalia?”
This time, he could see both Thalia and the woman with her better. The woman was Ivora, the other lady of the queen. “What are you doing in these corridors?” Ivora looked around.
“Checking one of the rooms,” Thalia replied. “We’re expecting guests, after all, and the queen has tasked me…”
“One of the rooms?” Ivora interrupted. “Are we housing people from Volkar here?”
“No, but you know what the queen said. We need to be prepared for anything. We don’t know if the rooms below will be enough.”
“She told you that, not me.” Ivora was brusque, but she reached out and took Thalia’s hands, looking her directly in the eyes. Bayar wondered what they felt like. His weren’t the smoothest in the world, and his mother’s were rough and thick. The same was true of the maids in the common room. For a moment, he wished to touch Thalia’s hands. They looked snow-white and warm.
Like Jasmin’s.
When he thought of Jasmin, fear gripped him. He had forgotten again that she could be watching or even be inside him now. She had once done it without him noticing. He had felt chills, starting from his neck and running down his back.
“Today is market day in the city.” Ivora’s soft voice pulled him back into their conversation. “Traders from Solis are arriving. Come with me; there might be something interesting. And we can talk.”
“Severin is coming today. The king of Volkar.”
“What do they need us for, Thalia? We’ll greet them, and then they’ll go about their royal business.”
This was his chance. He could succeed there. It would be difficult to get close to any of them in the palace, but out there, among the crowd of people… Yes, there would be guards, but both Ivora and Thalia knew him. If they saw him there, they might speak to him, and then he might succeed.
He didn’t hear Thalia’s reply, but he saw Ivora embrace her, wrapping her arms around her waist. They were close, no doubt about it. As they began to leave, Thalia glanced back at him and made a gesture with her hand, clearly indicating that now was the time to leave. Bayar took a few steps to the side, staying in the dark, and then nearly ran. He was confident Ivora hadn’t noticed him. He had spent years learning to be quick, especially in this kingdom. And thanks to Jasmin, he knew every inch of it by heart.
This time, he took the stairs at the other end of the corridor, which led to the main hallway before the throne room. Here, he had to be careful. Anyone could see him. Red-haired female guards roamed everywhere. In the evening, most would be outside in the courtyard during the queen’s traditional walk through the capital. This reassured him, and he moved cautiously with keen eyes, crossing the entire corridor. Soon, he found himself in the library again. He turned before the third shelf and heard Ratt’s voice:
“Don’t go in there.” Bayar stopped. “The queen’s sister doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
A chill ran down his spine. Ratt knew he visited the queen, but he still felt uneasy whenever they met in the corridors. It felt like he was doing something wrong. And that wasn’t true.
“Yes, boy. You’re visiting more often. I don’t mind, but if you’re caught there even once, things will go badly for you. And probably for me too.” Ratt extended his hands. “Here, take this.”
Bayar accepted a book that had just been in Ratt’s hands. It had a hammer drawn on it, and underneath, the words “Ironwork.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
He didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t refuse. Not if he wanted Ratt to keep his secret.
“You need to go to the blacksmith. There’s a boy there.”
Bayar knew what Ratt would say. The boy’s name was Pip, and his hair was so black it was darker than the tar in the forge.
“I think his name is Pip.” Ratt raised his palm and waved slightly. “Give him this book. And tell him to check the last pages.”
“The last pages?”
“Yes. He needs to craft a gift for King Severin. And tell him it must be done by tonight.”
“Me?” Bayar stood up straight, making sure Ratt saw who was standing there. “This is important.”
“I could tell Valeris to do it, but I don’t like her.” Ratt waved dismissively. “The other option is to go myself, but the thought of it terrifies me. I don’t like leaving Lady Selene’s castle. I’d rather stay here in the library. And Ivora or Thalia are too prissy.” He raised his hand again, but this time pointed a finger upward. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“What if I fail?”
“You won’t fail. I’m not sending you on a military mission, boy. You just need to deliver a book. How hard can that be?” His tone hardened slightly with the last sentence.
“Valeris is the queen’s confidante. Why don’t you trust her?”
The question seemed to surprise him.
“She’s confident, strong, and uncompromising, but I find her a bit foolish.”
“So now we both have a secret. You know I visit Jasmin, and I know you hate everyone around the queen.”
“Secret? I’m just asking you to do something. Is it so difficult? And I adore Selene. Don’t try to threaten me. I’ve survived here for so long, and I’ll survive again. Just do the job, and I’ll keep pretending not to notice your little outings.”
Bayar would do it. He didn’t need more convincing, but he wanted to see how far Ratt would go. And Ratt didn’t disappoint.
“So, boy, you’ve got a little time before the sun sets.” Ratt was still talking. “Go to the forge and find Pip. Give him the book and only him.”
“What if the master blacksmith stops me?”
“You’ll make sure he doesn’t stop you or even notice. I have my reasons for wanting the item made by a man, not a woman.”
“You dare to prefer a man in the women’s kingdom? You could be killed for such words.”
“Are you an executioner or a judge?”
Bayar fell silent, turning the book over in his hands and wiping the dust off with his sleeve. Everything here was covered in dust. The library seemed forgotten, even though Ratt took good care of the books.
“Go in and see Jasmin.”
“But didn’t she say she didn’t want to be disturbed?”
“I lied.”
Bayar almost jumped, rushed to the small door, pushed it open, and entered.
The atmosphere inside hadn’t changed. It was dark, with candles, paintings, trinkets, and garlands, many books, and Jasmin sitting in her wheelchair at her desk, quill in hand.
“Listen to Ratt and do him the favor.”
“I knew it. You’re watching through my eyes. I felt you in the corridor.”
“I haven’t entered you, silly boy. Everything in the library can be heard from here.”
“Ivora and Thalia will be there too. I heard them.”
“I suppose my sister will be there as well unless Severin has arrived. Everyone eagerly awaits such gatherings of traders. Local girls want to show off their newest dresses, hoping she will notice and bring them into the castle, and the traders arrive in their finest attire. Most are men and know what kind of kingdom this is. Almost every time after such an event, at least a dozen pregnancies occur, and the fathers vanish into the next kingdom.”
Jasmin often digressed like this. Bayar knew she loved to talk, especially when she had been alone for so long, and someone appeared. That someone was always him. So he let her speak without interruption, and when she finished, he continued on the topic:
“I don’t know if the queen will be there. Thalia told me…”
“Thalia saw you? Then you were careless. How could you let that happen?”
“I didn’t expect it. She knows these corridors as well as I do.”
“If you didn’t expect it, you were careless.” Jasmin interrupted him, repeating herself, and he looked up. Many things he wanted to say to her, but he didn’t. “What will they do there?”
“I don’t know. Ivora asked her to go, and she agreed. I couldn’t get anything from either of them.”
“I expected that. It would be a miracle if you succeeded on the first try. We don’t have time. Preparations are already being heard outside. Severin could arrive at any moment.” Jasmin pushed away from the desk, and her wheelchair turned. She faced him and looked up to meet his eyes. “I need a strand of your hair.”
“A hair? Why mine?”
“I’ll watch through your eyes. I want to see everything, to see the traders, to see Thalia and Ivora.”
“A hair? You’ve never needed anything of mine. Why now?”
“The connection is stronger. Usually, an object of yours is enough. But a hair makes it stronger.”
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Bayar froze for a moment.
“How do you think this works, boy? I just close my eyes and think of you? No, there are rules. Now, do it.”
***
The weather outside was bad. He could feel the dampness seeping into her room. Some of the stones in the wall became moist, and thin streams of water began to flow down them. She had long stopped worrying about them. The water trickled along the wall and continued down to those who slept beneath the earth in their eternal rest. Where her mother now slept.
She thought about Bayar. She had to focus solely on him to enter his body. She had to become one with him. She had to stop feeling her muscles, her vision, her sense of smell, and her hearing. She had to see through him before seeing through him. Then, desire and reality would merge, and it would truly happen.
She had first used the ring when she was very young. She didn’t know how it had come into her possession. When she could move herself with the wheelchair, she was often left alone to care for Selene. Their mother, Lira, was busy with the kingdom’s affairs and sometimes left so quickly that she forgot to call one of her ladies to be with them. Then it was her turn. But to her delight, Selene was well-behaved and had all sorts of wooden toys, even ones the seamstresses sewed and filled with goose down. Among the pile of toys was the eye. The ring wasn’t appealing to children, and Selene would never have thought to play with it. But it caught Jasmin’s attention. She picked it up and felt better. The pain in her back also became more bearable. She had once dreamed of feeling that pain in her legs but being able to walk. Naturally, nothing of the sort happened.
She didn’t understand the ring’s power until later. Before that, it was just a wooden toy. She loved colorful, bright things, and the ring was wooden and dirty. The ring seemed to come to her on its own.
She held it in her hand, examining it the same way she did now. She already had rings and other gold trinkets, but this ring seemed more interesting.
The ring stayed with her for many days before she remembered it again. She had forgotten it until one day she found herself in the same place where she had found it and saw Selene playing with it. She bent down and picked it up from the ground with the other wooden toys. She didn’t remember what made her do it, but she squeezed it tightly in her hand, and suddenly she was in another place. She couldn’t tell if it was a dream or reality. She couldn’t move; she couldn’t control anything about her body. Her body moved on its own.
Maybe because it wasn’t hers.
The eyes she looked through nervously darted left and right. Jasmin recognized the place. It was the common room where the servants slept. It was large, with many feather-stuffed blankets scattered on the ground to keep out the cold. Each had several blankets on top. Some were occupied by people; others were empty and neatly arranged.
The body she was in moved on its own. She did nothing and felt nothing. It passed through all the sleeping people on the floor and began touching them one by one. It found various stones, iron, and silver necklaces, and wires the blacksmiths bought. It stuffed all the items into its bosom, and whatever was left was hidden under its place. She was aware. Besides seeing, she had started to feel. But the body was foreign. It was like a dream, though she was sure she wasn’t dreaming.
It pressed the handle of the common room door, and when it stepped out, her mother—Queen Lira—stood before her.
Jasmin felt fear in the foreign body, and the intense emotion pulled her out, returning her to herself. She was back in her chair, with Selene and two of their ladies around her.
She closed her eyes again, shaking off the memory. Now she was back in the small, damp room in the library. Selene hadn’t visited her in a long time, and her life had unfolded just as it would for any crippled person in the kingdom. The difference was that she was warm and had food. And she had Bayar. Bayar was her connection to the outside world and was important to her, though she never admitted it to him.
Thunder struck outside. The light vibrations shook the stone wall. Jasmin took the iron rod in her hand and pushed off the ground with it, causing the wheels to move and carry her to the bed. She thought about Bayar. She lifted herself from the chair and onto the bed. She had trained for this movement for many years, yet the transfer was sometimes too abrupt, causing her to fall heavily. She held the ring in her palm. She turned on her back and stared at the wooden ceiling. Without looking at her hands, she slipped the ring onto her finger.
A wave of energy surged from the tips of her bare toes, spreading to the ends of her red hair. Sometimes, the impact was stronger, and this time it was. Her eyelids grew heavy and slowly closed.
She opened them with effort as if trying to wake up from a bad dream.
And she was no longer here.
She was at the kingdom’s gates. She could feel her legs. She loved the feeling of having legs. At first, it was strange, but she got used to it. She could see and hear, and a dark strand of hair fell in front of her face. The eyes of the body she was in looked down. Jasmin saw the brown pants Bayar wore and his black, battered shoes.
She didn’t know if he sensed that she was there. She assumed he did. He had once told her that his body tingled when she entered him. But sometimes, he said that without her being inside him. Now, it didn’t matter as much.
Bayar walked slowly, looking around at every corner. She knew him well. He tried to be brave but still feared. After all, he was a seventeen-year-old boy. And the men who remained in Meihar were not known for their bravery. The brave ones usually fled north or south. Those who stayed were the ones who could submit to a woman and accept that a woman would command them their entire life, whether it was their mother, wife, or someone from the kingdom. Bayar was like that, but sometimes Jasmin thought of him as simply too naive. And that naivety often helped him.
He passed by several riders who were watching the fields ahead. They were expecting someone. Bayar saw them and circled around them from a distance. None of them paid him any attention.
Most of the women Bayar passed looked at him strangely, which was normal, but many of them smiled slyly at him. The harlots loved men and sought them out.
She had forgotten how emotions affected the body she entered, and the surge of jealousy was so strong that Bayar felt it, causing him to stop in his tracks. If he hadn’t sensed her before, he certainly did now. The boy stood still for a moment and then continued walking.
In the distance, shouts and cheers could be heard. Bayar often glanced in that direction. The day for the contenders’ fights was approaching. That was likely what was being heard. And it seemed Severin had already been welcomed. There was no one she recognized. And the crowd seemed more focused on heading to the arenas than the trading quarter. That was good.
Jasmin was sure her sister was somewhere out there. And in this rain, she could only imagine how she stood by the puddles of mud, watching the fights in the arena. Sometimes, she was glad she hadn’t inherited her mother Lira’s throne but Selene. And sometimes, she was grateful for what had happened to her. Not always, but sometimes…
Bayar sensed her again. This time, she was sure of it. When she experienced an emotion, it transferred to the body she was in. That’s why she had to stop thinking about anything else. Otherwise, she would wake up, and everything would fall apart.
Bayar entered the trading quarter. Although it was market day, there weren’t many people today. Most were probably at the arena, and the foreigners had been delayed by the rain. Sooner or later, it would fill up here. No weather could stop silver and copper coins from passing through the hands of those hungry for a bit more wealth.
A cart passed by, splashing mud onto his body. Bayar’s anger surged so strongly that even she felt it. Another intense emotion. Intense emotions somehow worked better. Maybe if she learned to work with them, she could control a foreign body even when it was calmer.
Bayar looked up. The forge’s chimney was smoking. He knew why. If it was smoking, it meant the forge was working. And if it was working, it meant Pip was there.
Bayar pushed open the wooden door, which swung open smoothly. At first, he didn’t see anyone. He took a few more steps inside. The heat and warmth began to suffocate him so much that Jasmin felt it too.
To his left was a forge that hadn’t fully ignited, and a black-haired boy was pumping air into it. In the other corner was a large woman with short blonde hair, who had more exposed skin than covered.
Neither of them noticed him or paid him any attention.
Bayar looked at his hands. There was the small book Ratt had given him. He couldn’t make out the inscription, but it bore a strange iron mark resembling a hammer.
“Pip?” Bayar almost had to shout, drowned out by the boy’s hammering. The boy turned. He was Bayar’s age. Jasmin saw him for the first time. He was completely black. Even his once-white skin was almost entirely covered in soot. Under his eyes, on his hands, everywhere was black.
“Bayar!” The boy threw down his bellows and spread his arms toward Bayar. They knew each other. “Where have you been, Bayar? Still wandering around the kingdom? Have you seen the queen’s underwear?” Pip playfully nudged Bayar’s shoulder, who seemed to freeze. He knew Jasmin was watching and felt ashamed of her and Pip’s words. She didn’t like hearing boyish talk either. Such things weren’t often heard in the kingdom because there were simply no men here.
“Hey, Pip!” The woman’s voice from the corner was louder than the blows of her hammer. “Who’s that?”
“A customer,” Pip shouted back.
“What does he want?” The shouting continued.
Pip looked at Bayar, shrugged slightly, and curled his lips. While he watched him, a new shout echoed in the forge, this time from him:
“Something small. He’s a foreigner. Wants an ornament for a necklace. You know how traders are, always looking for gifts.”
“All right, all right,” the large woman hammered. “Make sure he pays first. Then make him whatever he wants.”
Jasmin recognized the woman. It was Winda, though she wasn’t sure if that was her real name, and she was the chief blacksmith of the kingdom. She was fat, blonde, and always had greasy hands. She rarely left the forge, and everyone feared her. At least that’s what she had heard. She hadn’t seen her since she was little, but looking now, it seemed she hadn’t changed at all.
Pip winked at Bayar, took his hand, and led him further away from their previous spot.
“What’s going on? You don’t want to…”
“No!” Bayar interrupted and shoved the book into his hands. “The librarian, Ratt.”
“Ratt, Rott… Ah, yes. What does that old man want?”
“He said you’d know. And he asked me to give it to you.”
Pip flipped through the book. At first, his expression showed he had no idea what it was. Then he remembered and flipped to the last page of the book.
“Well, did you understand?”
“Yes. Apparently, we’re expecting guests.”
Jasmin felt Bayar’s surprise at Pip’s last words. Pip noticed it in his eyes too.
“It’s an old tradition in Meihar. Whenever there’s an important visit, two daggers are made. One is given to the guest, and the other remains for the kingdom. It shows the gratitude of both kingdoms. Something like that, Bayar.”
“How many times have you made such things?”
“This is my first, but Winda has made many in the past.” Pip glanced somewhere behind Bayar, probably at the blonde lady. Jasmin knew her, though only faintly. “I’ve been waiting for such an order for a long time.”
“How long will it take you?”
“It’ll be quick, Bayar. If I start today, I’ll pour them by tomorrow evening. The ornaments will take more time, but they’ll be ready quickly if Winda helps me.”
“You have until this evening.”
Pip jumped.
“This evening?”
“Is there a problem, Pip?” Winda’s voice rang out.
“N-no.” He was nervous. “It’s impossible, Bayar.”
Bayar shrugged. Pip began to sweat. Maybe it was the heat.
Only now did Bayar turn around. The large blonde woman sat on a stool in the other corner, doing something with her fingers. Just one of her fingers was as big as at least three of Bayar’s. When she sat in the dark, with only her silhouette visible, she was terrifying. Jasmin felt his fear of her. She understood him. The lady didn’t seem like the calmest person.
“Well, then. I’ll tell Ratt you’ll be ready.”
“And the money?” Pip grabbed his shoulder.
“The money when you’re done.” He had made that up. He didn’t know what else to say.
“Well, fine. No reason for the queen to lie. I doubt she’ll find a better blacksmith.”
Pip turned his back on him, and Jasmin saw the boy place the book near the forge. He didn’t want to talk anymore. Instead, he was feverishly turning the iron in his hands.
The boy pushed the wooden door open again and stepped out in front of the forge.
It was still raining, though more lightly. From the arena, loud cheers could be heard again. Someone had won, and another had lost. A few more people ran between the stalls. They were heading for the arena and were passionately discussing something about a little girl losing an eye in a fight with wooden swords. Jasmin couldn’t hear Bayar’s thoughts, but sometimes she could sense his feelings. The last thing he heard had upset him slightly.
“Stop, boy!” A hand clad in heavy steel rested on Bayar’s chest. Bayar looked to his right. One of the guards had stopped him at the forge’s entrance without even looking at him. Two horses were pulling a cart, which was covered. The path between the stalls here narrowed, forcing the cart to stop. The guard’s hand fell away. Bayar stayed put and watched the royal cart adorned with various pendants in different colors. The smell around was of stagnant water. The place had such a reputation, and it worsened after the rain.
Two women disembarked from either side of the cart. Both held umbrellas. One was red, and the other blue. Thalia stepped out under the red one. She was wearing her white dress, the color she always wore. Her black hair cascaded down, untouched by the water.
Ivora, on the other side, looked more beautiful than her today. She matched her umbrella, and her blue dress was shorter than Thalia’s long one, and she didn’t care if the edges of her dress got dirty in the mud. For Thalia’s dress, it was too late; the mud had already stained parts of her clothing.
Jasmin saw them for the first time in a long time. They had grown up. They were women. In another kingdom, they would already have husbands and at least one child, but in Meihar, things weren’t like that. Sometimes, she felt sorry when she saw beautiful girls like them, trapped without men in Meihar. Selene probably knew this too. And as far as she knew her, she would soon find them husbands to father their children, and then she would expel them. That’s how things worked here.
She felt the excitement in Bayar’s heart. It was normal for him not to see them as just women. For men, especially at his age, they were also objects of a different kind of desire. It was interesting to feel even a fragment of what a man experiences when he sees a woman. She couldn’t describe it. It was interesting. She had felt something similar only once. One of the two sons of Lord Zoran, the lord of Blackvale, was visiting. One son was named Vladimir, the other Boris. Vladimir was the elder, who should now be her age if he were alive. The last time they had come here, they were young, but not so young as not to know what happened between a man and a woman. She fell in love with his masculine features and stern expression. But he didn’t even look at her. Because she was once again confined to her wheelchair, in which she still sat. He looked at her sister Selene, but even Jasmin knew he had no chance with her. To her sister, men were merely tools that shouldn’t be paid attention to the rest of the time. Their mother had trained her from a young age.
Bayar was nervous. She felt the trembling in his heart. He stood aside from the crowd waiting for the royal ladies to move on, surrounded by guards who all seemed like the same person. All were women, tall and red-haired.
Neither Ivora nor Thalia saw Bayar. And now was his moment. The excitement of seeing them made Jasmin start to feel her body again. But it was too early to wake up. For a moment, she fell into a state where she realized she was dreaming and prayed the dream wouldn’t end. In this case, she didn’t pray; she tried to focus only on Bayar and make her sense of smell recall his. That’s how the connection became even stronger.
The rain stopped entirely, and the sun began to peek out. Bayar didn’t move. The two ladies linked arms and walked together. The women with the umbrellas, who had helped them, walked a little behind.
Jasmin tried to remember either Thalia or Ivora, but she couldn’t. She needed eye contact, something personal from them, or their scent. Bayar had to do something to speak to them, to be seen by them, or, best of all, to be embraced by them. And he had to act today. In two days, the people from Volkar would arrive, and it would be too late.
Bayar followed the ladies’ group. The two in front of him were chatting animatedly, pointing to the stalls around them. Jasmin knew that he knew Thalia, and if she saw him, things could become easier. But neither she nor Ivora turned, and every step Bayar took closer was met with a loud curse from the guards or a slight threat enough to deter him.
Even Bayar seemed to realize that it would be difficult this way and changed his course, leaving them behind. His task was to take something from the girls or get close enough for Jasmin to sense them. That’s how the ring worked. So far, nothing of the sort was happening.
Bayar passed the stalls on the right, turned behind them, and climbed the first walls, which were low and easy to access. He walked along them, slightly bent, trying not to attract attention. Jasmin’s heart began to beat faster. Just watching through his eyes made her excited as he leaped from stone to stone. Bayar was now parallel to the two ladies. He ran quickly, trying not to overtake them.
And that’s when the pain he felt transferred to Jasmin. Jasmin had never felt her legs, and this was the first time she felt something in them. It wasn’t her pain, but it felt as if she had experienced it. She liked it, but it also woke her up.
She opened her eyes. She was in her room. She closed them again. She wanted to return to Bayar’s body.
And she succeeded. She succeeded only to see herself lying on her back, with the sky above, which had already cleared from the dark clouds a moment ago.
Someone shouted from the arena, and a shadow fell over his eyes. Two guards stood over him. One had a spear aimed at him, and the other was laughing. The one with the spear stopped it just before his throat and said something.
“Bayar?”
Behind them, a soft female voice was heard. Both guards turned, and before Bayar stood the gentle, black-haired girl—Thalia. The girl extended her hand toward him.
“No, milady.” One of the female guards stopped her, extending her hand to lift Bayar. She was a strong woman.
Once again, excitement surged through Jasmin.
She woke up again and couldn’t fall back asleep. Her breathing was heavy and rapid. She clenched her fists and sat up in bed. She looked at her wheelchair. There was nothing she could do. All that was left was to wait. That’s what she had done for most of her life.