Daughters of Steel by Naomi Cyprus

Author:Naomi Cyprus
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Halan

The Hokmet Tower was built during the reconstruction after the Great Quake. Originally meant to replace the royal palace, which had been almost completely destroyed, it was finished after the last king died and the first minister, Master Kalhor, took power. Its design is ambitious and modern, debatably an intentional move to intimidate its citizens. Tours are available by appointment.

From A Guide to New Hadar, Jewel of the Hadar Sea

“Are you ready for this?” Marcus asked. He pulled the Veil of Shadows gingerly out of his bag, the midnight-blue silk wavering in the air.

Halan swallowed. She looked down at the Thauma artifacts laid out on the floor of the little room above the men’s clothing store.

The morning sunlight was streaming in through a dirty window, diffuse and strange. The daytime in New Hadar was just as cloud streaked and cool and damp as the night had been. Marcus and Halan had gotten up before the sun and snuck out of his family’s apartment, the Thauma satchel heavy at Halan’s side with the various things they had stuffed into its deceptively roomy interior. Marcus had led her to a side street that lay in the immense shadow of the Hokmet Tower. He’d namedropped the Trust to the shopkeeper, and the man had paled and ushered them upstairs.

Now it was almost time. Halan wriggled her shoulders and pulled at the strange shapes of the formal dress Marcus had “borrowed” from Marit—it was stiff and square shouldered, and a single plain creamy beige color with no trim or buttons or anything, and it didn’t fit properly in a couple of places. Halan looked at herself in the dusty mirror that’d been propped in the corner of the room and thought it made her look old. Which was perfect.

She sighed. “Let me do the shoes first,” she told Marcus, and sat down on a creaky chair to pull on a pair of unassuming flat shoes. They didn’t look like anything special, but the enchantments laced into them were powerful Thauma magic indeed. She remembered the advice Marcus had given her earlier and did not look down at her feet as she stood up again. She knew if she did, they would appear to be touching the floor even though she felt as if she was standing on wedges about six inches high.

It felt very odd to have suddenly grown as tall as her mother. At least now the bottom of Marit’s dress didn’t drag along the floor when she walked.

“All right,” Halan said, turning to Marcus. “Let’s do this.”

“Okay, here we go,” Marcus said. He had to reach up to tie the Veil of Shadows around her head. Halan suppressed a deep shudder.

The last time I wore one of these, I was a hostage, she thought. Soren had made her a prisoner in her own body, with the face of a girl who’d been scarred by Dust. Even Tam hadn’t recognized her. He’d almost killed her.

And yet, as painful as it had been, she was grateful too.

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