No, Aunt Khora, he just has the ability to siphon off people’s thoughts and memories, Marish thought as he said good night to her and wandered back out into the garden.
Marish sat down on the bench beside the fountain, its dancing water reduced to a trickle for the night. If anyone had asked, he would have said that he was checking the night watchman’s routine.
But mostly, he wanted to stop and think about what to do next. Sekheret insisting on taking them to see a story like Hatana, which so closely resembled what the politician was doing to Itana—it felt like a taunt, or perhaps a trap to see how he and Itana would react.
He’d told Aunt Khora he would get back into Sekheret’s good graces, for Itana’s sake, but truthfully, he had no idea how he was going to do that. He had no cards to
