THAT NIGHT, ALONE IN a practice room, Talullah pulled a few scented sticks from the drawer in the desk and placed them in the incense pot hanging next to the mirror. Cedarwood hadn’t helped her during class, but since she wanted to See that room, maybe it would help her mind connect.
She turned down the light and shook out her limbs. She ran her hand along the mirror’s frame like she’d watched Suha do.
Talullah focused on the texture of the carved wave pattern beneath her fingertips. This she was used to. This was familiar. Trusting her hands, like with needle and thread or the strands on her loom when she’d practiced weaving a lifetime ago.
When the tension had melted from her body, she closed her eyes and inhaled the smell of cedarwood. In her mind, it drifted in wispy tendrils from t
