Darkness had fallen by the time they brought Sirani’s body into the citadel. Irenya stayed curled up on the physicians’ sofa. She couldn’t face her old bed where Yashi died, or her rooms, gaudy with the paintings and cushions of Sirani’s choice. The mirror seemed an impossible distance away.
‘Gift!’ she howled. ‘This is no Gift. It’s a curse.’
She blamed herself for not noticing Sirani’s real state of mind, for jollying the girl out of her grief. She hadn’t ever thanked Sirani for being the first person in Dar Orien to befriend her. And Sirani would not sit under the old peach tree next summer, making daisy chains.
Irenya declined Aeryl’s invitation to help in the preparation of the girl’s body, said she couldn’t face pulling black weeds out of Sirani’s mouth and hair. After Aeryl had g
