The door groans from afar. Tiny tiptoes draw in a dim thud over the timber. The sweet smell of something powdery, like apple blossom with a trace of lemon, skims around the edges of my mat. A dull ache throbs in my temples as a whisper of silk settles beside me.
“Sister.” Someone’s calling, but I dread opening my eyes, for the room will spin as it did at the first light of dawn, when bitter bile awoke me and lashed against the back of my throat. I just about made it to the back of the courtyard in time.
“I told you so,” Dendup said, and Karma held me when my legs wouldn’t anymore. “It’s the food, too spicy—and this damn weather.” Both had rushed after me, and for once I was grateful for the thick fog surrounding us as my stomach rose and emptied itself—several times.
“Sister.” A small
