“You’d love it,” he said quickly. “I think it’s statistically impossible for anyone not to.”
“Oh. Well…” Diana blinked at the unexpected invitation.
“There are rubies and other gems there,” he said, nodding to the emerald-decorated sword tucked into her belt. “You have some lovely waterfalls here—more than I’ve ever seen in one spot before—but we have interesting natural formations and sights back at Sáz. And the chariot can fly exceptionally high with my newest potion. Would be fun to fly above the clouds, wouldn’t it? I could have you back by morning.”
Earlier this evening she’d told Sakina how stuck she felt. Now here was a boy offering her a trip to a brand-new land and urging her to join him.
It was tempting.
“I’d love to,” she finally said. “But this is a busy week. I can’t worry my mother by disappearing on her.”
“Oh,” Augustus said. His expression fell. “Well…”
“But you should go. If I see any of the Scholars heading over to the ship, I’ll distract them. They won’t notice you’re gone.”
“Thank you. Maybe tomorrow evening, then,” he said. “My injuries should be fully healed by then.”
Diana told Augustus she’d check on him the next morning. She promised to drop by with breakfast and freshly squeezed orange juice.
“Thank you,” said Augustus.
“It’s not a problem,” she said. “Really.”
“Well, thank you all the same. For your kindness. Been a while since I was shown any.”
Diana studied the boy’s face, his pained expression. Stepping off the dock, she headed toward the forest. Her cheeks burned with frustration. If Queen Khadijah took a boy so young as her servant and treated him badly, why didn’t Sakina stop her?
She needed answers.
Suddenly Diana stopped walking.
The Lasso of Truth. It was the one object that drew out the truth, no matter what.
Quickly, Diana turned from the palace. She hurried through the coliseum instead, racing past the empty seats and the rose gardens.
She headed straight toward the armory.
It was time to ask some hard questions. With the Lasso of Truth, she’d get to the bottom of things once and for all. Queen Hippolyta definitely would not approve of Diana removing the lasso from the armory without permission, but if she used it on Sakina or her mother, it would reveal all without leaving any room for doubt. Diana needed to know if Augustus was telling her the truth.
His life could depend on it.
The white walls of the armory loomed in the distance. Diana hurried toward its nasturtium-lined entrance and turned the door handle. All along the armory’s inside perimeter hung the rarest of weapons and swords. Warm torchlight shone down upon them; placards beneath each one signified their importance. Diana could lose herself within the armory most days; there was so much to see and try out. But tonight was different. She was here for exactly one thing.
And there it was.
The Lasso of Truth glimmered beneath the torchlights across from her. Walking up to it, she hesitated. It’s not that she’d never handled the lasso. She’d run her hands over the intricate knotting in the past when no one was looking. But those times didn’t count. Not really. She’d never used the lasso on someone to find out a necessary truth. And she never could have imagined she’d ever need to use this lasso on her best friend.
Diana lifted the lasso from its perch. It looked like any ordinary rope, but as soon as her hands touched it, the thick lasso began to glow. She glanced down at it and hesitated. She was allowed to wander the armory and explore as she liked, but her mother would not be happy if she found out Diana had removed the lasso from the armory without asking first—and to use it on one of their closest allies! But the Lasso of Truth was a source of answers, and answers were what she desperately needed. She tied the lasso to her waist belt and vowed to be as careful as possible with the rare heirloom before she walked out of the armory and back into the night.
As she entered the palace, Diana paused in the gleaming marble foyer. The strangest thing echoed through the normally bustling palace: silence. A short while ago, every inch of this place had been brimming with music and laughter and conversation. It was too soon for everyone to have retired to their rooms for bed, but maybe she’d caught a lucky break. If Sakina was asleep, it would be the most painless way to get the truth out of her. But when Diana went to her bedroom, both beds were still perfectly made. Sakina wasn’t there.
Diana poked her head out of the room and scanned the corridor. The doors to the guest suites were opened wide. She passed each of them and saw that they were empty. Every last one.
Where is everyone?
Diana hurried downstairs toward the guest hall. Maybe they were still there. Sure, she’d never heard it this quiet during a Chará festival, but perhaps they were playing some kind of game. Or meditating. It was a little late for such things, but odder things had happened at festivals past.
She gripped the handle to the guest hall door and glanced at the lasso at her waist. It was too big to tuck under her clothes and too important to let out of her sight, but if she ran into her mother with it attached to her waist, she would be in big trouble. Best to avoid her mother as best she could, Diana resolved.
The first thing Diana noticed once she stepped inside the guest hall was the scent filling the room: bittersweet, like the rind of an orange. She clasped a hand to her nose; her eyes watered. Glancing around the room, her arms fell to her sides.
She was dreaming.
She had to be.
All the women were here.
Every last one.
Their eyes were closed. And none of them were moving.
Diana wheeled around and stared at the women surrounding her. Her stomach twisted in knots. They were here, just as she’d left them. Except now, besides the light movements of their breath, none of them moved a muscle. A woman in a chiffon dress sat across from her, perched in a high-backed chair, her eyes gently shut as though in deep meditation. Another sat by the window, her cheek pressed against the smooth glass, her eyes closed. How had everyone fallen asleep so suddenly?
“Hello?” Diana called out, her own breathing growing more rapid. “Can you hear me? Can anyone hear me?”
No one responded. The candlelit chandeliers shone brightly overhead as dread filled Diana’s heart.
Queen Khadijah sat on a velvet sofa, her hands clasped primly in her lap. Her eyes were shut. All around her, motionless women sat in chairs and reclined on chaise longues. Some were even asleep on the cool marble floor.