Chapter 1: Beginning the Journey

It was quiet in the garden. Only the wind dared to stir the warm air in the Tisroc's lush oasis of flora and fauna. All I could hear, however, was my heart thumping in my chest. Even Lasaraleen had stopped her prattling for a moment. We had both very nearly escaped with our lives. And it was almost funny, in that sickening sort of way, that I had never expected this when I set out for Narnia and my so-called adventure. I had expected the g-ds themselves to kowtow to my status. After all, I was of a noble bloodline descended directly from Tash, how could I suffer? How, indeed, when there were scores of slaves to bear the brunt of the whip. But I had forgotten that I was not a Tarkheena anymore. And the g-ds, as they always do in tales of old, had shown me that I was no more than a playing piece in a game that was far greater than I could ever imagine. I reached the gate, and looked back at Lasaraleen. She stood apart from me; this was the part where she couldn't continue. Her eyes looked at me pityingly. To her, this was all a fool's errand. She could not understand why I was running from this life.

"And you could have been the wife of a Grand Vizier" she said, shaking her head, silly tears moistening her eyes.

She couldn't see Ahosta's meaningless flattery, couldn't see the greedy gleam in his eyes when the Tisroc spoke to him of his murderous plans. I looked at the golden spires of the Tisroc's palace. It was like a house of cards, waiting to crumble with the slightest brush, an empire built on treachery and lies. But it was home. It was what my brother had fought for until his dying breath. Here, before me lay all I had ever known. My allegiance had been bound to the man who let his son call for war with an innocent country, not caring if his son lived or died on his quest. Oh yes, I knew this land, knew it all too well. My eyes traced over the palace's lavish decorations and swept over the lush garden.

It might have been a paradise.

If I stopped now, I could still go back. I could still be the wife of a Grand Vizier, could still follow the familiar path. The safe one. I allowed myself these delusions for a moment. For I knew that even if I did bathe in asses' milk and had those ropes of pearls, they would mean nothing to me in comparison with the only thing I had ever wanted, my freedom. But Narnia was so far away. I was not sure if I could get there, and was even less sure of what I would do if I did get there. At my feet lay everything I could have been, everything that I could be if I stayed. At my back lay the uncertainty of a half-formed escape plan. It would've once been easy for me to decide between the two.

You could've been the wife of a Grand Vizier.

Lasaraleen's words repeated in my mind. It was less of a promise of happiness than Narnia, some country I had scarcely heard of. And though I was no longer almost royalty, I stood up as straight as any princess.

""Good-bye. And I thought your dresses lovely. And I think your house is lovely. I'm sure you'll have a lovely life—though it wouldn't suit me."

My eyes alighted on the glistening spires of the Tisroc's palace, and then on the full moon in all its glory. And just like that the doubt drained away. I turned away from the Tisroc's palace. I stood with the world stretched out before me and the confines of a life that had been chosen for me at my back.

I could be anything I wanted.

This thought, and this thought only, led me to the Tombs of the Ancient Kings, where I tried very hard not to think of the ghouls that I might happen on.