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Summary
Cyno’s eyes narrowed. “How much do you know?”
“More than you, it seems,” said Alhaitham. A beneficent smile flicked over his lips, measured like a tock of a senapati piece placed on the mango-wood chessboard.
He’d be a little more charming with a little less power, Cyno thought idly, and watched Alhaitham pop a date into his mouth.
General Mahamatra investigates a lead cutting too close to home - chaperoned by one bibliophilic maven and his two unlikely accomplices, each seemingly tending to their own personal intrigues. But in the desert's sand, every step forward may sink them a foot deeper.
Or, Alhaitham's intimate study on the hollowness of a water lily's stem, and the fullness of his own heart.