Free The Straits of Galahesh: Book Two of The Lays of Anuskaya by Bradley P. Beaulieu

becoming lost, no matter how many years of experience she has in the drowning basin.
    As the bulk of Galostina looms before her, she cannot help but think of Lord Bahett and his mission and the pending marriage that lies between them like a gauntlet. There are parallels with her journey to Khalakovo five years ago, but that was a marriage within the Grand Duchy—she knew from an early age to expect such things. Her pending marriage to Bahett is a thing of her own making, and yet she feels foolish, as if she is making a grave mistake, despite the benefits the marriage would bring.
    She wanders to the wing the men from Yrstanla have been given. Mother declared them off-limits—they have ways of telling if they’re being spied upon, she said—but she doesn’t care. Whether it was her decision or not, she would see what sort of man he is.
    As she draws closer to his room—the walls only subtly visible in the darkness of the aether—she finds him awake. He sits at a desk, a quill in his hand, but he isn’t writing, at least not at the moment. He merely taps the quill against the paper, over and over again, in a distinct rhythm, as if a concerto is playing absently in his mind.
    She comes closer and reads not the flowing script of Yrstanla, but of Anuskaya. As the words register, she becomes cold—more chill than the drowning basin could ever make her.
    How many nights must I wait? the words on the paper said. Come, Atiana . We must speak .
    Before the words can sink in, Atiana senses another Matra nearby. She recognizes the presence immediately as Saphia. Atiana isn’t sure how long Saphia has been here, but there can be no doubt she’s read the note as well.
    Atiana reaches out, strengthens their bond. Saphia could stop it at any time, but she allows it. As much as Atiana has grown over these years, Saphia has grown stronger. She was the strongest of the Matri already, but her time in the lake deep in the village of Iramanshah has somehow tempered her even further. At times, her powers seem to dwarf Atiana’s. And yet, as strong as her mind is, her body has grown frail. Just as Atiana can faintly feel her own body in the drowning chamber of Galostina, she can feel Saphia’s in the lake of Iramanshah. She is thin, weak, barely able to remain awake when she allows herself to leave the cold depths of the water.
    A beautiful man, is Bahett, Saphia says.
    You should not have come , Atiana replies. The others may sense you.
    So you always say, but they have not once sensed me, not when I’ve meant them to look past. They are ham-fisted children, Atiana, and it’s best you come to realize that. Now come. There is something else you must see.
    Atiana feels a pull on her soul. She is drawn away from Galostina, away from Kiravashya, away from Vostroma. She is pulled northward toward Galahesh. She had seen the city from the aether only once before, years ago, and only at the behest of her mother. She did not stay long because it was difficult then, but now, she is at relative ease.
    There is danger, however. The aether swirls here, and the closer she comes to the straits that run through the center of the island, the more difficult it becomes, until at last she can go no further.
    Yet still Saphia pulls, draws her closer. The hidden currents draw her thin, like smoke upon a growing breeze. She feels more and more of the Sea of Tabriz to the east, and the Sea of Khurkhan to the west. They are vast and deep and full of life. She knows that she’s being drawn too far, but there’s little she can do to prevent it. The aether and the storm that centers upon Galahesh have taken her.
    Saphia!
    She hears nothing. She feels instead the currents of the waters, the leagues that lie below. Feels the crust of the earth where it meets the impossibly dark depths. Feels the confluence as it struggles against Galahesh and the walls that stand high above the straits.
    Saphia!
    Slowly she feels herself drawn away from the edge. She is pulled