4
Baradir whirled, and found Yasmine seated cross-legged atop a tiny stool, just inside the Bazaar’s entrance. She did not rise to intercept him, nor did she accost him with further words. But she watched him closely as he manoeuvred his camels inside the opening in the rock, and he did not like the look in her night-black eyes.
‘What is it that you now want?’ said Baradir, when she neither spoke nor went away.
‘My wishes have not changed.’
‘Nor has my answer.’
She held an ornate glass in her hand, an airy confection of moon-white shot through with azure. Whatever was in it gave off a tantalising aroma as she raised it to her lips and took a long swallow, quite large enough a draught to empty the vessel. But the scent of that beverage — roses and honey and pomegranate at least, and ci
