Instead of leaving through the door, though, they climbed on top of her bed and squeezed out the narrow window. The fortress at Amasya was old, squatting low and heavy on the ground. A wall ran the length of it, oftentimes nearly swallowed by trees and rocks. Some nicer flourishes had been added: a few balconies, a mismatched tower, and the wing where Lada and Radu lived. The fortress had also recently been repainted white with stripes of blue, and the tower painted in swirling lines.
Lada avoided most of it, preferring to spend her time with the Janissaries or in the trees on the mountain. Mehmed rarely left. When the three of them did sneak away, it was during the day to the hidden pool, but it was too cold for swimming during the day now, much less in the middle of the night.
They moved along the tree line, skirting the edge of the woods, running a course parallel to the river below. When they were a good distance from the fortress, the path began to climb. The terrain was rocky and covered with low, scrubby bushes, and navigating in the dark was difficult work.
“Where are you idiots taking me?”
“Patience, Lada,” Mehmed said.
“I am going to start sleeping with a knife.”
“If you had had a knife, you would have killed me!”
“Yes, exactly. And then I could have gone back to sleep.”
Radu snorted. “Nothing like cuddling a corpse to give you sweet dreams.”
Mehmed pointed ahead of them, to shapes looming in the dark. Lada thought they were more massive boulders in the mountainside, but as she edged around them, she saw they were carefully shaped and carved into the mountain. Ferhat’s tunnel to Shirin! Elation overtook her, the taste of cold, clear water and the sound of beating hearts rushing over her.
Then she realized what was really before her.
Tombs.
“Whose are they?” she asked, to cover her strange and embarrassing disappointment. She ran her hand along the outside of one. There was something carved, so faint she could barely feel it.
“Pontus kings who ruled here more than a thousand years ago.”
“What were their names?”
“No one remembers.”
She placed a hand flat on the cool limestone of one of the tomb covers. No one remembered the kings’ names, but they were still here, overlooking their land.
Mehmed spread his cloak out and lay on his back, gesturing for Lada and Radu to join him. Radu immediately lay to Mehmed’s right. Lada stayed where she was. “Come on,” Mehmed said, “I did not bring you here to show you the tombs. We can look at them sometime when it is light.”
Sighing loudly enough for him to hear, Lada dragged her feet and lay down on Mehmed’s left side, annoyed with him for asking and herself for obeying.
And then everything else was swallowed by the enormity of the sky above her. The dark curve of the atmosphere was littered with light, stars spilling across her vision, overwhelming and beautiful. Vertigo briefly claimed Lada as she stared upward, and she felt as though she were falling into the sky, toward the stars. Then she saw a brilliant flash of light, trailed with fire. Radu gasped. Another star fell, burning brilliantly in the dark before disappearing.
Mehmed whispered, as though afraid to break the spell, “Molla Gurani said this would happen tonight.”
“How did he know?” Radu asked.
“It happens on a cycle of years. He has books that note its occurrence. Tonight he is up in the tower recording our falling stars for the future to study.”
“Why do you like him so much?” Lada asked, the wonder of the night above her stealing the sting from her question.
Mehmed was quiet for a long time before answering. “That day you found me in the garden? Molla Gurani is the tutor who struck me.”
“You should have had him killed,” Lada said.
Mehmed laughed softly. “It sounds odd, but I am glad he hit me. Before him, no one, no tutor, no nurse ever stood up to me. They let me rage and rant, allowed me to be a terror. The more I pushed, the more they looked the other way. My father never saw me, my mother could not be bothered to take so much as a meal with me. No one cared who I was or what I became.”
Lada tried to shift away from the thing poking into her heart and making her so uncomfortable, but there were no rocks beneath her.
“And then Molla Gurani came. That first day, when he hit me, I could not believe it. I wanted to kill him. But what he said the next day changed me forever. He told me I was born for greatness, placed in this world by the hand of God, and he would never let me forget or abandon that trust.” Mehmed shrugged, his shoulder pressing against Lada’s. “Molla Gurani cared who I was and who I would become. I have tried ever since to live up to that.”