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Chapter 38

Roksana

Siras sat as stiff as the palm tree I’d used to restore his hands. Maybe in response to the silent tears falling as I recalled the first time I’d done this, or maybe because of the mix of fear and wonder I saw on his unguarded features.

Tova’s hand was my template, my first foray into vivamancy and the best use of my power. Thinking about it, however, broke my heart.

We travelled another three days, slept in the middle of the desert, and by midday on the fourth day, a chain of granite hills welcomed us. Between them, a river rolled towards the sea. Tangra’s capital sprawled over the slope of one hill, where its pristine white houses reflected the light and their terraced gardens fought back the encroaching desert.

‘This is Farib. We’ll head to the Hierophant’s palace first, then I’ll take you to the Grand Library,’ Siras said as we passed the ornate gates.

‘Before we go, promise me one thing,’ I said, slowing my mount.

‘Yes? Don’t worry. You are safe…’

I cut him off. ‘Build me a home on the other side of the river, with a landing place high and large enough for a dragon,’ I said, and he frowned.

‘You want to stay?’

‘No, but I may return one day, and I’ll need somewhere to live.’ I gave him a forced smile, recalling my bargain with the gods. ‘You said there is an old water source here. Where exactly?’ I asked.

‘Under the palace. Deep in the basement is a pool of water. Legends say it is the last place where you can still find magic in Tangra.’ That was worth remembering for later.

For now, I rode through the streets and admired the exquisite architecture.

The white houses were beautiful in their simplicity. They stood tall with small, private courtyards. The windows were an open lattice with no blinds or other shading. In each window, a curious face watched us as we passed. No one, however, came to welcome the returning soldiers.

There was no celebration as we travelled through the city. Its citizens cast passing glances and moved away, returning to their jobs.

‘They don’t look happy,’ I remarked as we neared the palace.

‘Because they aren’t. When I was a child, horses still grazed outside the city walls. Now there’s nothing but sand. People know when the end is near,’ Siras said as we moved through the streets.

News had evidently travelled fast because a small group of men waited for us at the Hierophant’s palace.

‘Where is his eminence?’ the oldest asked.

‘Dead,’ Siras answered as he dismounted. A murmur of disbelief spread through the group.

‘How? He promised us… Gods, this is the end…’ The distressed voices merged into an indistinct clamour before the elder raised his voice.

‘Silence! Inform the synod there will be a quorum. Take the woman to her room.’

‘No.’ Siras stepped in front of me when the guards moved forward. ‘There will be no choosing, no new Hierophant. Those days are over. You will not lay a hand on the gods’ chosen. From this day forth, you answer to me.’

‘Blasphemy!’ the elder shouted, recoiling from Siras. ‘Guards! Seize him.’

I was too tired for this spectacle.

Cin, burn something for me, please.

Fire engulfed the Hierophant’s statue. The gold melted, flooding the fountain below and turning the water to steam. I unfolded my wings and flew into the fire.

Our welcoming committee and the onlookers shrieked and bolted across the square, seeking cover from the dragon’s flames. I waited until the fire died down, then used my magic to feed the plants around the square and force them to bloom.

‘I am the Songstress. The answer to your prayers and the judgment for your crimes. You have a choice to make. Listen to Siras and choose life, or burn,’ I intoned, surveying the faces of those who, moments ago, wanted to seize me.

Siras paled and dropped to his knees. Deep down, I wasn’t sure whether he was playing his part in the narrative we’d agreed on or something else. His expression was too genuine, too raw… as if he actually believed.