But they were not the only ones who made my heart sing. My mother sat with the dowager and Idris’s aunt Naima, laughing as I had never seen her laugh before in my life. She had wept, if only briefly, when she’d seen them again, and I thought of the impossibility of what she’d endured. Civil war, exile, the total destruction of her immediate family and complete separation from the only people who had known her in her first life. Fate, destiny—something had brought her back here, with them. The new world would heal very new and very old wounds.

“Amani,” Idris murmured, and I turned my attention to him. He swept a thumb over my cheek.

“To eternity,” I said, pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

“To eternity,” he echoed.

The carousing continued, but eventually I came to my feet. I waved Idris back into his seat.

“I just want a little air. I’ll be back soon.”

There was a balcony just to the left of the dais, and it was there I went. The city continued to celebrate. A hundred thousand orbs of light swept through its streets, and music rose up into the air. The snow had at last begun to fall, fat snowflakes drifting down from the sky. The promise of something new and fragile.

The balcony door opened behind me and a wall of sound poured out into the air.

“Sorry,” Aghraas said. “I—”

“No,” I said, turning to look at her. “There’s enough space for both of us.”

She hesitated on the threshold, then at last came to join me at the balustrade.

“The noise is a little overwhelming,” she admitted.

I smiled. “I agree.”

She looked out over the city. “Maram would be horrified to hear me admit it, but I’m more comfortable sleeping under the stars. Closed spaces wear on me after a while.”

In the half light Aghraas’s face took on an otherworldly aspect. There was a glow to her, an iridescence that seemed inhuman. I did as I had done the first time I met her and reached for her cheek to trace her daan.

And from His first creatures He made stars, glowing hot with their fire and warmth.

All may see the stars, but few will see their forebears. And to those whose eyes see golden fire We say heed Us and listen.

“For we have sent unto you a Sign. See it and take heed,” I said in Kushaila.

Her face stilled.

“Who were you sent for?”

Her throat moved, as if she were nervous. “You.”

“And why did you stay?”

“For her.”

I drew in a shuddering breath. “You said to me once that you understood why they chose me,” I said softly, searching her face. “I understand why you chose her.”

Her eyes widened. “You do?”

“I know her better than most,” I replied. “I have had to. And I am glad to.”