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Chapters (102)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. DRAMATIS PERSONAE
  6. BOOKI
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. BOOKII
  30. 1
  31. 2
  32. 3
  33. 4
  34. 5
  35. 6
  36. 7
  37. 8
  38. 9
  39. 10
  40. 11
  41. 12
  42. 13
  43. 14
  44. 15
  45. 16
  46. 17
  47. 18
  48. 19
  49. BOOKIII
  50. 1
  51. 2
  52. 3
  53. 4
  54. 5
  55. 6
  56. 7
  57. 8
  58. 9
  59. 10
  60. 11
  61. 12
  62. 13
  63. 14
  64. 15
  65. 16
  66. 17
  67. BOOKIV
  68. 1
  69. 2
  70. 3
  71. 4
  72. 5
  73. 6
  74. 7
  75. 8
  76. 9
  77. 10
  78. 11
  79. BOOKV
  80. 1
  81. 2
  82. 3
  83. 4
  84. 5
  85. 6
  86. 7
  87. 8
  88. 9
  89. 10
  90. 11
  91. 12
  92. 13
  93. 14
  94. 15
  95. 16
  96. 17
  97. 18
  98. Glossary
  99. Acknowledgments
  100. Also by Andrea Hairston
  101. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  102. Newsletter Sign-up

“A crow with white feathers.” He pointed at the bird watching from an altar. “Everything is wrong today, upside down and inside out. Even the bees.” He scanned the rafters and grabbed a hot poker. “I hate omens.”

“Stung to death might be better than a slow bleed.” Awa bit her tongue too late.

“Your blood is precious. A shame to waste it.” Hezram pressed hot metal against her leg wound. She lost sense for a moment. He threw cold rags in her face. “If you must take your leave”—he pointed to a belt of snakeheads hidden in his robes—“venom is faster.”

“Poison snakes are rare in Holy City.” A viper’s head with full poison sacs hung from a slim cord inside Awa’s shift and bumped her ribs as she bound the leg wound. “Dying slowly for god is redemption. Kurakao! I lose faith, sometimes.”

“You hang on,” Hezram said. “This is grace.”

“Yes.” Awa scrambled up. “Grace.”

“You think I’m cruel, evil?” Hezram pulled Awa close. His breath was honey sweet, his sweat oily and red. “I won’t be a drum that someone else beats, a road they walk to riches and fame. I won’t be bled and boiled.” He grinned at her, eyes wide, fervent. “The world is evil. A wise man does what he has to. I’m strong enough to prevail.”

“Yes, but—” Awa ground her teeth. The cauldron chambers were on the other side of the Nightmare Gates, so priests and acolytes could do what they wanted. And so could transgressors. Stabbing Hezram with the viper’s fangs would be easy. Afterward, she could follow the Dream Gates to the outside. Who would know she’d killed him? Not Jod, he never noticed her. Awa groaned. She wasn’t a killer. Imagining murder was easier than actually doing it.

“What?” Hezram demanded.

“Everything we believe could be false.”

Hezram laughed. “One thing is sure. The gods are indifferent to our suffering.”

“Perhaps we must be better than the gods.”

“Perhaps you’re a coward afraid to give up ghosts and face death.”

Awa met his gaze unafraid. “I seek redemption however it comes.”

His expression hardened. “Then you shall find it. Get out of here.”

19

Basawili

More breath to come. Not for Djola’s family. They were all dead. Or just Nuar? Nobody has seen the bodies. Not knowing was torture. They’d died a thousand thousand times in his mind, because of him. Djola had mourned them over and over. He was finished with torture, with hope and struggle.