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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

I am Eidhou, Eidhou!

When you find yourself, come right to me

When you find yourself, you have to see

Sour fruit turns to sweet in my meadows

Truth on the run hides in my shadows

Waiting for the time to rhyme

Waiting for the time to shine

Come right to me! You have to see!

I am Eidhou!

3

Yesterday’s Blood

Arkhys City’s Rainbow Square was more dazzling than Djola remembered. The riverstone ground was inlaid with agate, quartz, moonstone, and crystals he could not name. Sandstone buildings around the Square shimmered in hot dry air. Mercenaries marched around money houses, granaries, and tree-oil works, on the lookout for rebels but ignoring carnival clowns. These warriors-for-hire hoped to get rich plundering petty merchants and desperate farmers. Across Thunder River, sunlight snuck through the columns, domes, and towers of Azizi’s citadel. After the chaotic, earthy market, the rigid splendor of rulers needled Djola. Actually, it was being stuck in the everyday that annoyed him. His wanted to fly to Council at the speed of thought.

“Wim-wom.” Awa was dazzled by the Lahesh waterwheel that still presided over the river entrance to Rainbow Square. Creatures made of wood, metal, leather, and glass chased each other up, down, and around the wheel. Grinning behemoths, striped horses, and tentacled blobs slid along ramps, spun on tops, and leapt from catapults. Rainbow spirits from crystals in the center of the wheel cavorted around the square to the delight of men and women. Nobody had persuaded Azizi to ban women or replace the Lahesh whimsy wheel with a better power display. Djola offered a prayer to the crossroads gods—ancient Anawanama words learned from his mother. She never translated the verses, but said: Each life fills this prayer with meaning.

Mango halted under a lone cathedral tree. Its burl-mottled trunk rose a hundred feet before hefty branches broke the vertical line. A host of animal-people chirped, squealed, and buzzed from nests, holes, and hiding places in the tree. Among the feathery green leaves was the red bronze of new growth. Rainbow spirits had protected this elder from axmen and oil merchants. Even void dust avoided this giant. For how much longer? A spring fed deep roots and burbled into a fountain altar dedicated to the crossroads gods. Mango guzzled a trough of water then raised her trunk, curious, cautious. Kyrie waved to Anawanama and Zamanzi players at the top of the oasis garden.

Djola snorted bloody sand from his nostrils. “Can we trust them?”

“They’re sworn rebels.” Kyrie grunted. “We join their cause. Can they trust us?”

Kyrie urged Mango toward the oasis garden—a green marvel at the end of Rainbow Square. The elephant stepped out, majestic, confident, but Fannie balked, rearing as Empire guards marched by the fountain with spears, swords, and bows ready.

“The battle is over.” Awa stroked velvet ears. “Yesterday’s blood on their swords.”

“Yesterday’s blood is everywhere,” Djola said.