Awa’s head throbbed. Djola and Kyrie must be dead to this world. How would she stand it? “Why am I alive? They tricked me.”

“Did you think Kyrie and Djola would let you throw yourself away in a gate-spell?”

“Why throw themselves away?” Grief gripped Awa’s stomach. “What good am I?”

Bal stomped from the sumptuous bed to a window looking out to Mount Eidhou. “How could you just leave me like that, without a word?”

“I’m sorry.” Awa staggered over and hugged vie. “Looking at you, saying anything, I wouldn’t have been able to—” Bright light spilled in the window. Awa had never expected to see the sun rise another day or hear the river gurgling secrets to the sea. She never expected to hold Bal in her arms again. Miracles.

Bal held up Kyrie’s conjure book and Djola’s small bag. “We keep their spirits alive.”

Grief tightened its grip on Awa’s stomach. “Do they haunt the gates?”

“Nobody knows. We hoped you’d tell us.” Bal put a scroll in Awa’s hand. “Djola left you a letter.”

Awa pressed his words to her heart. “What does it say?”

“I didn’t read it.” Bal splashed water in her face. “Council is in an hour.”

“What?” Awa fell on carpet as soft as the cushions.

“You dance Xhalan Xhala.” Bal sank down to her. “Azizi needs you. He’s given you a chair at the flying-jackal table—they meet outside now.”

“But I have to get used to being alive.”

“Yes. You do.” Bal laughed and cried and kissed her.

Vie helped her pull on Elder tunic and pants and wrapped her hair in Aido cloth: many maps for the same territory, a map of maps. More tears flowed and they clutched each other. Bal slipped a cloud-silk robe over Awa’s head then tied a sash and Aido bag around her waist. Awa put Djola’s scroll in the bag with his heart wheel and Lahesh crystal. Something of him to look forward to.

“If this was the best plan, why not tell me instead of treat me like a Sprite?”

“They wanted you to believe in yourself.” Bal stroked the snake mark on her forehead. “You were ready to die for the world you loved, why not live for it?”

Awa painted silver snowflakes under one eye and over the other. She’d get tattoos later. “For Samina.” She groaned as memories flooded her. “I saw Jod put a sword through Rokiat and Meera. I would hear harsh truth now rather than later.”

“Rokiat and Meera lost a lot of blood. Lilot doesn’t know if they’ll make it or not.”

Awa wanted to hear dead or not dead, not maybe dead or maybe pulling through. “Can I see them?”