“Find an antidote for devastation.” Urzula pointed to withered bushes and trees that had been savaged by yesterday’s storm. “Bring Kyrie back to the table.” She touched Djola’s cheek. Her hands were cool and rough. “My husband will welcome you both.”

“Kyrie won’t come back unless we change.” Djola thrust the sweetgrass basket at her. “The bones of the future. Get this to Samina. Tell her I’m sorry for not following her advice. Tell her I love her.”

“Of course you do.” Urzula took the basket. “And you love the world.”

“Sentimental slop.” Lilot grunted. “Survive any way you can, poison master.”

“Yes. We need you.” Urzula gripped his shoulders. “Come back to Zizi with proof that what you told Council is true and find an antidote.”

“Impossible.” Djola groaned. “Zizi chose greedy masters over me.”

“You asked proud masters to live like Green Elders and Anawanama savages for ten years. That’s impossible. How could Azizi say yes and maintain power?” Urzula kissed Djola’s dry lips and pulled him to her bosom. He felt less jumbled as she held his sorrow. “High priest Hezram angles for your chair but Lahesh tinkerers know something about everything. Go find a Lahesh spell nobody can deny, something better than Hezram’s Dream Gates in Holy City and you’ll sit beside the emperor again. Samina will forgive your foolish arrogance. She’ll bring your children down from Kyrie’s mountain to celebrate your return.” She released him. “Come back to us all.”

“A Lahesh antidote. Yes. I can do this.” Djola repeated this as the guards marched him across the bridge and past Azizi’s daughter and son. The children stared at him and let go of their strings. The bird kites flew up over the citadel turrets and vanished.

14

Elephant Memories

The Elephant stands at the foot of Mount Eidhou uncertain which direction to take. Her map for today and tomorrow is blank. As the sun hides behind steep cliffs, she remembers Djola, his scents, his laughter. Empire guards drag him down the alley behind the citadel, and she is sad. These are the same bad men who wanted to poke her with sharp blades last night. They scurry through sparse trees toward the Salty Sea. Djola stumbles along, his eyes glazed, his limbs rubbery. Will the guards eat him?

Once, long ago, when the Elephant was crossing a muddy river, her family lost to mist, her spirits low, Djola came riding by, smelling of fruit, ink, and good humor. He sat on a tall horse and watched the Elephant try to scramble up crumbling banks. The Elephant was young, her legs too short, and the mud sucked her strength. She was weak and hungry and expected any moment to be eaten. The wind roared in distant trees, carrying the scent of predators.