Chapters (102)
“Don’t count on the speed of thought.” Yari danced around Awa, jabbing her with drumsticks. “Spirit slaves will suck your dreams and leave you hollow.”
“I’ve never seen that happen.” Awa dodged the sticks. “People make up terrifying lies about smoke-walking because they’re afraid to venture beyond the everyday.”
“True”—Yari halted—“but always play caution and risk together. Promise me.”
Awa groaned. “Of course.” She held up her charm bracelet. “I always carry bee stingers from a Smokeland hive.”
“Good. Rehearse what to say to other smoke-walkers beforehand.”
Awa had yet to meet Mother. Would she dare Smokeland journeys without Awa? Just in case, Awa decided to rehearse a speech for her. “I will.”
Bal balanced on an arm, swirling her legs and a sword in figure eights, so elegant and deadly that Awa wanted to … what? “I’m tired of just guarding your breath body here and now,” Bal declared. “Just waiting, waiting, waiting…”
“Practice patience,” Yari said. “Shadow warriors can’t let stillness be an enemy.”
Bal rolled her eyes. “Who’d poison Awa’s breath body in an Elder enclave and then live to steal her spirit body in Smokeland?”
“Don’t underestimate our enemies.” Yari’s voice shook. “They may know as much as we do. Or more.”
Did Hezram know more than Yari?
Bal jumped in front of Awa before she could ask. “Take me with you to Smokeland?” Bal knew what Awa wanted before Awa did.
“If I’m able, yes,” Awa replied.
Yari hugged them to vie’s heart. “Of course you’ll be able.” Yari often acted like the sentimental Elders from carnival tales. Awa and Bal took secret pleasure in this. Every Sprite hoped griots would spin epics from their adventures, but Awa and Bal had an advantage. Yari was griot for all the Green Elder clans, the griot of griots, what Empire citizens called a walking library and Lahesh called a bridge, one foot in yesterday, the other in tomorrow.
Vie’s tales were renowned in the floating cities, around the Golden Gulf, across the Arkhysian Empire and beyond where the maps ran out. Yari knew something about everything or at least more than most griots. Vie released Awa and Bal and smiled. “You’ll travel together many times, to every region of your hearts.”
“Really?” Bal asked. “You see this?”
“Yes.” Yari’s eyes filled with tears. “You shall make a new world.”
Yari always said, Each day, every one of us makes the world new. New wasn’t necessarily good, yet Awa felt certain that, despite experiencing many, many worlds, Yari looked forward to the one she and Bal would make.