Chapters (102)
Djola snatched it. Leaving Vandana to clean up the galley mess, he dashed to sick bay. Orca, smelling of moon mist, hovered close as Djola neutralized Kyrie’s conjure with gold dust, broke the seal, and read Grain’s flowing script.
What you predicted comes true. Strength to you, Djola, in exile
No rainbow fish run the rivers—revelers at the Water Festival go hungry
Kyrie sends honey, mangos, and goats for Arms to distribute in the Arkhys market
Empire coffers are full, though few can afford taxes
Azizi hoards money for the coming wars over water, grain, and tree oil
I persuaded Council to build storm shelters throughout the capital
Shelters are Zamanzi conjure against void-storms, and nobody sneers
I waited, hoping we’d catch a culprit but after months of investigation Arms still cannot say who murdered your men
Only six were found—I saw the bodies—they put up a good fight
The other six are still missing
I suspect they protect Samina and your children, wherever they hide
Kyrie sends hope and power to your conjure hand
Djola let the scroll fall to the deck. His heart hammered at his veins.
Orca dug at tension in his back as Djola whispered, “They saved my life many times.”
After he and Arms liberated Holy City, thief-lords surrendered and swore an oath to peace. Celebrating, Djola and everyone got drunk on tainted wine. Just a few warriors stood watch. Rogue barbarians mounted a cowardly ambush, no hope of victory, just terror. Sober Rano sounded the alarm and took a barbarian arrow in the shoulder pulling an unconscious Djola from a burning tent.
“My best friend, murdered, because of me.” Djola gripped Orca’s shoulders. “Tortured for my family, my secrets.” Honorable to the end, Rano had died without revealing where Samina and the children were. He doted on Bal, Quint, and Tessa most of all—the children he never got to have. “Rano was a true friend.”
Orca pulled Djola close, kissed his cheeks, told him to breathe.
“Has Kyrie gone mad?” Djola trembled against Orca. “No more hope for rainbow fish or Rano.” His family must still be at the hideaway or on Mount Eidhou with Kyrie, who told nobody, not even Grain. “Basawili, Rano.”
Vandana appeared. As Orca told her the news, Djola choked on sorrow. He was the fool Rano and his guard died for. Vandana grimaced. “Pezarrat says we’ll be in the floating cities in a few weeks.”
“He lies.” Djola collapsed into Orca.
“We’ll get there, eventually,” Vandana insisted.
“Too long,” said Djola, mumbling. He fell asleep in Orca’s arms, grateful for the boy’s warm body.
The elephant with a broken tusk trumpeted, flapped enormous ears, and spewed poison sand in his dreams. Djola shielded his face and called to her, bitter. “Did you hear? Rano and my men were murdered, but we’ll reach the floating cities.” Eventually.