She landed in a field of succulents. The broad, slime-filled leaves cushioned her fall. She landed amid a tangle of broken leaves and watery plant matter.

Lilia crawled out of the field and saw the white pillars in front of her. Looked back. The succulents had grown spontaneously, just in time to catch her. Her mother’s final gift.

She gazed up at the mirror. The surface had gone dark. It reflected the fires of the camp, the flags, and the broken succulents. The infused power that had made it glow was gone. Where her mother had been was a scorched mark.

Lilia heard raised voices behind her, the sounds of a kicked nest swarming. But she walked to the face of the mirror anyway. She stared into her own scarred, grimy face. Her torn tunic, smeared in the guts of succulents. Her matted hair, her forgettable face.

“You will remember me,” she said, and broke the face of the mirror with her bare fists.

She brought up her bloody hands as people began to stream toward her. She looked back at them only once. Then she pulled on Oma, a deep, frightful breath, and flayed the first wave of them where they stood.

Blood flecked her face. She brought up her hand and another raw breath of Oma, and tangled together the blood of the dead into perfect trefoils, bound by their long tails. She sang the Saiduan Song of the Dead as she did it. She burned the image of the camp in her mind, the camp at the base of the Liona mountains, where Gian waited for her.

A gate winked open, just big enough to crawl through. Unsure how long she could hold it, she jumped through and released Oma. The gate closed.

Lilia stood in the mud. The moons were out.

“Taigan!” she yelled. She looked back. The camp was intact. No fires. But she could still smell the burnt meat of the legion. “Taigan!”

“Here!” Taigan rode out to meet her from the far fence. “I thought you might return.”

“Is everyone safe?”

“They pulled back,” Taigan said. “I suspect they worried there were more of you. Where’s the legionnaire?”

“I don’t care,” Lilia said. “Where’s Gian and Emlee?”

“Your friends? Where they live, I expect.”

She began to trudge toward the camp.

“Where are you going?” Taigan asked.

“It’s time to fly,” Lilia said.

Chapter 49

49

Ahkio walked into the low bedroom of the private home in Raona where Liaro lay. He looked small. Ahkio sat on the edge of the bed. With the council house burned to the ground, the wounded were bedded down in whatever homes would take them.

Liaro reached out a hot, sweaty hand to him and said, “Ahkio.”

“I hear you’re supposed to live,” Ahkio said. He pulled Kirana’s book from his pocket. “If I practice reading aloud, I might get better at it, and you might get some sleep.”