Ahkio stared into Kirana’s slack face, the still-open but blank eyes. He thought of Meyna. Oma, how he wanted to go home to Meyna and Rhin and Hadaoh and Mey-Mey. But they weren’t going to be his kin anymore, were they? It’s why they had never married him. They knew this day would come. Someone would kill the Kai, and Ahkio would take her seat. Did they hope he would grant them favors on that day?

“We have a duty to Dhai,” Nasaka said, following his stare. “We must get you dressed in something befitting your… title.”

“That’s like you,” Ahkio said. His voice broke. “You’ll watch another Kai perish, just like you watched my mother die. You pull all the strings.”

“No,” Nasaka said. “I don’t watch Kais die. I call tirajistas to save them. I use my sword to defend them. They may die regardless. But I always act. You’re the one who bides his time, waiting for someone else to make his fate. So get up, Ahkio. I don’t pull strings. I pull the people attached to them.”

“I’ll find out who killed her, Nasaka, if I have to burn this whole temple down around me.”

“One fire at a time,” Nasaka said. “That sanisi upstairs is asking for you.”

Ahkio stood.

Chapter 6

6

Lilia sat on the edge of the bed in the infirmary, waiting to hear the worst. The temple physician, Ora Matias, pressed two cool fingers to her chest. He watched her face as she took a deep breath. Halfway through her exhale, she began to cough. She kept coughing for several minutes, even after he gave her a sip of water.

Above, the dome over the infirmary let in the light of the triad of moons. The flame flies in the lanterns filled the darker spaces. The soft organic walls here had been smoothed over in lavender plaster. Lilia found the temple infirmary very soothing. Though most were kind to her in the temple – when they noticed her – it was the Oras in the infirmary who brought her relief from pain and discomfort, whether from her twisted leg or labored breath.

Matias was new to the temple, though, and she had not been in since his appointment. He was an agreeable-enough person with plump, ink-stained fingers and a habit of smoothing over his eyebrows.

“It’s a very mild case of asthma,” Matias said, “as I’m sure you know. A girl with lungs like yours should be a seamstress or a typesetter, not a laborer. I always wanted to be a typesetter, you know.”

“Then why are you a physician?”

“Well. Talent cannot be wasted. Tirajistas must serve Dhai. It’s not a terrible profession, and it still impresses my mothers.”

“I know I don’t look very strong,” Lilia said. “But I like the exercise. My leg’s worse when I don’t use it.”