Eight letters to Meyna had gone unanswered. Still, Ahkio searched for her face among those sitting behind Nasaka at the great yellow adenoak tables. The only kin of his he saw were distant cousins, twice or three times removed. Only Liaro had written him, a letter of sympathy for Kirana’s death. Ahkio kept it under his pillow where he slept now, in Kirana’s large bed behind the Kai study, at the very top of the temple.

Nasaka rose from her place at the table and picked up the silver plate that bore what remained of his sister’s preserved heart. She brought it to the dais and offered it to Ahkio.

Ahkio took a sliver of Kirana’s heart. He had eaten most of her heart the day after she died; the act of eating her heart amid this stoic crowd was largely symbolic. He sent up a prayer to Oma then, because in all likelihood, Oma was close enough to hear him, now: if I’m not the right person for this seat, you need to show me another path.

He swallowed the flesh of his sister’s heart and became Kai.

The funerary chefs and kitchen drudges brought in the dishes prepared from his sister’s well-salted body – blood sausage and blood pudding, fried liver, sweetly seasoned ribs and delicate finger bones dipped in lemon juice and butter. The meal was complemented by honey wine and blackberry liquor, as well as other delicacies such as roasted fiddleheads, bracken tops, and nasturtiums.

When the ceremony was finished, he made polite talk with the clan leaders and Oras. Nasaka stayed at his side, too close for his comfort, and after an hour of too much wine in the too-warm Sanctuary, he evaded her by escaping to the privy at the end of the hall.

He sat there listening to the rush of water running underneath the bank of stone seats and purling down the washing sinks, until three novices burst in, eyes bright, voices loud – already a little drunk.

Ahkio pushed out of the privy and nearly fell into Elaiko.

“Kai,” she said, and he winced. He wished he were as drunk as the novices.

“There’s a man here for you,” Elaiko said. “Your cousin?”

“There he is!”

Ahkio knew the voice. He hurried past Elaiko, toward the great foyer.

Liaro waved to him from the bottom of the stairs, a lumpy pack slung over one shoulder.

Ahkio held out his arms, and Liaro stepped into his embrace.

“Oma, cousin,” Ahkio said. “You don’t know how good it is to see you.”

“I came as quickly as I could,” Liaro said. “Sina, look at your hair! Is the ascension over?”

“I would have liked you here sooner. Where’s Meyna?”

Liaro cleared his throat. “Ah. Meyna. Well, about that-”

“What are you doing out here?” Nasaka asked, pushing her way out of the Sanctuary.