‘They say more than no!’ Peace-weaver Betsu shouted as mutters rose among the elders. She was a short, stocky woman who’d come to council in her armour. She knelt on Tayan’s far side like an angry toad. ‘They say they have no quarrel with the Empire of Songs and no love for the peoples of Ixachipan. They reminded us that three generations ago, when the Pechaqueh suddenly began their conquest of the world, they urged us to stand with the other tribes and grind Pechacan to dust. To stamp the Singing City back into the mud. They know we look outside of Ixachipan for aid now because all the other tribes have fallen and we have nowhere else to turn.’

Her words had silenced the room and into that silence she laughed, bitter as venom. ‘And they’re right. We did ignore the pleas of the Chitenecah when their land was threatened, and the Zellih, even so far away as they are, did urge us to fight. While we cowered in our cities and villages and prayed for the Pechaqueh to look elsewhere, the Zellih called for war. And we said no.’

‘You blame us for this?’ High Elder Vaqix demanded, fury weaving through his voice. An echo of it stirred in Lilla.

‘Yes,’ Betsu said, ‘but no more than I blame my own people and every tribe that walks Ixachipan. Pechacan, its people and its song are a curse upon the world and they have stolen the lives and lands of too many – of almost everyone – but still, not all the obsidian and jade we could offer will make the Zellih fight the Empire now. They believe them too strong; they believe them unstoppable. They trust in their hills and the salt pans to protect them.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We are alone.’

‘You are not.’ Vaqix’s voice was strong as mahogany despite Betsu’s scorn and the shaken expression flickering across his gaunt features. ‘Tokoban stands with you.’

Betsu laughed again, its edges jagged. Lilla leant away from her sharpness. ‘Then perhaps we will survive one season longer as a result. I am sure that will comfort the new parents among both our peoples. They can spend it deciding whether slavery or death is the future they want for their children and themselves.’

The council chamber descended into hostile silence.

‘The Zellih also warned us that refugees will not be welcomed,’ Tayan said. ‘They are stationing warriors on the edge of the salt pans at the border of Ixachipan and Barazal, and they will kill any who attempt to cross.’

Lilla had thought the news couldn’t get any worse, but at Tayan’s pronouncement he felt the blood drain from his face and blinked, suddenly dizzy. At some point he’d let go of the shaman’s hand and now he stared down into his lap, focusing on his fingers with unblinking intensity.