‘Something else I’m sick of,’ he roared. ‘It does nothing but screech and throw its shit at me.’

Enet nodded. ‘Then kill it,’ she said over its noise. Xac paused and looked at her, and the Chorus warrior at the far wall stiffened, his gaze snapping to them. He made no move to interfere, as she had known he would not. His loyalty belonged to her. Still, her words were more than dangerous – they were sacrilege.

‘It’s just an animal. Kill it and we can eat it later. You said you’d never killed anything. You haven’t experienced the taking of life and perhaps you should. Perhaps when the Melody returns to Yalotlan after the Wet, that newfound experience will weave through the song and strengthen our warriors. Your experiences are what shape the song, after all. Your knowledge; your magic.’

She leant closer and sucked at the bleeding bite on her hand. A little obvious, perhaps, but, judging by the way Xac’s throat moved convulsively as he watched her, effective. She swallowed blood. ‘Feel,’ she whispered. ‘Feel something new, my love, and weave it into a song that will last forever.’

The Singer lifted the squirming monkey in one hand and squeezed, tentative at first until it squeaked, and then his face turned ugly and the song jumped and he squeezed again, hard and furious and delighted, until its frightened squealing was lost beneath the cracking of its bones. Enet watched, dizzy and wondering at her own audacity as the tiny death rumbled through the song, swelling it with sudden power, and Xac’s skin flushed golden-red again. It was proof. It was what she needed and now that she had seen it, taking the next step was easier.

‘That was not the gift, holy lord,’ she said in a smoky voice as the Singer examined the little corpse. He glanced up, his brow furrowing as the body flopped in his grip. ‘The true gift is not another monkey. It is not pretty or musical. It is dangerous, Singer.’

The song will change if he accepts this, change maybe forever, and my future will be secured. Or my death.

No. It is worth the risk. We are too close to the wakening. It has to be now.

‘May I send for it?’ Enet asked. When he didn’t answer, she rose from the mats and straightened her kilt as she strode to the courtesans’ entrance, then signalled for her guards to bring it in. She took the cloth-wrapped package one profferred her, hummingbirds taking flight in her belly.

Enet hurried back to Xac’s side, noting the wary confusion in his face as they brought in the hooded, bound figure and kicked it to its knees. She flicked fingers in dismissal of her guards and let the Chorus warrior take over, standing above the prisoner with his club ready.