She stayed close to the shaman after that, hurrying him along, and she insisted he leave the womb before her. Xessa paused before turning the corner and looked back one last time. The Drowned’s fingers twitched in something that might have been a wave, and then it rolled over in the water and put its armoured back to her.

ENET

Great Octave’s estate, Singing City, Pechacan, Empire of Songs

7th day of the grand absence of the Great Star

Enet sat in the light from the window, enjoying a rare break in the clouds, and mixed her tonic. She drank it down, barely noticing the grit or the aftertaste any more.

Reports had come from both Pilos and Atu, confirming progress was being made in Yalotlan. Once they had peace throughout Ixachipan, it would be time to consider waking the world spirit. And Xac with his red-stained song was perhaps not … the correct holy lord for so delicate a task.

It was frightening but freeing to know she didn’t need to worry so much about the Singer reading her intentions through the song any more. The holy lord was much preoccupied these days. Under her gentle, invisible guidance, she had led him to concentrate his attention on demanding and receiving updates on the war. The more stories of victory and bloodshed filled his head, the more they might begin to fill the gaping, black-toothed maw of hunger within him.

And of course, it kept Pilos accountable.

The song was a rumble of warning and impatience, summoning her as surely as any messenger or Listener. She would have to answer soon. She did what she could to keep his hungers in check, stretching out the days between offerings, but she also knew when Xac was reaching the point where he would take her if she didn’t supply an alternative. These days there was always a pretty slave held ready in her quarters within the source.

The holy lord grew ever more voracious in his appetites, and she had let it be known he was coming into the fullness of his power as Singer. The gossip was the opposite: that the Singer was waning and beginning his ascension, and the resultant scrambling among his council was as predictable as it was pathetic.