She gestured and her warriors braced themselves; then they flung the youth into the river. He spluttered and surfaced, striking out for shore with flailing arms, choking and shrieking in an ecstasy of terror. The water god glided forward and snagged his ankle, dragging him back. The holy Setatmeh mouth opened again and this time it did sing, a liquid stream of notes that spoke directly to Enet’s legs and heart. Everyone on the bank stepped forward into the shallows, her son included, all of them yearning towards the perfection of the Setatmeh voice, song within the greater song.

Hearing it, its promise, the scribe turned in the Setatmeh arms and embraced it and it wrapped him up and buried its face in his throat, its song falling silent and releasing those who listened. Blood arced across the sunset, crimson against gold, the very essence of life ending against the ending of the light, and Enet stood in the shallows and watched her god feed, her spirit yearning to hear again its perfect voice.

‘For the glory of the Empire of Songs. For the world spirit. For the Singer,’ she breathed, and under the words – which she meant with every bone and muscle in her – other words drifted, unsaid and unthought. Glory. Influence. The right person to wield the song-magic as it is meant to be wielded.

When it was done, Enet and her attendants returned to the road and the litter. The body slave picked up the cage holding the monkey, the bearers picked up the litter, and, in awestruck, contemplative silence, the party crossed the bridge and made their way past the wide, walled palaces of nobles under a bloody sky and within a triumphant song.

Whatever had happened up to this point, the day had ended in song-given glory, and Enet would not forget it. The Empire was all. And all would live within its bounds.

THE SINGER

The source, Singing City, Pechacan, Empire of Songs

The song and the Empire that lives within its embrace are mine. It is my will that shapes the song and so it is my will that shapes the Empire. And my will cannot be denied.

The song is brought into being by my flesh and mind, my spirit and intentions. It is my duty to the people of the Empire, my greatest gift, my deepest honour. And the honouring of the song and its Singer is the Empire’s own duty. It is my right and the Empire’s truth. Inviolable.

Reverence is my due.

The song sings in their blood and bones as it does in mine, drawing us together into one nation. The song binds us in joy and harmony, restoring the balance when it falters, bringing peace where there is strife. The song is the question and the answer, the bringer of life and the bringer of death – of balance. Harmony.