“You must! I need to talk to Amasai. He fights for what is not important.”

I pushed Laken ahead of me out of our rooms, and, muttering and wringing her hands, she took me to Maelmor.

He stared at me when I entered, his body rigid with shock. Then he remembered I was Quelled, and turned away “What are you doing in these chambers, harsha?” he asked, through clenched teeth.

“I wish to speak with you about my inauguration,” I replied. “For once there is agreement between us, Maelmor. Enough blood has been shed. All that is needed is a quiet place where I can make my vows before witnesses, and where you can appoint me Firewoman.”

“That is not enough,” said Amasai, from across the room. “You are to be High Diviner, Elsha. That is the supreme office in our dominion. I will not have that honour bestowed on you furtively, as if you were unworthy. If they have to do it with my sword above their heads, every citizen in Kasimarra will pay you proper homage.”

“But what kind of homage is that, Amasai?” I asked. “You told me a little while ago that you would not force your men to fight for what they do not believe. How can you now say that you will force others to honour what they ardently despise? Steel does not change people’s hearts. Swords bring division and death. I want harmony between Quelled and Chosen. I want equality.”

Maelmor swore, then laughed bitterly “Equality!”

“It already exists,” I said, “though you Chosen won’t acknowledge it yet.”

Maelmor decided to ignore that. He looked at my right shoulder. “You will be satisfied, then, with a simple ceremony with only priests for witnesses?”

“Not only priests,” I said. “Witnesses I trust. Soldiers who fought for me. I want Lesharo there, and Amasai.”

“And it will be enough for you just to make your vows, and be gone on your divining business?”

“It will be enough for me to become Firelord, and to pronounce the new laws.”

For an instant Maelmor’s eyes met mine “No new laws, harsha.”

“If I am Firelord,” I said, “there will be reforms.”

“And if I repeal them?”

“Then I will not divine.”

“You would not dare. You would kill us all with cold.”

“The Chosen would kill us, Maelmor, with their conceit and their lies.”

He stepped near me, his right hand on his sword. Amasai was already between us, his sword naked against the high priest’s heart.

Maelmor ignored Amasai. He looked straight in my eyes and said, in a voice shaking with wrath, “What gives you the right to call us liars?”

“The Book of Hamash gives me the right,” I said.

Maelmor turned away and went over to the window. He leaned on the ledge there, looking down on his troubled realm, his head bent low.