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lies faceup on the tabletop of sandstone, completely bare and vulnerable before the Lady of the Sky for three days. The weather She chooses to send is representative of that future king’s reign. After the ceremony, kings often return to the mesa to pray and meditate. But the Ashkarians wouldn’t know this because they don’t worship the First Gods and they showed no interest in learning our traditions. And the temple is located in the center of the mesa, cut into the earth like ant tunnels, making it completely invisible from below the butte.

When Minoak wasn’t camped near the Lady’s Lake, where infants are presented to the Goddess for naming, or hidden in the Father’s Arms—a small oasis blossoming in the middle of the desert—Sawtooth Mesa came to mind next. It’s the perfect hiding spot for a hunted king, as only his people would know of it.

“What news?” I call as we hobble closer.

King Minoak isn’t with the scouts. That’s the first thing I notice. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He’s a king; he wouldn’t risk following strangers without proof of identity and guarantees of our intentions.

The second thing I notice is how the scouts flinch at the sound of my voice. How they refuse to meet my eyes.

“Well?” I demand. “Did you find him?”

“We didn’t even find the mesa,” Lalyne, the most experienced tracker among the shepherds, says.

“Nothing?” My last shred of hope rushes away with my breath. “But I gave you detailed directions….”

“To a place you’ve never been!” calls a shepherd from behind me.

I shoot the man an irritated glance and step closer to the scouts. “Did you cross the dry river basin? Are you sure you counted the dunes accurately, from straight beneath the guiding star?”

They stare at me without a spark of frustration or conviction. And now that I’m looking closely, their faces hardly look sunburned. Their boots aren’t encrusted with a week’s worth of snow and sand.

Did you even try? That’s what I want to ask. But I tighten my fists, smothering the starfire flaring in my hands. I must be a calm, confident leader. “This obviously isn’t what we hoped for, but we’ll organize another expedition—”

The cavern explodes with complaints.

“We’ll never find this hidden mesa, because it doesn’t exist!”

“And neither does your missing king! He’s obviously dead.”

“Otherwise, he’d be raising a rebellion and retaking Verdenet himself!”

“No. He wouldn’t,” I answer resolutely. “He knows better than to charge into a fortified city unprepared. He’s waiting for the opportune moment. And reinforcements.” I gesture to the gathered group, and the burst of derisive laughter almost knocks me off my feet. I feel like a cat, dangling from a wobbly branch by a single claw.

“You can’t honestly think we’re reinforcements. Look at us!” an elderly woman calls.

“We are just the beginning,” I say. “Enough to get Minoak through the gates of Lutaar City. All of the Verdenese inside will rise with us once they see their king is alive.”

“And what if he isn’t?” Iree shouts. “I say we enter now!” His family loudly agrees, no matter that they’re more prepared than anyone to wait a few additional days, thanks to the rations I sacrificed.

“We can’t just stroll into Lutaar City!” I don’t mean to get emotional, but my voice rakes and rattles like a Bone Reader’s poker.

Serik catches my elbow and tugs me a few steps away from the group. “Breathe, En. I know you think finding King Minoak is the only way. And it’s a noble plan, it is. But sometimes the necessary pieces just don’t come together. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It just means we have to keep an open mind.”

My eyes are hot and itchy and my voice scrapes against my tingling throat. “You’re giving up on me too?”

“I haven’t given up on you. Don’t be absurd. It just might be a good idea to listen to the majority in this case and find a way to defend against the Zemyans from inside Lutaar City, where we’ll have food and shelter.”

I break free from Serik’s hold, twisting my bad arm in the process. Pain explodes along the thick purple scars above my elbow. The algae’s florescent colors spin as I stumble into the winding tunnels, half blind and gasping. Serik calls after me. I can feel the shepherds’ judgmental eyes on my back. And I can’t stand any of it for another skies-forsaken second.

Throwing a cloak of blackness over myself, I wind farther and farther. Deeper and darker. Into the protective arms of the night, where no one else can reach me.

CHAPTER TWO

ENEBISH

THE TUNNEL ENDS IN AN INKY BLUE-BLACK CAVERN THAT’S never seen a speck of light. I flop down onto a stone slab that juts over a spring filled with little translucent racer fish, and close my eyes. Serik and the shepherds may be ready to give up and enter Lutaar City, but we can’t. The shepherds won’t cooperate unless they need us, and they won’t need us in there. Not until Kartok and Temujin arrive. But then it will be too late. We’ll be trapped. Enslaved. Obliterated by the starfire Kartok siphoned from me in his false Eternal Blue.

“How do I make them understand?” I tilt my head back and look up at the Lady of the Sky. I can’t actually see Her down here, buried beneath a league of limestone and sand, but it feels right to lift my face in reverence. I stare at the craggy ceiling, where yellow goblin spiders dangle from silver-spun webs. As I pray, I swirl the tendrils of night like a painter, brushing them gently over the gloom until the spiders and mold and stalactites are covered with glimmering wet darkness. Then I spatter it with an array of gemstone stars. Last, I sculpt Orbai and send her slashing through the blackness.

My breath catches as she soars above me. My hand trembles as I trace her shadowed wings. “Where are you?” I whisper, even though I know: she either perished in the burning

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