We love you, as-good-as-sister, Aditu and Jiriki told her. We will remember you when you are at rest. We will celebrate your sacrifice.

But Tanahaya did not want to be celebrated. She wanted nothing but to see the sun again and feel its dry warmth, to drink the scents on a breeze, to hear the music of wind through forest branches. She wanted to exist.

Give up the egg. It is not worth dying for, her childhood friend Yeja’aro told her.

No, it is worth living for, she told herself—told all the voices—even as her strength flagged and she slipped deeper into the boiling mud. It is worth living for.

Then without warning a wind swept across the world, just a whisper of a breeze at first, then stronger, gradually stronger, cooling the mud, cooling the drippingly hot air, cooling everything. At first Tanahaya thought it only another attack, but the mud that pulled at her began to turn solid and after only a few more moments she kicked her way free. The hot mire had lost its grip, and she pulled herself out of it and onto solid land for the first time in a long, long while. When she did not sink again, when the beautiful cool continued to grow, she knew she could finally stop fighting.

The fever. It was a last thought before she let go, before she could finally, truly rest after so long. The poison fever—it has finally broken.

•   •   •

“Tanahaya. Can you hear me?”

“It’s us, Aditu and Jiriki. Can you hear us?”

She opened her eyes, not without difficulty, because the lids were crusted and sore. “Where am I?” she asked.

“In H’ran Go-jao, Sister-bird,” said Aditu, the beloved face bent close above her. “It gives my heart joy to see you. We feared you lost, but the healers have done their work. And not just our healers—the mortals kept you alive until they could bring you here, praise to the Garden.”

“Yes,” said Jiriki, and there was something in his voice that Tanahaya had not heard before, something deep and profound. “Praise to the Garden.”

“Poison. My wounds were poisoned with something terrible. What was it?”

“The healers still do not know,” Aditu told her. “None of them have seen its like before. We are astonished you still live, dear friend.”

“But I failed my mission.” Tanahaya had recovered enough to feel shame. “I let myself be ambushed before I even reached Asu’a.”

“Did you see who did it?”

Tanahaya tried to shake her head but was still too weak. She felt fragile, no more substantial than dried flower petals. “They shot at me from hiding. It was more than one enemy and the arrows were black. That is all I know.”

“Black like those of the Hikeda’ya?”

“Perhaps. At the time I did not closely examine their workmanship, and when I awoke later they were gone.” She lay still for a moment, breathing slowly, trying to think. “How did I get here?”

“The mortals brought you. The young prince and Count Eolair, an old ally of ours.”

“I wish to thank them.”

Jiriki made Lapwing’s Cry with his long fingers, the sign for a sadness that could not be helped. “They have gone. S’hue Khendraja’aro sent them back.”

“But we need their help!”

Aditu sat up, her hands cradling her round belly. “Yes, and they sought help from us as well, but the time is wrong for it—perhaps wrong beyond mending. It seems the curse of our two races to be so often at cross purposes.”

“So what will we do?” Despite her fear, Tanahaya felt sleep pulling powerfully at her, but she did not want to give up the world again so soon.

“What we must,” Jiriki said. “Fight on. Give our lives if that is all we can do. Because if we lose this time, the ending is unthinkable. It will be worse than what Ineluki Storm King himself had planned.” He made a sign against the jealous dead. “It may bring Unbeing itself.”

“But you are not ready to rejoin that battle yet,” Aditu told her. “Sleep, dear Tanahaya. Sleep. As we say, tomorrow the Garden may be closer.”

But even as she let herself slide back toward exhausted sleep, Tanahaya knew that Aditu only meant to soothe her. The Garden was lost, as all their people knew. It would remain lost no matter what, or at least everything good it had contained was gone beyond reclaiming. That was the doom of her people.

Appendix

PEOPLE

ERKYNLANDERS

Aedonita—playmate of Princess Lillia

Agar, St.—an Aedonite saint

Avner, Father—Lord Tiamak’s secretary

Begga—one of Princess Idela’s ladies in waiting; trained in healing

Benamin—the royal butler of the Hayholt

Buttercup—mistress of a brothel in Erchester

Cloda—Prince Morgan’s onetime nurse

Colfer, Baron—nobleman; part of the royal progress

Devona, Lady—Lord Gareth’s wife; mistress of Northithe

Dregan—an innocent wanderer in the Kynswood

Eahlstan Fiskerne, St.—King Simon’s ancestor and founder of the League of the Scroll; sixth king of the Hayholt; called the “Fisher King”

Elias, King—former High King; Queen Miriamele’s father

Elyweld—Aedonita’s sister

Etan, Brother—an Aedonite monk

Evoric, Baron—baron of Haestall

Feran, Lord—Master of Horse; Marshal of the Hayholt

Gared, Earl—nobleman of Northithe; husband of Lady Devona

Gervis, Archbishop—archbishop of Erkynland

Goda—the ostler’s girl

Hatcher—owner of the Quarely Maid

Idela, Princess—widow of Prince John Josua; daughter of Duke Osric

Jack Mundwode—a mythical forest bandit

Jeremias, Lord—Lord Chamberlain of the Hayholt

John Josua, Prince—son of King Simon and Queen Miriamele; Prince Morgan and Princess Lillia’s father; late husband of Princess Idela; called “Johnno” by King Simon

John Presbyter, King—former High King; Queen Miriamele’s grandfather; also known as Prester John

Josua, Prince—King Elias’ brother; Queen Miriamele’s uncle

Jubal, Sir—a knight

Jurgen of Sturmstad, Sir—Night Captain of the Erkynguard

Kenrick, Sir—a young Captain Marshal of the Erkynguard

Lillia, Princess—granddaughter of King Simon and Queen Miriamele; Morgan’s sister

Leleth—Queen Miriamele’s former handmaid

Martha—resident maid of the Hayholt

Melkin—Prince Morgan’s squire

Miriamele, Queen—High Queen of Osten Ard; wife of King Simon

Morgan, Prince—heir to the High Throne; son of Prince John Josua and Princess Idela

Morgenes, Doctor—former Scrollbearer; King Simon’s onetime friend and mentor

Natan—a forester of the Kynswood

Osric, Duke—Lord Constable and Duke of Falshire and Wentmouth; Princess Idela’s father

Putnam, Bishop—senior of the priests traveling with the royal party

Rachel—former Mistress of Chambermaids of the Hayholt; also known as “The Dragon”

Rinan—a young harper

Rowson, Earl—a nobleman of Glenwick

Sangfugol—a famous harper of the Hayholt

Seth of Woodsall—chief architect of the Royal Court

Shulamit, Lady—one of Queen Miriamele’s court ladies

Simon, King—High King of Osten Ard and husband of Queen Miriamele; also known as “Seoman”, his birth name; sometimes called “Snowlock”

Sofra—a young woman; acquaintance of Prince Morgan

Strangyeard, Father—former Scrollbearer and royal chaplain of the Hayholt

Sutrin, St.—an Aedonite saint, also known as Sutrines

Tabata—resident maid of the Hayholt

Tamar, Lady—wife of the Baron of Aynsberry; one of Queen Miriamele’s chief ladies-in-waiting

Thomas Oystercatcher—mayor of Erchester