satchel.”
Serik’s eyes light up and he digs through my pack. He uncorks the green glass bottle and brings it to his lips. “I will happily worship like this any day.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” I snatch it away. “That’s for the shrine.” I pour a bit of the liquor into my palm and flick it toward the north in remembrance of Father Guzan. The sharp, yeasty smell fills the air, bringing with it another barrage of memories: the crowded army encampments at the war front, collapsing in my tent after a long day of battle, exhausted to my bones and drinking vorkhi with my comrades until the world was fuzzier and lighter.
“All right, all right. The Lady of the Sky and Father Guzan have had enough.” Serik pries the bottle from my fingers. “I’m sure they won’t mind sharing.” He takes a long sip and offers it to me.
I push the bottle aside. “We have a job to do. We can’t be staggering into Sagaan.”
“There’s hardly enough here to make us stagger, and in case you’ve forgotten, we’re not allowed to enter the city. We might as well have a little fun.” He shakes the vorkhi at me. “You do remember how to have fun, don’t you? Or has it been too long?”
“You are a bad influence, Serik.”
“I never claimed to be a good influence. Now drink, otherwise I’ll down the entire bottle and I will be staggering and you’ll have to carry me the rest of the way.”
“Fine.” I take the vorkhi and shoot him a very serious, very unamused look. “Just a few sips.”
But the liquor blazes like sparks across my tongue and a few sips turn into a few long drags. Before I know it, we’ve drained every drop. Serik balances the empty bottle at the top of the mound like a crown.
“That’s my offering!” he shouts to the cloudless sky. “You’re welcome.”
A burst of laughter tumbles from my mouth, even though his irreverence isn’t funny. We are asking to be stricken. I attempt to scowl at Serik, but I can’t stop laughing and I don’t want him to see, so I clap my hand over my mouth and stumble back to the cart.
The rest of our journey passes in a blur. Serik sings old folk songs about horses and battles and the beauty of Ashkar while I wave my staff around like a saber. The monastery doesn’t exist out here. Neither does the past or future. There is only now, this moment. Me and Serik, surrounded by the enormity of the grasslands. I spin and spin and spin, wanting to glimpse everything, needing to touch every corner of it.
It isn’t until Serik curses under his breath that I notice the mounted figure at the crossroads. My arms fall slack at my sides and my leg resumes throbbing. All the vorkhi in the world can’t dull the pain I feel at this glimpse of my former life.
“You should have arrived an hour ago,” the warrior calls in greeting. We shouldn’t be able to hear her yet, but she projects her voice on the wind, which means she’s a Breeze Bringer, blessed to control the gusts and squalls. Serik slides me a mischievous look and pulls back on the mule’s rope, slowing our approach even further. The warrior’s eyebrows gather.
“We came as quickly as we could,” he says without a hint of apology once we’re in actual hearing distance.
“I suppose I should have expected as much.” The girl looks pointedly at my leg and her lips curl with disgust. She’s several years younger than I am, so I couldn’t have served with her, but once again my reputation precedes me.
Serik sets his jaw and returns her glare. I try to mimic him, but the girl just snickers. She flips her long yellow braid over her shoulder, snatches the mule’s rope from Serik, and, without a word to either of us, spurs her horse down the hill to Sagaan. The eagle cart kicks up clouds of dust that make me cough.
The capital is far more than a smudge now. Hundreds of houses and shops edge the Amereti River like hand-sewn lace, following its curve as it snakes through the city. On the northern embankment, beyond the quaint gardens and residential streets, lies the Grand Courtyard of the Sky Palace. It teems with festivalgoers clad in their finest satins and silks: from here they look like azure, garnet, and blush-colored beetles. Beyond the royal complex, there’s a wrestling pit and a