to slowly fill the howling emptiness in my chest, but the pain grows more acute with each mission because I catch myself scanning every face, hoping Serik changed his mind. My eyes snag on every cloak, looking for the golden sunbursts.
As the weeks wear on, the Shoniin try to cheer and distract me. Inkar takes me to train the children, which I love, but I cannot watch them wave their sticks without thinking of the little boy and girl who used to spar on Ghoa’s parents’ estate.
Oyunna drags me to the bonfire revelries and paints my face with thick white makeup to hide my traitor’s mark, like the noblewomen in Sagaan, but all I can think is that Serik would hate it.
They’re turning you into someone you’re not. Someone I don’t recognize.
Not even Orbai can fill the void. Mostly because she’s always up in the clouds. On the rare occasion she does answer my call, she screeches and beats her wings against the walls of the tent until I release her. I don’t blame her. If I could sail through the infinite blue skies with the Lady and Father, I wouldn’t want to be trapped on the ground or confined to a tent either.
Surprisingly, Temujin is the one who offers a small measure of comfort. Despite his busy schedule, he sits in my tent and recites songs and tales of the First Gods. Sometimes he distracts me with reports of the recruits’ training progress or asks for help drafting more missives to Ghoa. When our scouts in Verdenet bring word that King Minoak’s golden suit of armor vanished from Nashab Market—where it has been kept for the last seven hundred years, and can only be unlocked with the king’s signet ring—we spend the day speculating excitedly, brainstorming all the places he could be hiding.
“He would obviously head straight for Namaag,” Temujin says. “His younger sister is married to the vice chancellor. They would give him asylum.”
“But the Sky King would expect that. He’d have warriors waiting along the caravan routes,” I argue.
“The Sky King would have to pull warriors from the battlefront to do that, and thanks to us, he doesn’t have many to spare….”
“True, but I still don’t think Minoak would risk it. And he wouldn’t just abandon his people. He’s somewhere close. Where he can watch the imperial governor and regroup.”
“You speak as if you know him personally.” Temujin chuckles. “I hope you’re right, but how can you have so much confidence in a king you’ve never met?”
“The same way I devote my life to a goddess I’ve never seen. The same way I trust a notorious criminal to save our people.” I nudge him with my elbow. “Commitment born of perfect knowledge lacks the most powerful factor of all—faith.”
Temujin studies me thoughtfully before his face scrunches with exaggerated shock. “Do my ears deceive me, or did you just admit that you finally trust me?”
“Maybe. Partially. But don’t let it go to your head.”
I expect him to come back with a witty reply, but he reaches into his satchel and removes his Book of Whisperings instead. “Enough for this?”
He holds it out and I suck in a breath. The leather is so old and crinkled, it looks like the ear of an elephant. It’s smaller than my family’s book, and held together with a long leather strap instead of a metal clasp, but the same hum of energy emanates from its pages. An overwhelming sense of peace and strength.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Positive.” He scoots so close, our thighs brush. With careful fingers, he unwinds the strap and opens the book across our laps. He reaches into his tunic and pulls out two quills, offering one to me. “Let’s write together.”
I nibble my lip and look from the quill to Temujin. I have never written with someone else. I was too young to do so when my family perished. But it’s not something to be taken lightly. To write in a Book of Whisperings with someone is to invite them into your head, to bare the innermost parts of your soul. You converse with the Lady of the Sky together, which means there are no secrets. No hiding. But what do I have to hide at this point?
You could still come back, Ghoa’s voice dances through my ears like the strains of a distant song. When I first entered the realm of the Eternal Blue, her voice was nearly as loud as my own. But now it’s nothing