of the weather. “I believe that in and of itself proves its validity.”
“With all due respect, Your Excellence,” the head augur said, bowing, “it merely proves that our predecessors considered it dangerous.”
Dangerous and true, the kehok’s voice echoed in Raia’s head. She was startled—she heard him only rarely. She repeated his words: “Dangerous and true.” She added, “I was chosen to be an augur. I’m proof that who we were doesn’t determine who we become.”
“You are but one person,” the head augur objected.
“Then study this,” Dar said. “I am giving you the chance to prepare for the questions, the confusion, and the changes this announcement will cause. You have two months.”
All the augurs began to babble, objecting.
Convince them, Raia told her kehok.
He paced toward them with measured steps. His paws were silent on the sandy path, the birds were silent in the presence of the kehok, and as soon as the augurs noticed he was moving, they fell silent too.
“Two months,” Dar repeated. “This is a gift that your temples do not deserve, after what befell my brother. What almost befell our nation. Do not make me regret it.”
Eyes on the kehok, the new head augur stepped forward and bowed. “Release your proclamation now.”
The other augurs behind her gasped.
“Secrecy is the enemy of trust,” she said. “Let all Becarans face this revelation together.”
The bearded augur objected. “But we don’t know if it’s true—”
“The people are afraid because they have seen the purest of the pure be corrupted. They do not know how they can continue to make the right choices if those who should have been incorruptible could not. At least this gives them an explanation: the old high augurs were not special. They were not better. All I ask, Your Excellence, is that you call it a theory, and together all Becarans will explore its truth.”
“Very well,” Dar said. “It will be done.”
The head augur bowed, and the others followed suit before retreating.
Raia waited for the door to shut before she sagged against the kehok. She’d held her breath for much of that conversation—just thinking of the ways in which this revelation could change Becar, most especially the lives of everyone like her who’d never wanted to be an augur but thought they’d had no choice. . . . It made her head feel as if it were whirling.
“Did that go the way you wished it to?” Dar asked the kehok.
The lion looked up at the river hawk perched above them.
Raia answered for him. “I believe it did.”
Raia and the kehok mostly kept to the background while Dar continued his day, meeting with various nobles and advisers. He heard updates on the rebuilding of the city, signed various documents, refused to sign a few others, and delegated tasks as necessary.
After a while, Raia and the kehok drifted away, wandering the paths of the aviary. She followed the sound of a man-made stream that trickled between the trees. A few statues decorated the paths.
The kehok remembered who he had been for most of the time now. Raia wasn’t sure if it was because they were in his old home or spending so much time with his brother, but walking through the aviary, she felt as though she was with a friend, not a beast she’d tamed. The spectators at the races would have been stunned to see them.
Beside her, the kehok stopped.
A river hawk was perched on top of one of the statues. It watched them for a moment, and then inclined its head before spreading its wings and disappearing into the tops of the trees.
Raia didn’t know what it meant, but she sensed peacefulness from the kehok. She hadn’t felt that from him before. Resting her hand on his back, she meandered with him back to Dar.
“One more left for today,” Dar said when they returned, “and I would like you here with me for this.” He looked into the kehok’s eyes. “You’ll tell me if I make a mistake, right?”
That sounded worrying. “Who is it?”
“The ambassador from Ranir.”
“I thought you’d imprisoned him.” As well as my parents, Raia thought.
His gaze shifted to her. “I did. But it’s time for him to deliver a message.”
Raia swallowed. “You don’t think destroying their army was message enough?”
Dar didn’t reply. Instead he straightened in his throne as the guards crossed the aviary, escorting a disheveled man in chains. He was unshaven, and he looked as if he hadn’t bathed in weeks. But his expression was peaceful—he looked, Raia thought, like a man