was certain she was never going to see again, much less train.
By the end of the day, all the parents of her students had come to her, expressed their concern, listened to her apologies, and then politely withdrawn their children. One went as far as to say that they should have known better than to expect more from a lesser Becaran. As her last student left, she told herself, You did this. In one misguided dream of glory, you lost them all.
Avoiding the other trainers and their students, Tamra retreated to the stalls. She occupied herself with checking the locks on the doors and shackles. She didn’t want to hear any snide comments or even accept any sympathy. Says something about my life that I’m more comfortable being with monsters, she thought. She patted one of the kehoks on her broad neck. The monster swung her golden eyes toward Tamra and then bared three rows of teeth and lunged forward to snap at her hand. Tamra was quick enough to avoid losing any fingers.
“Yeah, I feel the same way,” she told the kehok, who was glaring at Tamra balefully. Drool dribbled from the kehok’s jaws. “Ugh, people are the worst, right? Myself included. Good thing there’s no chance I’ll be reborn as one.” It had been years since she’d paid for an official reading, but she had no illusions about the state of her soul. Being reborn as human, even as a lesser Becaran, required a kind of balance that most did not have. There was no shame in that. Unless you were destined to be a slug.
Or a kehok.
She should never have let those children try to race. Closing her eyes, she let the guilt swamp her. They trusted me. And I failed them.
She prayed to her ancestors and theirs that they healed quickly. Even if she never saw them again. Even if she never had another student. Even if their parents did take the revenge they’d promised and had her barred from the track. She’d wanted more than those kids could give, and that hadn’t been fair to them. She’d pushed fish to fly like birds, and she should have known better.
Only when she was certain that the grounds were deserted did she begin the trudge home. The desert wind had shifted—the evening wind coming from the east, with a bite of chill. Stars were beginning to poke through the graying sky, and she took comfort in the familiar constellations: the Crocodile, the Emperor’s Robe, and the Lady with the Sword. The lady’s sword was ascendant this time of year, and the three stars that made the blade shone brighter than anything else in the sky. She used to tell her daughter, Shalla, the story of the Lady with the Sword, who saved an emperor from an army of assassins, suffered a mortal wound, and was reborn as a constellation.
Oh, Shalla, what am I going to do?
She had until the next augur payment to figure it out.
Set apart from the city, the training grounds and their practice racetrack were two miles from the closest nest of houses, far enough away to warrant their own river dock but close enough that the road between was well-worn, hardened sand. Beside the road was the mighty Aur River, black without the sun shining on it. Ahead, Tamra saw the soft amber glow from the tightly packed clusters of houses on the northern bank, all with the traditional white walls and blue-tile roofs. On the other side of the river, the southern bank, the palaces of the wealthy were lit with blue-glass lanterns, bathing their white walls in faux moonlight.
You couldn’t tell there had been another riot there yesterday.
According to the other trainers, who loved to gossip, a group of textile workers had gone unpaid, and the business owners had blamed the emperor-to-be for unsigned contracts. Last week it had been dockworkers. Thankfully, both times the augurs had been on hand to help the city guard calm everyone down before the riot got out of control. But the turmoil was only going to get worse until Becar had an actual emperor again. Fun times.
At least tonight seemed peaceful. The night herons were calling to one another, a low croon so soothing that it unknotted the muscles in Tamra’s neck and shoulders. She loved her home at night: the sweetness of the cool air, the serenity of the stars, and the knowledge that she’d be able to see her daughter in the brief