The beach had been washed clean by countless tides.
Aisha stood at the edge of the water with Tariq, wishing her sisters had been able to visit as planned, but the Emperor’s growing control over Avanid’s coast was making travel and trade more difficult than ever. Tariq was forced to send soldiers with every shipment to ensure deliveries landed in the right hands. But even then, around half the limestone was being intercepted by rogue ships they all knew were funded by Slevaborg.
Farrah moved through the crowd at an unhurried pace, accepting greetings. She was there for the same reason everyone else was, to pay her respects to those who had lost their lives defending Gruisea’s shores. It was a ceremony to honour the dead as they emerged from trauma and grief. The names of the lost rose and fell in low voices. Everyone present had someone to send off.
Mira tumbled into Tariq’s leg, a silky bundle of muscle and mischief bounding all over the beach.
‘Easy,’ Tariq told her, righting her with his foot and watching her trot away.
She had arrived on a ship a few months earlier, smuggled out of Avanid like a criminal, which was a fairly accurate description of the young leopard. Time had evolved her from lanky adolescent to something larger and more powerful. But her eyes were the same pale gold as the cub Aisha had discovered in that den a year earlier.
The pair watched as she dropped into an exaggerated prowl, tail flicking, then sprang at a crab.
‘She has no respect for solemn occasions,’ Aisha said.
Tariq laughed quietly and shook his head. ‘As long as she’s not hunting the children, she’s welcome.’
Torches were passed down the line, and one by one, the lanterns lit up, their paper faces coming to life. The first to be released in the shallows were carried out by the families of the wall guards. Hands pressed to hearts as the flames bobbed free. More lanterns followed. Then more.
Aisha balanced her lantern against the breeze. The paper was pale blue, ringed with a delicate ink line of waves. One of the children had made it for her. She angled the lantern towards Tariq, and he shielded the small flame as he lit it.
‘This one’s for your mother,’ he said quietly.
The sting in her eyes was instant. She breathed her mama’s name into the flame as she walked into the shallow water and set it down. When she let the lantern go, the tide took it, the sea unhurried. It rocked gently, then drifted away to join the others.
Mira joined Aisha in the shallows, sending water spraying in all directions. ‘Stop,’ Aisha scolded, ushering her towards the sand.
A tut drew Aisha’s gaze over her shoulder. She found Farrah standing a few feet away.
‘She is a true menace,’ Farrah said.
A smile broke out on Aisha’s face. ‘Come, Your Majesty. We’ll light a lantern for King Hamza.’
Farrah’s lips flattened, and she looked like she would dismiss the offer. But then she walked over to Tariq, who took another lantern from a nearby basket and held it out to her. She accepted it with a small nod, the stiffness at her shoulders easing.
Aisha returned to the sand as Tariq lit it. He looked at her over the lantern’s glow, his lips briefly turning up in appreciation.
‘Must I get wet?’ Farrah asked.
‘Yes,’ Tariq and Aisha replied at the same time.
The three of them entered the water together, the hems of their clothing soaking up water as they did so.
Farrah placed the lantern in the water and whispered, ‘For King Hamza.’
The tide lifted it and carried it away, its light joining the slow, shimmering procession across the darkening sea.
A spray of foam rushed at their ankles, and Mira bounded after it with indecent enthusiasm. Farrah turned to the leopard. ‘Come, Mira. Before you soak all the lanterns.’ She clicked her tongue, and to Aisha’s absolute surprise, the leopard followed her back to the sand.
Further along the beach, Kaidon was crouched down, helping a young girl light the wick of a lantern twice the size of her head. When it finally blazed, she clapped and looked up at him as if he had kindled the sun.
‘This beach will never be a place of death again,’ Tariq said, staring out at the water. ‘From now on, it’s a place we come to remember who we are.’
‘And who we refuse to be,’ Aisha added.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him.
They stood for a long time, watching the lanterns and listening to the whisper of names around them as the sun continued to descend.
