Mama.The one I turn to when all else fails. My teacher. My light. My truth.
Sweet sands, I miss her. She would have known exactly what to do and how to save everyone. She would have made different choices, better ones than mine, and no one would be hurt or dead. I’m just her daughter wearing too-big shoes, trying and failing miserably to fill them. I think back to the times we’d sat on my bed, staring at the painting of the palace and making up our stories.
She had lived here in Kaldari, too, with my father. But they had left. They hadrun. I have no doubt they had fled for their lives... formylife. And Amma had said that she’d protected me until her last breath.How?
Mastery comes from a place of wisdom, of enduring love,she had said.
“Help me, Mama,” I whisper.
With a cleansing breath, I focus on my mother and every memory I can remember, even the earliest ones tucked away in the deepest corners of my heart. Birthdays, festivals, hurts, nighttime rituals, dinners, lost teeth, skinned knees, singing, dancing, crying, hammering swords even though she’d had no idea what she was doing—she did it because I loved it.
Because she lovedme.
Everything she’d ever done was out of love.
As I sink into that knowledge, I sense an inner serenity start to spread, and I feel the warmth, saturating my pores and flickeringalong my skin in feathery ripples. My magic is not like before, hot and wild and intense; it’s thick and soothing like a well-worn blanket on a cool night. An extension of me, of my soul.
Let go, daughter mine.
Without hesitation, I do. And I feel myself lift, floatingoutof my body. Stunned, I push outward, traveling on incandescent particles of light until my spirit has moved beyond the confines of flesh and bone, connected to my mortal shell by tendrils of starlit magic.
Energized, I soar farther, amazed that my consciousness goes with me, and slip past the walls of my prison. There aren’t six guards as I’d thought. At least double that number stand in neat rows on vigilant alert. For a moment, I wonder if they can see me, but of course they can’t. I don’t have a physical form. I glance over my shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of wings. Holy mother of sandstorms! They’re not made of feathers but curling licks of bright rose-white stardust. The curls of iridescent multicolored tailfeathers shine in my peripherals.
My simurgh is beautiful!
The worry that the farther I go the weaker I will get gnaws at me briefly, but my magic doesn’t wane. It strengthens with every beat of my heart. Grinning with delight, I fly, coasting the tides of light within the palace like an invisible rider. Slowing, I recognize a voice coming from one of the nearby chambers—it sounds like the queen—and I follow it. It’s the same bedroom I’d been in two days ago during the engagement ceremony, and Javed is pacing before the fireplace, arguing with his mother, his face sullen.
“What if she doesn’t go through with the wedding?” he whines.
She grabs his chin with her thumb and forefinger, and I flinch. Her touch is not kind, but Javed takes it like a docile lamb. “Youare my son. The king. Make her.”
“How?” he asks. I’m mystified by the wheedling sounds leaving his mouth. “She has magic. Akasha flowing in her blood.”
“And you have her family for leverage.” The queen lowers her voiceto a hiss. “Listen to me, son, this is your only chance. This is what we have been planning from the minute that girl was born and her birth chart written. You are destined to be a god, and she is the key to your immortality. This is your vertex—your fucking destiny.” She rakes her son with a vicious look that makes him cower. “You must consummate the marriage immediately following the ceremony. The blood moon is in alignment above Kaldari. Tonight is the night. Fero will come for her, and you will lay your claim and take what is yours. Donotfail us.”
His shoulders square. “I won’t, Mother.”
“You’ll cut out her heart,” she says.
“Yes.”
A shiver courses through me at her words. I watch as the queen turns to stare directly at me and I recoil in silent horror. Even outside of my body, I can feel my phantom heartbeat echoing the mounting heart rate of my physical self.
Fuck, can she see me?
Eyes fixed like a serpent’s, she approaches, but when she lifts a hand to smooth a tendril of hair into place, I realize with a relieved breath that she’s looking into the mirror behind me. She’s so close that I can see the dark veins twining beneath her skin and the dull red glow in her eyes that I imagine must be reflected firelight. I lurch backward. Even though I have little to fear in this spectral form, every instinct inside is screaming at me to run.
Trembling, I close my eyes and reenter the hallway. It won’t be long before someone comes for me—the mortal me imprisoned in my room. Maybe I can find Amma before I have to go back, see if she’s safe. But how?
Akasha connects all living things...
I don’t know where the lilting female voice comes from, but it sounds like the creature that’s one with me.
I immerse myself into the well of my magic, feeling the coolnessenvelop me in a silken cocoon. This isn’t like flying around—finding a specific soul is more intentional. It requires concentration, and mine is scattered at best after what I just witnessed. I close my eyes and feel, seeking the ebb and flow of akasha. It’s so thin here, but I can sense the underlying magnetic tether that connects all the souls in the palace within the light.
Amma,I think, and I feel the link brighten almost instantly.
Her soul is a beacon.
