Swimmingly?Since I’ve never crossed paths with a Two-legs in the Amkhuti, besides Fallon and her friends, I assume Lazarus must’ve bonded with Soorya in the Sahklare.
“Your royal healer is a most wonderful teacher.”
Soorya sidles close to Lazarus, threading one of her brown arms around his. “Only because you are a wonderful student.”
How can they jest at a time like this? I look up at the sky, hoping to spot beating wings, but Cathal and Fallon don’t magically appear. Food does, though. Well, not magically. The vibrant dishes must’ve been deposited while Soorya melted crystals between her fingers.
“Enjoy your dinner, Sumaca.” Soorya nods before retreating with Lazarus beyond the hedges.
The queen guides me back to my seat. As she regains her place at the head of the table, she reaches for the spoon tucked into the wide-brimmed terracotta bowl brimming with flame-broiled beans and warm grain and serves herself. When I make no move to ladle any on my plate, too flustered to eat, she reaches over and serves me. I push my food around, creating shapes…letters. I suddenly wonder if my reading will have improved now that my oral comprehension has clicked into place.
“Everything all right, emMoti?” Priya rubs her thumb over the diamond tusks that protrude from her gold ring, a jeweled rendition of the Shabbin crest and of the crown glimmering amidst her white strands—two serpents coiled around a circlet that symbolizes the Mahananda.
Though many stares warm my cheeks, I decide to voice what I practiced earlier. Just as my lips part, Behati releases her fork, and its clatter snatches everyone’s attention.
“What is it, Taytah?” Kanti covers Behati’s hand with her own. “Was it a vision of me again? Did you see who?—”
“Kanti, quiet,” the queen snaps. “We do not interrupt visions.”
Kanti herds her hand onto her lap, chastened by the queen’s reproof.
Several minutes slip by before Behati’s eyes clear of their white veil. Nevertheless, her silence endures. I’ve come to learn that there exists many types of silences in the world of Two-legs, some that are soothing and others that are loud. The one that drapes over the palace gardens rings louder than any scream.
Behati combs aside her pale bangs. “The Mahananda has changed its terms.”
Chapter 8
Zendaya
Priya reaches for her wine glass and takes a slow swallow. “Do share the Mahananda’s new terms, Behati.”
“Do they concern my seduction mission?” Kanti asks.
I don’t miss Imogen’s eye roll. Even Erwin seems to have trouble keeping his eyeballs level.
“The Mahananda’s decided that the Crows’ immunity to obsidian will be merit-based.”
“Excuse me?” Lorcan squeezes the handle of his knife with such vigor that he manages to warp the metal. “Merit-based?”
A smirk tugs at Kanti’s lips. “Does this restore your faith in the Mahananda, sisters?” Though she directs her question to all her fellow Akwale members, she singles out one in particular with her gaze—Malka.
“There was nothing to restore, Kanti.” Though Malka’s brown cheeks don’t deepen in color, her voice seems uncharacteristically strained. Not to mention that her pink eyes flick to Priya, as though to check whether her lover believes her. “I trust the Mahananda with all my heart.”
The Shabbin Queen seems too preoccupied to challenge her bedmate. “Tell us more, Behati.”
“What I’ve gleaned from the vision is that Crows will not turn to stone immediately—or to iron, in your case, Mórrgaht. The change will happen gradually after an injury.”
Imogen’s cup teeters from her fingers and spills amber liquid across the sunstone tabletop and onto Kanti, who pushes away with a screech, as though the date wine had broiled her delicate lap.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” So many shadows lift off Lorcan’s skin that he becomes a steel blur.
“Your mate’s cured, Lore.” The queen’s pitch is so abrupt it disturbs the flames atop the long row of candles separating the monarchs. “If you do not wish to jeopardize her immunity, then I’d suggest showing the Mahananda a little gratitude.”
Thunder bangs over Shabbe with such robustness that it scatters the glowing moths and extinguishes the stars. “Did you know this was a possibility before you incited her to step into the Cauldron, Priya?” The Sky King remains all-shadow.
The queen slits her eyes. “No one forced Fallon inside.”
Lorcan’s smoke funnels back underneath his skin and then he presses away from the table. I think he’s about to stand, but he merely readjusts his posture. “If theMahananda”—for once, he uses the Shabbin term for it instead of the other non-Shabbins favor—“doesn’t make mistakes, then could your seer havemisinterpretedthe vision?”
