He placed his hand on my shoulder, and I could feel the slight tremble. “This is important, Amunet. I’ll explain later.”
I should’ve been afraid. Or at the least, cautious. But he was my father. I trusted him. Of course I did. So I obediently threw back my sheets and slid out of bed, clutching my ratty crocodile doll to my chest.
Father offered me his hand, and I took it.
The hallway was deserted. Even at a mere six years old, I knew that was strange. There were always guards and servants around. But not that night. That night, I could hardly even hear the rushing sound of the Lotus River. As if all of Ashorah had gone silent.
“You remember your lessons about the Seven Monarchs?” Fatherasked me. His palm was sweaty against mine. Nothing strange about that—this was Ashorah. Everyone was sweaty all the time.
I nodded.
“Do you remember what you learned about the Gods-Chosen?”
“When things get really bad, the gods send their children to help us,” I recited, nose curling as dirt and sand stuck to the pads of my bare feet. “They are called the Gods-Chosen. There have been six Gods-Chosens so far, but a seventh is coming soon. Shaya’s child. A gift he gave to you after he saved you in the Wastelands.”
“Very good, little one. That’s very… good.” His voice hitched.
I looked up at him. The moonlight reflected the line of wetness running down his left cheek, a river of silver. My brows drew together. That wasn’t sweat. “Baba, are you crying?”
He pulled me through another door, into his bedroom suite. There were no guards stationed there, either. That wasn’t just strange. That waswrong.
Suddenly, where there had been no fear before now surged forth a heaping dose of it. My heart thundered, and I crushed the crocodile doll to my small chest. “Baba?”
My father paused in the parlor outside his sleeping chamber and crouched so he was eye level with me. His green eyes shone brighter, outlined in more silvery tears. The terror intensified in my veins, as if burning oil had replaced my blood. Fathers weren’t supposed to cry.
He took my shoulders in his hands and looked me straight in the eye. “Listen to me carefully, Amunet.Youare a Gods-Chosen.”
A bit of excitement wound through my fear. Gods-Chosens had magic. If I was a Gods-Chosen, that meantIwould get to play with magic.
But before the giddiness could really take root, he continued, “This is my fault. I’m sorry, little one. I thought there was more time, that I could figure something else out, but the river is drying up again, and I—” He cut himself off abruptly, heaving a sharp breath.Again he tried to smile, but it wobbled as another rivulet fell down his cheek. “I need you to be brave, all right?”
My brows scrunched together as I nodded.
He took my hand again and led me to the large balcony outside his room. All expertly chiseled stone, made to look like a courtyard instead of merely a balcony, with clipped and sculpted topiaries. But none of that was new to me. I barely spared it a glance.
The smell registered before the image. Deep and metallic. Sticky beneath my bare feet.
Blood.
The crocodile fell out of my hands, landed in the blood with a dull, wet splat.
Bodies were piled high, at least five deep. Arms and legs stuck out of the pile awkwardly, twisting wrong. As if they’d been tossed there. And their faces… gods, their faces. All of them wrenched in unending screams, frozen in a state of abject terror.
A sob climbed up my throat. “Baba—”
“Sacrifices are necessary to reach him. You know that. But I needed a bigger one for this. Now, I need you to repeat after me, Amunet.” My father stood behind me, gripping my shoulders hard enough to make me wince. “I, Amunet Khada, offer up this gift to Shaya…”
I looked up at him. From this angle, he looked nothing like the father I knew. Looming over me. Face stoic and severe. Scary. “I don’t want to—”
“Say it.”His fingers tightened on my shoulders.
My eyes burned as I repeated, “I, Amunet Khada, offer up this gift to Shaya…”
“And pledge myself as your servant.”
“Please, Baba—ah!” He shoved me a step forward, my foot splashing the blood up my shin. Tears seared my cheeks. “And pledge myself as your servant.”
“I accept you into my mind, my body, my soul…”
