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“Mother Div was imprisoned, right? But who did the imprisoning? You say she’s a cleric. Powerful in magic. Not just anyone could imprison her.”
Perhaps the child had a point. Aiz had grown to respect his cleverness.He sees what others do not.
“Tell me more about them, then.” Aiz snuck Tregan a lump of sugar before reaching for the curry comb. “These Duranis. You said they have an order—where do they live?”
“The stories don’t say, but there’s an entire area north of Nur where Zaldar Shan refuses to go because rumor says that’s where the Duranis dwell. Even Aba stays close to the wagons when we’re there. And Ama hates that part of the desert.”
He launched into a tale then, one that culminated in the Durani enticing an unsuspecting child to a castle in the desert with the intent of feasting upon his flesh.
“Why is it always a woman doing the feasting?” Aiz scratched Tregan between the ears when the mare nudged her. “I’ve never heard of a male witch who gnaws on legbones.”
“Kehannis are usually women, so Duranis must be, too. And it’s not just a story. One of my friends met a Durani once.” Ruh dropped his voice and Aiz strained to hear him over the wind. “From Tribe Nur. Do you know what he said?”
Aiz lowered her voice too, getting into the spirit of the story. “What did he say?”
“He said he was lured to the desert by this Durani. The archer constellation led them to the pinnacles in the desert. There, they found a hole in the desert that led to the sky.”
“How can a hole in the ground lead to the sky?”
“I don’t know, that’s what he said. The Durani took him there, but she was so tired after the journey that she fell asleep. He was small in the hole she’d put him in, still as—”
The boy paused, his pale gaze shooting directly toward the desert.
“Ruh?”
A moment later, he raced into the sands.
Aiz dropped the curry comb, heart clutching in fear. There were coyotesout here, bandits—even wraiths. Quil pointed one out a week ago, drifting near their camp until Elias took its head off. Its otherworldly shriek echoed in Aiz’s ears for hours after. There were even jinn, whose ability to manipulate thoughts, fire, stone, and blood made Aiz uneasy. Ruh wasn’t safe alone, and when Aiz called his name again, her voice cracked in panic.
A thump out in the darkness, one body crashing into another. A raspy voice spoke.
“Have some decorum, boy. Remember my station, for skies’ sake.”
Beware, child, Mother Div whispered to Aiz.This is a creature of great power. Bury your magic. Speak little.
Moments later, a woman stepped out of the dark, her hand in Ruh’s. Her white hair fell in thick waves to her shoulders, and she wore an embroidered tunic and loose pants in forest colors—traditional Scholar garb. The scars that clawed across her face made it difficult to make out any of her features beyond her dark, deep-set eyes.
As the woman approached the fire, every member of the Tribe stopped what they were doing, inclined their heads as one, hands clasped together. All but Karinna, Zuriya, and Sufiyan, who enveloped the old woman in a tumultuous hug.
Laia and Elias’s children spoke at once to her, Ruh telling her of the puzzle box the Empress had sent, Karinna of a backflip she’d mastered, and Zuriya of her advancement in the Tribe’s holy Mysteries. Even Sufiyan, more aloof at sixteen, gave the woman a tight hug. “You have time to lose a shooting contest with your favorite grandchild, Nan?”
His grandmother patted his cheek, gaze filled with affection. “Of course, my love,” she said. “Though I’m only going to embarrass you again.”
The woman didn’t look at Aiz—she didn’t have to. Though she kissed her grandchildren and laughed at their jokes, Aiz could sense her regard. It reminded her, in a way, of Elias, but more subtle, as ifshe were a lioness circling Aiz at a distance, nothing but a pair of cold eyes in the dark.
The girl felt something featherlight against her mind, like a whisper from across a room.
“Bani al-Mauth.” Laia addressed the woman formally in Sadhese before embracing her. “Mother. Join our fire. Are you hungry?”
“No food, daughter.”
Aiz looked down to hide her surprise.Thiswas the woman who was almost as holy to the Tribes as Mother Div was to the Kegari? Aiz had expected someone…taller.
Ruh had told Aiz of his grandmother, the Bani al-Mauth: Chosen of Death. She lived in the Forest of Dusk, far to the east, and guided troubled ghosts to the afterlife. She took the pain and misery of the spirits and cast it into a place Ruh called the Sea of Suffering.
Do you mean Kegar?Aiz had chuckled darkly to herself, but didn’t make the joke with Ruh. He was a child, after all.
According to Ruh, the ghosts came from all over—even Ankana. The Kegari had simple death rituals. A shroud, a prayer.May Mother Div welcome you to the Fount.Aiz wondered if the Bani al-Mauth had met a Kegari ghost. She had a story prepared in case.
