Page 66 of Eyes of Kings

Galipei looks to his hands. He says, “The godling of qi, the godling of control, and the godling of greed.”

Calla’s entire body seizes.

“The three brides of the heavens,” Galipei goes on before Calla has the chance to reply. “That’s the story Otta told when she gave me the sigil.”

Calla was staring at the mural only earlier in the hour. The king of the heavens and his three brides of balance, sustaining his throne. Qi. Control. Greed.

“She is powerful enough to give you a tough fight, even if you defeat August,” Galipei says. “What good is defecting to you if she’s the one who wins?”

“Don’t you trust that I can defeat her in battle?” Calla asks.

“No.”

Then Calla is wasting her time. Another thud from the door. Anton’s final warning. She turns to go.

“I need your promise that you will do everything in your power to kill Otta before you quell August’s forces,” Galipei calls after her. “Don’t give her the room to turn on him.”

Calla halts in her step. She considers the appeal. There is something peculiar about this request. Something that tells her he would covet the promise only if he knows that she is capable of meeting it.

“Galipei,” she says, “I’m getting the sense that you know more than you’re letting on.”

She turns over her shoulder. Galipei stares ahead starkly. He gestures for her to come closer. Back to the bars, where she is within reach. In an act of trust,Calla inches toward him again. Leans in, her hair twining against the latch and into the cell.

“If you want to get rid of her,” Galipei says, “I know one sigil she doesn’t have. I read about it in the Dovetail letters—the calling card for the king of the heavens. It’s at the old Makusa manor in Kelitu.”

CHAPTER 30

Under the cover of night, the girl flees for her life.

She has survived this long in Ximili Province without incident. She was one of the first to arrive—she had thought that would mean there would be no record of her presence. Dry, red central Ximili, where villages dot the valley between two mountains. Her shoes are covered in dust. She makes a final sprint to reach the outpost, biting on her tongue to tamp down her breathing.

The valley settles. Night’s shadows work fast to cover her body behind the signage. It is nothing more than varnished wood.

The sign shatters, bursting into wooden splinters. The girl shrieks, then moves to flee again, searching around desperately for new cover. There is so little life here. When she first arrived, the borders of Talin sat closer to Ximili, and there was constant activity between the settlements. The kingdom ended nearby, in the sand valleys beyond Actia, rather than at the borderlands, marked by the snow.

She should have done more back then. Joined the rebellions cropping up to keep Rincun and Youlia independent. She thought herself useless. Melded with the form of a child because she had chosen to invade a vessel as close to her true form as possible. She mourned that she would never return to her heavenly state. That the body disintegrated the moment she exited it on the earthly plane. That was how all the gods fled the heavens. Devouring the qi of the first form they meldedwith, and jumping with that qi thereafter. She could jump again, so long as she was prepared for her eyes to carry over their teal-green color, but she never had. No one noticed she didn’t age, in any case. She was content to continue her simple life.

Look at her now, fleeing pursuit. Her foot slips. She stumbles when she turns.

“You know who I am. You know what I seek.”

The voice shudders through the night. It follows the girl when she shoves into a narrow passage, running for the barracks. Only days ago, the palace had droves of soldiers stationed here, overseeing the mines that Ximili Province operates. The girl often visited, bearing gifts from the yamen. If there ever was a whisper about her afterward, it was to hope she was doing well after the passing of her mother. If asked when her mother had passed, the mortals were all somewhat confused, unable to recall.

The girl turns. Dead end. The walls climb too high. The barracks are all empty, the soldiers gone.

A bolt of light flashes in front of her. She stumbles to a halt.

“Please,” the girl whispers, whirling around.

“Oh,please. I didn’t think you lot knew what that word meant.”

“I am not powerful,” the girl rasps. “My memories have slipped to such severity I can hardly recall my former designation. I am not who you want.”

The woman who walks into the barracks is dressed in palace silks. Long, airy black hair and white skin, the contrast made severe by the torchlight she holds in her hands to show the way. Though the girl does not recognize her face, she is revolted by her qi. It is unnatural. Aberrant. The queen reborn, who drew such power upon the earth that it poisoned the heavens.

Sinoa Tuoleimi seems to return her disgust, her lip curling when she steps closer. She has marked herself with the language of the gods. Violated the former sanctity they used to possess, each sigil belonging only to those who called upon their patrons. Now she will call upon any qi that the sigils can summon forth, because there is no one left in the heavens delineating anymore.

“Still, you think yourself too good for us,” Sinoa says. “Still, you turn your backs on all those who pray to you.”