Page 57 of Children of Anguish and Anarchy

Baldyr’s plans hang over my head as we exit the passageway and find ourselves on a stone dock. Glowing waters stretch before us, branching out in a dozen different directions. Giant lily pads float down anunderground canal, riding the steady current. At the edge of the docks, Tzain stands with Amari. I gasp at the sight.

“Tzain!” I break free of the girls in silk, running straight into my brother’s arms. I pull back to examine the bruises from where the warrior struck him before. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He pushes my hands away. “What’s going on? What did that woman say?”

I do my best to recall all the words of Yéva’s prophecy. I show them the growing medallion. I explain what it’s done to me.

“He’s after power,” I say. “The might that would rival a god. The medallion’s preparing me for his harvest. If he gets Mae’e, too…”

My voice trails off as Yéva passes by the three of us on a woven stretcher. Her russet skin has lost all its color. Her breaths escape in haggard spurts. A wave of guilt hits as the girls in silk set her down on a lily pad. Though the mystic stood tall before, calling forth the prophecy has ravaged her form.

Mae’e emerges from the tunnels. She moves to Yéva’s side, kneeling by the water.

“Nafre.” Mae’e whispers the blessing. She kisses Yéva’s hands. The girls in silk depart, leading Yéva down one of the canals.

The moment Yéva leaves, Köa enters the underground tunnels. The emperor follows behind him, surrounded by warriors and a legion of vineweavers. Their presence adds a charge in the air. I tense as they near.

“Bind her hands.” Köa points to me. “Immediately.”

As the vineweavers move, Mae’e rises to her feet. She steps in front of me.

“Mae’e—” the emperor starts.

“You will do no such thing!” Mae’e replies.

“You heard what Yéva said,” Köa pushes. “The danger we risk by letting outsiders in—”

“This girl is not our enemy!” Mae’e turns to me, and I’m hypnotized byher diamond gaze. A flattened vine wraps tight around her hand, covering the gash from the blade she grabbed to keep me alive.

“They are our allies.” Mae’e extends her injured hand to me, and I take it. “Allies in great pain. They must be taken to my temples. Please, Emperor Jörah, allow me to restore them.”

I dare to glance at Emperor Jörah. He twists the thick gold ring on his pointer finger. It’s hard to read the lines in his face. The glowing rivers lap in his silence as he decides our fate.

“The girls can go,” he declares. Mae’e’s shoulders slump in relief. She motions to the lily pads, preparing to leave.

“What about my brother?” I ask. “Where will he be?”

The emperor looks at Tzain, considering his place. He nods to his warriors.

“He will reside with Köa and the Lâminas.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

TZAIN

THELÂMINAS.

Emperor Jörah’s personal guard. Their very steps thunder in unison. I feel like a prisoner as I march among them.

The Lâminas occupy the quartet of temples surrounding the imperial palace. Each temple sports the symbol of an ivory barong. The leaf-shaped blade matches the ones inked onto every Lâmina’s arm.

Warriors stand at attention as Köa approaches the stone gate. At the sight of me, they bristle. One eyes the curved blade inked into his skin. But when Köa gives the order, they have no choice but to open the gate and let me in.

Beyond the gate, young boys train in painted squares. The temples ring with the sounds of their matches. Unlike the graduated warriors, each trainee sports a shaved head and plain brown pants. No weapons mark their brown skin.

I stare as Köa marches me through. The boys spar with no regard, faces scrunched and teeth bared. Bones break. Blood spills. But no matter what, the boys don’t stop.

They fight to kill.

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