“The Arohassin boy said that Saayna lied to us,” Leo said. “I think she altered the second rune, and that the one the Arohassin burned in the desert is the correct form.” Arish began to argue, but Leo held up his hand to stop him. “If we plot with the new rune, maybe we’ll find the true location of the Prophet.”
I hope.
He overlaid the first sign, the feather of the Phoenix, onto the map. It stretched across Ravence like a long scar. He then took the second rune—the one left by the Arohassin, the inward storm with an arrow’s end—and planted it over the feather. It swept across the valleys and dunes, the eye of the storm settling on the capital.
Leo waved his hand, and the third symbol floated over the others. The leafless banyan tree. He placed it on top of the others, noting how its bare branches brushed the tips of the Agnee mountains while its trunk split the desert in half. Leo called for the last sign, but then he hesitated.
This rune was simple—a circle with a dot in the middle. He had never seen it before in his texts, or if he had, he overlooked it for its mundanity. Yet, it was the final piece to the puzzle.
Leo motioned for the holo. Together, he and Arish watched the fourth rune sink onto the map of Ravence. Its circumference cut perfectly through the southern canyons and western mountains, ringing the trunk of the banyan tree and the stem of the feather.
Apart, the runes looked nonsensical. Together, they created a maze that would hopefully lead to the truth.
Leo let out a deep breath and leaned forward. The maze’s path began at the southwestern corner of Ravence, deep within the Agnee Range. He followed it across Magar and the southern canyons, straight through Teranghar and up north. The path skirted around Rani, pierced straight through the deep desert like an arrow, and then curved inward to its destination.
Palace Hill.
Leo blinked. He traced the path again and again, but it always ended in the same place. His palace.
The king sank into his chair in disbelief. He looked at Arish, trying to find words, and saw that his Astra was just as speechless.
All this time, had the Prophet walked within the walls of his home?
“The Prophet,” Arish said finally, “ishere?”
Leo gripped the arms of his chair so hard it left imprints of its carved pattern on his skin. His first thought went to Elena. If this labyrinth was true, she could be the Prophet; yet his daughter could not hold fire. Then there was Ferma. But the Yumi had not controlled fire since the Burning of the Sixth Prophet.
Perhaps it was a servant then, one who prayed at the shrine within the palace. However, Majnu always kept a close watch on the servants and would report if anything was amiss.
“There—there must be some kind of explanation,” Arish stuttered. “How can we trust these runes? What if Saayna falsified the first two?”
What if her translations were false?Leo thought wildly.What if the Prophet isn’t even Ravani? Or a woman? Or—
Leo let out a slow, shaky breath to stop himself from spiraling. He had to keep a steady head if he wanted to find the Prophet.
“I have to become the man I wanted my father to be,” he said in a soft whisper.
His eyes met Arish’s. “Start a search through the palace. Look for any man or woman with strange marks. Do it quietly though. The coronation is almost upon us, and Elena must not know.” He swept his hand across his desk, and the holos dissipated in sparks of blue. “And bring Saayna here.”
“Men and women, Your Majesty? I thought the Prophet—”
“The Prophet could be anyone at this point,” he snapped. “If Saayna lied about these runes, she could have lied about the gender of the Prophet.”
Arish sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “The princess will be back in an hour or so from the Birdsong festivities. I will begin the search before she returns.”
“Good. I will await Saayna at the shrine.”
He stood and the Astra made to follow, but Leo waved him off.
“I need to be alone.”
The fire purred as he swept out of his study. Leo ordered the guards not to accompany him as he walked through his palace. The hallway was quiet. He could hear his footsteps echo and stretch across the stone walls as he made his way past the royal quarters toward the main chambers.
All this time, he had been too busy chasing runes and false words to notice the change around him. The palace was abuzz with excitement for its new queen. He heard it in the whispers of the servants as they hung garlands of golden marigolds and crimson hibiscus, as they lit incense bowls of sandalwood and washed the marble hallways with rose water. Guards wore freshly starched uniforms and lined their eyes with kohl.
Leo passed the kitchens where cooks prepared feasts of roast lamb garnished with spiced pomegranate, buttered bread stuffed with cottage cheese and crushed pistachio nuts, and steamed rice with candied almonds and cashews. Barrels of aged dessert wine and honeyed whiskey were carried and stacked. Leo’s stomach rumbled. He had long lost his appetite, but now he wouldn’t mind a plate of sweetmeats.
He turned, entering the main courtyard. The sky, for once, was unblemished and lay open for him, wide and pink. He watched servants sweep away sand left behind from last night’s storm. It was part of their dance with the desert. It raged, they acquiesced. They built, and the desert watched.
