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Ryn smirked and rubbed her eyes, rolling her head to face Heva. “The whole kingdom, Heva? You think we battled the entire B’rei Mira army in just a few weeks? The war went on for almost half a year before this, and our army didn’t even face a tenth of the B’rei Mira army in that time.”

Heva’s eyelashes fluttered over an eye roll. A moan escaped, and she dragged her hands down her dirty cheeks. “I want to eat bread and jam. And dry socks.”

Faro fell onto the bench beside her and slid a few bowls of rice onto the table with a clatter. He handed out flat spoons next. “You want to eat dry socks?” When Heva scowled at him, he flashed her a crooked-tooth smile.

“What a dull sense of humour you have, Faro.” Heva grabbed a spoon and stabbed it into a bowl, but she didn’t eat. She stared at the white grains of rice, and Ryn wondered if she’d fallen asleep with her eyes open.

Faro snorted a laugh. “My sense of humour is what keeps us all going. You’d miss my wonderful quips if I stopped making jokes.”

Suddenly Heva began shovelling food into her mouth, glaring at Faro all the while.

Bastone appeared at the table, leathers glistening with rainwater. “You invited the priestesses?!” Heva spat her rice. “Are you crazy, Estheryn?” Bastone pointed back toward the tent flap where Ryn caught a glimpse of pink and emerald green dresses on the other side. She sprang to her feet. “Do you want these delicate ministry maidens to die out here?” Bastone reached past Faro for a bowl with one hand and pointed at Ryn with the other. “Send them home. They can do nothing for us.”

“What did you just say?” Heva banged on her chest with a fist as she choked through her speech. “Did you say priestesses…” Her face whitened when the flap moved and Geovani stepped into the feasting tent, her green dress ruffling at her ankles, her spiralling white hair all tucked into a braid. She smiled, and something warmed in Ryn’s chest when their eyes locked.

“I brought them to pray. Don’t be mad, Heva.” Ryn stole a glance up at the menacing black cloud through the slit in the ceiling.

She rounded the table, but her arm was grabbed, a thumb ring cooling her wrist. Heva glanced up at her with a hard face, black hair falling into her wide-open eyes. “Ryn, I’m with Bastone. They shouldn’t be here… The frontlines are no place for—”

“Well, look what the desert spit out.” Seeda’s voice sailed across the tent. The priestess released a grunt as she folded her arms and crushed her pink dress sleeves. She looked Heva up and down as a dozen girls in pink filed into the feasting tent behind her. “By the Divinities, Heva, you get uglier every time I see you. How do you manage to do that? It must be a miracle of the God Original.”

Heva’s grip slipped off Ryn’s arm, her lips pinching together as she slowly turned in her chair. Soldiers all around the tables looked at Heva in surprise, one or two hiding grins behind their fists or rice spoons. “Never mind.” Heva’s tight, quiet words sailed up to Ryn. “I want Seeda to see me fight just once.”

The dunes were a deep orange-brown beneath the constant cloak of shadow. Ryn’s armour sat heavy on her chest as she peered into the desert from a rock hill. She’d ordered everyone to arm themselves when she saw faint plumes of dust lifting on the horizon earlier than normal. She could just see them now—the shimmering brass and scarlet in the sea of sand that went on for miles. Another wave. Another fight.

When would Alecsander grow tired of this? When would he see that El would not let him pass while she stood here?

“I’d leave before the fighting begins, but I don’t think running away has ever been the answer for me. Besides, I’m dying to see you in action with my own old eyes, Adassah.” Geovani’s voice rose above the whistle of rising wind. The storm spat red leaves over the sand, preparing the way for another B’rei Mira attack. Thick, grotesque magic pulled Ryn’s skin tight, and a buzz filled her stomach like an insect had found its way in there.

“How should I deal with this cloud?” she asked Geovani. “I can’t break it. I don’t know why.”

Geovani appeared at her side, a green silk coat complimenting her High Priestess dress, her hair in a tight bun and her bright eyes fixed on the rising dust at the horizon.

“I don’t think you should deal with it at all. I think you should let El deal with it. Just do whatever he says next, and eventually you’ll find yourself on the other side of this.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms with a shiver. Ryn’s mouth twisted to the side, and she fiddled with the handle of her sheathed sword as the quiet chattering of Geovani’s teeth lifted between them. “If you’re going to take down a god like the Spirit of Death, Adassah, you must do it with life,” she added. “Be a life-bringer. Bear life in the face of death.”

Bear life? Something turned in Ryn’s stomach, and her cheeks warmed. She took in a breath and let it seep out as she chewed on her lip. “You’re not telling me to get pregnant, are you—”

Geovani’s raspy laugh roared over the dunes. “No. Someday you’ll be with child, Adassah, but not now.” A pelt of lightning flashed across the sky, and the priestess glanced up at it. Ryn wasn’t sure if she should tell Geovani she didn’t ever plan to take a husband or have children. Even thinking about marrying some strange man didn’t feel right when…

Ryn swallowed, shaking the image of Xerxes from her mind. The last time she was near him he’d saved her from a Vafat in the palace, and even then, she hadn’t actually seen him. She brushed her fingers along her cheek where she’d leaned against Xerxes’s shoulder in that moment, had smelled the lantern oil on him. Then she cleared her throat and folded her arms.

She didn’t even know if Xerxes was alive. In fact, there were moments Ryn wondered what she was still fighting for if Xerxes was dead. She would have failed Per-Siana if he was gone.

The pang left her chest when Geovani spoke again. “El’s perfect spirit, the Spirit of Unconditional Love that accepts you as you are if you surrender to Him—that’s what gives life. The breath of El; the same breath that brought both of us into creation.” She raised a bent finger and pointed across the desert to the B’rei Mira army marching in. “Did you know some of those fools actually cut off their body parts because their evil gods tell them they aren’t right the way they are? Can you believe that? See if I’m wrong—check them for missing toes or fingers when they come.” She jutted her chin toward the warriors, and Ryn thought about the missing fingers she’d seen on bodies during the war. Geovani’s sigh was lost to a clap of thunder. “I suppose when voices confuse someone about their identity long enough, the person begins to wonder if they were made wrong. It’s a gutless, ruthless tactic of the gods, you know. Convince the person they’re the problem, not the gods whispering these destructive lies into their ears. I say, if we simply stand upon the truth and start casting those demons out, we might realize we were made exactly how we were meant to be for a purpose. And the last thing a false god wants is for a person to discover their true purpose, because if they do, they might start walking in it.” She glanced over at Ryn, her gaze flickering down the gold armour right to her heeled greaves. “And all of Per-Siana has now seen what happens when someone starts walking in their purpose,” she added with a murmur and a muted smirk.

Ryn’s fingers fell to her sword handle as Geovani’s quiet words settled in. “I missed you,” she admitted. “I missed visiting the First Temple, too. Back in prison, I thought I’d never see you or the temple again.”

Just the howling gales spoke for a moment. A white strand of Geovani’s hair broke loose, flittering over her shoulders as she hugged her arms to herself. “We missed you, too. We spoke of you often. Especially your cousin.” She let out a closed-mouth chuckle. “He’s furious, you know, that I didn’t let him come here. But I didn’t think you needed the distraction. And trust me—he has a long way to go. He would be a distraction in his state.”

Ryn huffed a laugh and dug her toe into the sand. “I haven’t thought about Kai in weeks.” In prison, she’d thought of him every morning. Now, there was so much going on that she hadn’t thought of anything or anyone apart from the single enemy in front of her at all hours of the day. A prickle of guilt moved in.

“The tides are changing, Adassah,” Geovani finally said. “It’s why I answered your call to come even though it puts my priestesses at risk. Something is shifting again.”

Ryn nodded. “I hope so. I’ve been feeling stuck here,” she said. “There’s been no breakthrough, and I have no way to dissolve the cloud.”

“But the enemy isn’t getting through, either.” Wrinkles appeared when Geovani smiled again. “Keep praying. Because there are forces around you trying to get you to stop praying. Stay focused.” The old woman patted Ryn on her shoulder plate as she turned to leave, stepping carefully on the wobbly stones.

A smirk crossed Ryn’s mouth. “At least you weren’t telling me to have a child.”