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Ryn closed her mouth as the tip of Prince Mansour’s dagger pressed harder against her throat.

“Don’t you know that King Alecsander cannot be defeated? Haven’t you realized by now that he’s a god?” She laughed with a shrieking sound.

“A mortal cannot be a god,” Ryn whispered.

“He’s three parts; the man, the god, the serpent. That’s why he’ll keep coming back. Because you cannot defeat all three, and they’re interchangeable. The god gives the man power through the tree, the man gives the god a body, the serpent takes blood sacrifices to water the tree, and the god and man protect the serpent.” She tilted the dagger on an angle, fingers tightening around the handle.

“Sarai.”

A gust of warmth came against Ryn’s back, calming her pebbled skin. She swallowed, her throat expanding against the dagger’s blade. “Is your name Sarai?”

Sigilene’s red lips parted, eyes narrowing. “Where did you hear that name?!” she demanded. The blade pressed in and Ryn choked on a cough. But her bound hands came up, and she grabbed Sigilene’s hands, wrapping the girl’s fingers in hers. Sigilene tried to tear away, but Ryn held on with every ounce of strength she had left as she dragged her tired gaze up and locked eyes with Sigilene’s black ones.

“No one should have to cut off their body parts to discover their identity when El made them beautifully and wonderfully—and on purpose,” Ryn said, and Sigilene’s snarl snapped through the cell, but her grip loosened on the dagger, and the corner of her eye twitched. Ryn looked into those eyes, those black abysses where a whole history flooded into Ryn’s vision. She saw a little girl with brown hair and light green eyes.

“You’re younger than you look, aren’t you?” Ryn asked, and Sigilene tried to pull away again, growling, but Ryn held on. “That paint on your face hides your age.” She climbed her fingers further over Sigilene’s and gripped tighter. “And Sigilene isn’t your real name—that’s the name they gave you when they took you from your home and brought you to the palace. They forced you to leave the other name behind, along with everything else; your parents, your home, your friends. You never actually wanted to come to the palace, did you?”

Sigilene’s shoulders began to tremble, the whites of her eyes pinking at the corners. “Stop this,” she demanded. She tried turning the dagger in her fingers, but it slipped and smashed over the stones, the blade breaking off the handle, the gem coming free and bouncing over the floor. She blinked at it in dismay.

Ryn saw a young girl wandering through a big, frightening palace alongside a little boy with black hair and golden eyes. It wasn’t Mansour though, Ryn realized. “Emad was your only friend here,” she whispered, and Sigilene’s gaze tore back, wide now. “But you left him because he wasn’t strong enough to protect you from the horrors. I think you regret it though—for leaving him alone when he was so scared back then. I think you regretted it all these years as you’ve watched him suffer.”

“Stop this!” Sigilene’s lips quivered. A thick tear broke loose and spilled down her cheek, washing away a single line of thick white face paint. “I’m here to kill you, Commander Adassah! To get revenge for the queendom you stole from me!”

Ryn shook her head. “No, you aren’t.” Heat formed behind Ryn’s eyes as she watched the little girl tremble after she joined the Sphynx Elite and they cut off her fingers. The brave face she had to have, because speaking up against such bodily mutilation was considered an offence and hateful to those who’d chosen to do it. Ryn shuddered an inhale as her tears broke loose, like she was living through the trauma of being sick for days after the cutting, as she felt how Sarai regretted it as soon as she’d lost part of her body, and how even after she’d sacrificed so much, she’d still always felt rejected anyway. How Sarai’s name was changed. How she went after the older Prince because he was ruthless and could protect her better, how she only wanted to be Queen to save herself from the monsters here who’d dragged her from her home. How she knew deep down that Prince Mansour was never going to pick her, but she’d tried anyway.

“Let it go, Sarai,” Ryn whispered. “You’re not one of them. You don’t have to do what they say anymore.” She squeezed Sigilene’s fingers so tight, the girl yelped. “Those gods abused you. Alecsander abused you. He’s the one who embraced the evils and subjected his kingdom to it—including all the children. He’s the one forcing these wicked practices and disguising it as good. But evil is never good—not for your body, not for your soul. And I think you’ve been living in torment for a long time because of it.” Sigilene sobbed, her knees buckling, and Ryn was forced to drop with her. “And I don’t think Alecsander or his gods would care if you told them you were hurting. I don’t think he’d even let you leave alive if you tried to walk away from his gods and their ideologies.”

Sigilene’s cries echoed around the cell, tears washing her cheeks, the bronze glyphs at her throat dimming. “Please… stop.” She bit her claret lip. “I don’t know how you know, but I need you to stop this.” She choked on her breaths. “You’re going to get me killed.”

“My God sees you,” Ryn said. “The God Original who made you perfect the way you were.”

Sigilene shook her head, white hair fluttering. “I don’t know this god.”

“But he knows you. He’s the one who just gave me a glimpse into your life. Because he saw it all. And he’s here now. Do you want to meet him?”

Sigilene’s black eyes drew up in horror. But she didn’t retract. She didn’t say no either. And so, Ryn handed it over to El as his warmth ran down her arms and into her fingers over Sigilene’s. Sigilene shrieked, staring down at their interlocked hands. Ryn could feel things shifting around.

Suddenly, Sigilene tore her hands away, her chest rising and falling with loud breaths as she lifted them. As she looked at her fingers.

All her fingers. Four fingers, one thumb on each hand.

She climbed to her feet, nearly stumbling off balance as she kept her stare on her hands. “This can’t be real! How…” She shook her head. And she turned to leave, kicking the hem of her dress as she strode for the door, arms trembling, hands shaking. “What if they see?”

“Sarai,” Ryn said, and Sigilene jerked to a halt at the door, whirled back to Ryn with her hands still in the air, her petrified eyes round. Ryn’s skin tightened as she thought of Alecsander in Per-Siana, destroying everything. With her not there to stop him. “You could leave the door unlocked when you go.”

Sigilene gritted her teeth. “I did not come to help you, Gold Maiden!” She spat it like a curse, but her gloss-covered black eyes drifted back down to her pinky fingers. “Why should I help you? You’re my greatest enemy.” The question came out soft, barely a scrape of sound from her throat.

“Then I suppose you shouldn’t.” Ryn’s legs threatened to snap beneath her as she climbed to her feet, a bead of sweat forming at her hairline. Dizziness spilled over her mind, her eyes blurred upon the white-haired woman standing at the door. “Unless you don’t still think I’m your greatest enemy.”

Sigilene stared for a long time. Her lips pulled thin, jaw hardening. Another tear spilled out, revealing another line of flesh-coloured skin. Without a word, she turned and left, her skirt swishing behind her.

The wide-open door sat in her wake.

Outside, two guards were unconscious against the far wall. Ryn glanced down at the ropes binding her wrists, then at the blade of Prince Mansour’s dagger on the floor.

The Outer Rings were nearly pitch-black, tiny silver puddles marking the ground where the moonlight split through the gaps in a canopy of thorns. Ryn staggered as she dragged a sword along; a heavy, dull blade stolen from a guard outside her cell. She clutched her side where a throbbing pain rippled through her body, worse with each step. Her breaths were loud, slipping through dry, cracked lips as she dragged her tired gaze around the pale walls, searching for the route in her memories.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, El…” She teetered and stumbled forward, catching her weight on her knee. “I thought this was the end. But please, let me make it back to Per-Siana to stop Alecsander. Please let me make it in time.” Her wheezing filled the path; she dragged herself forward on her hands, coming out from beneath the canopy of thorns.