Korbyn laid Raan next to the fire, and Liyana checked her pulse. Strong again. She wondered if that was a good sign or not. Adding more fuel to the fire, Liyana turned away.

“She’s awake,” Korbyn said. He pointed at Raan. Or Maara.

Liyana knelt in front of her. “Are you . . .” Her throat closed, and she couldn’t complete the question. Please, please, she silently begged.

Acidly, Bayla asked, Who precisely are you praying to?

Liyana stopped.

“Raan.” Her voice was a croak. “You?”

“Still Liyana,” she said. Relief poured through her and made her head swim. She felt her cheeks stretch from her smile, though she hadn’t realized she was smiling. Her eyes felt hot. She blinked hard, holding back the hot tears. She didn’t know why she felt such relief—the fact that she and Raan remained was unnatural, and she should have abhorred it.

“I should have practiced more,” Raan said. “Never could get the sense of my full self. And now . . . Liyana, I can’t feel my arms or legs.”

Liyana suddenly understood. She met Korbyn’s eyes. “It’s the magic, isn’t it? All your training. That’s why I can hold my body. And Raan . . . She’s only partially trained.”

I knew this was his fault! Bayla said. She swirled fast and furious. Liyana tried to keep her breathing even, but her head whirred and her heart thudded.

Coming out of the tent, Oyri stumbled toward them. “You taught them magic?”

Of all the arrogant, ignorant . . . , Bayla raged.

“Vessels should never be taught magic!” Oyri said.

Raan coughed, and her body spasmed. “Because that makes us harder to kill? Do you feel any remorse for murdering Pia? She was the purest person I have ever met, and you displaced her!”

Joining them by the fire, Sendar glanced at Raan. “She’s not Maara,” he observed.

Oyri spat into the sand. “It’s Korbyn’s fault. He taught them magic.”

Korbyn rose to his feet. “Did you know? Any of you, did you know that training a vessel could save him or her?” He turned to Liyana, and he knelt on one knee. “I swear to you. I did not deliberately keep this knowledge from the desert people. If I had known . . .”

Bayla churned. If you had known, what would you have done? Saved your vessel? I doubt that. You know as well as I do that we have responsibilities, and we need bodies to perform them.

Taking a breath, Liyana repeated Bayla’s words.

“If we can fulfill our responsibilities without causing death . . . ,” Korbyn began.

Sendar waved his hand at Liyana. “You aren’t revolted by this creature? A mortal is keeping her goddess caged inside of her. You should hate her for this crime, especially since the victim is your purported love.” Sendar lifted Liyana’s chin and stared into her eyes as if he could see Bayla within them. “Bayla, I love you enough to set you free, if there were but a way.”

Liyana felt Bayla’s emotions roil inside her—betrayal, pain, anger, all directed at Korbyn. I gave you my heart, and this is how you repay me. Loyalty to a sheep.

Just because he doesn’t want me to die doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, Liyana thought at Bayla. It only means that he has a good heart.

The raven has no heart, Bayla said.

“Of course I love Bayla,” Korbyn said. “I simply do not see why Liyana should have to die if both souls can inhabit one body.”

“I think it’s her fault,” Raan whispered. “Maara. She won’t let me move.”

“Focus on your body,” Liyana said. She clasped Raan’s hand. “You don’t lack for willpower, Raan. You’re strong. You can do this.”

“You’re the strong one.” Raan closed her eyes as she winced. “It hurts. Why does my goddess hurt me?” She started to whimper.

I could hurt you, Bayla whispered.

Liyana froze. She felt as if her blood had chilled. Bayla churned inside her. “Our stories claim you choose vessels because of your great love for us. So why do you do this?” Liyana asked. She looked up at Korbyn and at Sendar, but her words were for Bayla. “You’re supposed to love us! To help us! If we don’t have to die, why kill us? Mulaf believes deities are parasites. Please, tell me he isn’t right!”

Korbyn looked ill. His hands shook, and he turned away from her.

“Bayla, fight this human,” Sendar said. “She poisons the very air with her words.”

Raan coughed again. “You are the poison.” She then closed her eyes, and her head lolled to the side. Her body twitched. After a moment she lay still, unconscious again.

“Raan!” Liyana shook her.

“I have had enough of this sacrilege,” Sendar said. “At dawn we split ways. I will lead my clan to intercept the army at the foot of the forbidden mountains. You will join us there. United, our clans will eliminate this scourge.”

“If this is a ploy to seize power—” Korbyn began.

Sendar scowled, his face tinting purple. “I am best able to lead!”

“Debatable,” Korbyn said. He held up a hand to forestall further argument. “We will fight alongside you.” He turned to Oyri. “And will the Silk Clan fight with us?”

“The Silk Clan does not need—” Oyri began.

“But you do,” Liyana pointed out. “You need help to rejoin your clan, and the clans need your help against the empire.”

Oyri opened her mouth and shut it.

“That is the price of my assistance,” Sendar said. “I will guide you to your clan if you will fight with us against the intruders.”

At last Oyri nodded.

“Still it won’t be enough,” Korbyn said. He began to pace. “We must contact as many other clans as we can. For clans who have their deities, use magic to reach them. For those without, send runners. Liyana, Bayla, and I will bring our clans, the Scorpion Clan, and the clans in the southern desert.”

You have until then to vacate this body, Bayla said. I will not face my clan trapped within you! She produced another sandstorm that knocked Liyana backward.

This time Liyana did not lose consciousness. She clung on as Bayla battered her from within. You’re my goddess! Why do you do this to me?

I want to breathe, to see, to feel, to eat, to sleep, to dance! With each word, the storm inside whipped faster. I want to walk the sands, embrace my lover, fight with my people! I want to live as was promised to me!

Softly, in a near whisper, Liyana said, But I don’t want to die. She felt as if the words were ripped out of her gut.

Immediately the wind died. Bayla fell silent.

Liyana felt a hand on her arm. She focused on Korbyn’s face. “Liyana?” he asked tentatively. “Bayla?”

“Liyana,” she said. And she turned away so she would not have to see whether he was pleased or disappointed.

Chapter Twenty-Five

At dawn Sendar cared for the horses: curried them, trimmed them, and examined every inch of their flesh for abrasions and sprains. Thinking of Fennik, Liyana wondered if Sendar cared for his people that much. She scolded herself for criticizing a deity. But it was difficult not to, now that she had met Sendar, Maara, and Oyri.

Oyri hadn’t stopped talking since she’d woken at dawn. “I shall require a bath when we reach our destination, Sendar. Do your horse people know how to prepare a proper bath? I have sand on my skin, and it is terribly abrasive.”

Liyana wished she could tune her out. Instead she returned to Raan’s side. Earlier she’d woken as Maara but then she’d lapsed into unconsciousness again. “Raan, can you hear me? Are you still there?”

She heard footsteps behind her. She twisted around and saw the horse god studying her with narrowed eyes. “We should take Maara with us,” Sendar said to Oyri. Fennik’s jocular voice was chilled when Sendar spoke.

Oyri nodded. “Indeed. I do not trust that their motives are properly aligned.”

Liyana felt a hand grip her wrist. She looked down to see Raan’s eyes open, beseeching her. “She comes with us,” Liyana said. Raan’s grip loosened.