Each flash of light illuminated the sheer, granite cliffs, the oval lake, and the overflow of greenery and flowers that existed nowhere else in the mountains or the desert. As the flare faded, the valley plunged into shadows, and then it flashed again as the next sky serpent died.

The lake looked exactly as she’d pictured it.

“It’s beautiful,” Jarlath breathed.

Liyana couldn’t speak. She watched the white-hot glass scales rain on the lake and the valley. When a scale hit the water, the lake glowed for an instant. Steam curled up. And then it darkened as the scale sank beneath the surface.

“He hasn’t seen us,” Liyana whispered.

“Or he’s too busy with the sky serpents to care,” Korbyn said. “They seek to protect the lake. It is their purpose. They won’t quit no matter how many of them he explodes.”

“We need a plan,” Liyana said. Her knees shook, and she was grateful that Jarlath and Korbyn still held her. Without them, she thought she might fall into the deadly water below. The magic was gone, and she felt empty and breathless. She gripped their arms.

“Simple is best,” Korbyn said. “He can outmagic us.”

Attack him, Bayla said. Liyana repeated her words out loud.

Jarlath nodded. She couldn’t see it, but she felt it. “On the count of three,” he said. “One. Two . . .” Another sky serpent exploded. As its light faded to darkness, Jarlath said, “Three.” They jumped from the cliff.

As another sky serpent dove to attack, they crashed down on top of Mulaf. He was knocked backward, with Korbyn pinning his legs. Looking past them, Mulaf raised his hand up, and the sky serpent exploded. Shards plummeted around them.

Liyana felt a shard graze her arm. She bit back a cry. Shielding her head from the falling glass, Liyana recoiled. Both Korbyn and Jarlath were forced to dodge as well.

Mulaf got to his feet and raised his hand to point at them. Korbyn and Jarlath lunged at him at the same time. Korbyn hit first, and then Jarlath knocked them all backward. They crashed onto the edge of the cliff. Mulaf’s torso extended over open air. Liyana dove forward to catch Korbyn’s legs, adding her weight to keep them from tumbling off the cliff.

Bayla yelled, Watch for—

Korbyn and Jarlath were tossed backward by wind. They slammed into the granite wall. Still prone, Mulaf defeated another sky serpent. He then rose and advanced on the two boys. “Fools!” Mulaf said. “You could have saved yourselves. Now, you and the lake will be buried in this valley.”

“Don’t hurt them!” Liyana stepped in front of them. She felt Bayla pour magic into her.

“Desert princess, your magic cannot hope to compete—”

He expected her to use magic against him. So she didn’t. She slammed her fist into Mulaf’s face. Blood stained his upper lip. As he teetered backward in surprise, she pulled out the sky serpent knife and stabbed him in the stomach.

Her hands shook as she stared at the blood that spread over his clothes. Dark, it blossomed over his torso. Releasing the hilt, she stumbled backward.

He pulled the blade from his stomach, and Korbyn and Jarlath dove at him. His flesh was beginning to heal as they both rammed into him. He toppled over the edge of the cliff, and they fell with him.

“No!” Liyana shouted. She ran to the edge and used Bayla’s magic to send the wind screaming underneath them. It swept them toward the grasses and away from the deadly lake. She leaped into the wind, and it blew her down with them. She hit the ground and rolled.

Healed, Mulaf walked toward the edge of the water. It reflected the moon in its ripples. He raised his hands toward the cliffs. Rocks began to shake. Liyana got to her feet and ran toward him. Jarlath and Korbyn were on their feet and running too. Above, sky serpents circled and cried, looking for their prey.

Jarlath reached him first. He tackled Mulaf from behind.

Mulaf fell forward. His hands slapped the water. Ripples spread from them. His body submerged face-first, and then Jarlath’s arms sank into the water, pushing Mulaf down. Jarlath’s body stiffened, and he collapsed into the water. “No!” Liyana shouted. As she reached for him, the lake water splashed onto her hands.

She died.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Korbyn

Korbyn dragged Liyana’s body away from the shore. She lay peacefully, as if sleeping in the greenery. Returning to the lake, he pulled the emperor by his ankles out of the water. Drops splashed onto Korbyn’s hands, but as a god, he didn’t need to fear the water. Dragging the body over the pebbles, Korbyn laid the emperor next to Liyana. He touched the emperor’s neck.

There was no pulse.

Liyana opened her eyes. “She’s gone,” Bayla said with Liyana’s voice.

“She’ll return,” Korbyn said. “She’s resourceful.”

“She is in the Dreaming,” Bayla said gently.

“She will return with him, and she will not forgive me if he’s dead.” Korbyn judged that he had not been soulless too long. His skin was still warm.

Bayla knelt beside him. She wrapped her arms—Liyana’s arms—around him. “He is already gone. It is over.”

Korbyn shook his head.

“Even if he were to return, his body . . .” She trailed off. “No, Korbyn. Korbyn, look at me. We are together now. You cannot do this.”

“We will be together in the Dreaming,” Korbyn said. “We will be together forever.” He closed his eyes. He had never tried this particular trick before. In theory it was sound. The emperor’s body wasn’t dying from any bodily harm, merely lack of a soul.

He gathered the magic that was his own soul, and he poured it into the emperor’s body.

Korbyn took a breath and opened his eyes. His chest felt different. He was lying in the grasses. Water had dampened his face and his clothes. He opened his eyes and saw his former body in Liyana’s—Bayla’s—arms.

She was crying. “How could you do this to me?”

“She will return,” Korbyn said. His voice sounded different, deeper. “I believe in her.”

“You love her,” Bayla said.

He thought about that. He remembered how he’d met her in the oasis. She’d been throwing sand and screaming at the desert. He remembered how she’d taught him to dance. He remembered guiding her through magic lessons. He remembered how he’d felt when she woke as herself, not as Bayla. “I think I do.”

“You don’t love me.”

“I know I do,” he said.

Bayla cradled his former body. “Your body will die in minutes if you do not return to it. And say that you are correct and your Liyana returns with her emperor’s soul. . . . How will he inhabit that body if you are in it? He is not trained in magic. He will not be able to coexist with you. Your sacrifice will be for nothing.”

“That body is not the sacrifice,” Korbyn said gently.

Bayla stared at him, and he saw the realization spread over her face.

“Our time here is stolen and will come again. These people . . . they deserve to finish their natural lives. They deserve it more than we do. This is their world. These are their lives. We exist for them and because of them.” He attempted a smile and tried to make his voice light. “Besides, you have never seen Liyana when she is angry. She would not like to go through the trouble of saving her emperor only to have him die again here.”

“You truly trust her,” Bayla said.

Korbyn watched the lake. “Yes, I do.” Beside him, in his lover’s arms, his body died.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Liyana was in the desert. She rotated slowly, scanning the horizon. To the east she saw a tamar tree with branches that stretched seemingly for miles. To the west she saw rock hills. It was day. The sun was directly above her. There were no shadows.

She felt no heat. The wind caressed her skin and touched her hair. She wore braids and her ceremony dress, even though she’d lost this dress in the emperor’s camp.