Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(50)

Kason groaned. “You’re not Bophan. You’re Daminan. And furthermore, you don’t have a daughter. At least, you didn’t when you got here and introduced yourself to us seven times.”

“Oh.” Varissa began to sob. “I’m not Bophan?”

“No.”

“I wanted the Dawn Lady to bless my daughter.”

“You don’t—”

The conversation on that end of the cellblock grew jumbled and even more confused. Someone shouted about the Dawn Lady’s shadow again. Hurrok insisted that she’d eaten someone else’s shadow. And finally, Chenda stepped toward the door of her cell and cleared her throat.

Everyone stopped speaking.

Even when they couldn’t see her, they felt the power of her presence.

“Yes.” Chenda lifted her voice. “I am Chenda M’rizz, the Lady of Eternal Dawn. And now I am caught in the great maw of the Pit, like the rest of you.”

One of the other prisoners whimpered. Hurrok, perhaps.

“I was not imprisoned for murder or a withering shadow or eating anyone else’s shadow. I’ll tell you the truth of the matter, but only once. So pay attention.”

Even Gerel leaned toward Chenda’s cell to listen.

“The Twilight Senate discussed a problem, which I found important and dear to my heart. There are many who believe Hartans should be deported, and have begun protesting their continued presence by setting them ablaze.”

Bophans were setting Hartans on fire? My stomach turned over and I wanted to be sick, but I couldn’t stop listening.

“It is a great insult to my people, dying like that, your shadow snuffed out.” She shook her head, braids sliding across her clothes. “After riots across Bopha, the Twilight Senate met to discuss a course of action. It was proposed that Hartans should return to Harta for their own safety and the well-being of Bopha. For a year now, Hartans have been accused of destroying the land.” She paused and frowned. “For centuries, wealthy Bophans have hired Hartans to come tend fields and farms. Even after the Mira Treaty, many Hartans chose to remain.”

Like Hristo’s father. My parents had hired him as a gardener when Hristo was just an infant, and he’d stayed with us after the treaty. He always said he liked working on the prominence, and he was so, so good at it.

“But recently, fields have gone fallow, and not even the most gifted Hartan can make them fertile again. Or, as many Bophans believe, they won’t make those fields fertile. All across Bopha, my people have accused Hartans of poisoning the land.”

That was outrageous. Hartans would never harm the land.

“During the discussion,” Chenda went on, “I stood for Hartans. Many have lived on the Isle of Shadow since childhood. They have nothing in Harta. No promise of work, no place to live. My opponents insisted that Hartans are loving people: they will gladly take in their fellow Daughter-born. But I said that we cannot count on that. For centuries, the Twilight Senate blocked Hartan independence, and as people who committed such a grievous wrong, we must do everything in our power to make it right.”

I nodded. Her words rang true.

“The Twilight Senate said the people of Bopha could not bear the burden of their ancestors’ guilt. They said Harta had been independent for seventeen years—most of my life—and I could not begin to understand how different the world is now.”

I’d often heard the same words from the Luminary Council.

“In the High Tower, in the center of the Shadowed City, we argued the matter for days. Meanwhile, protests and riots broke out all across the island. Suddenly, before the fifth day’s meeting, I was arrested and taken from my home. They said I had been feeding information to a Hartan rebellion on Bopha—through my Hartan lover.”

I gasped.

“They claimed he had started a riot that killed fourteen Bophans, including three members of the Twilight Senate. They claimed he had burned them alive, slaughtering their shadows. They claimed I had told him the time and location to do this. I knew this could not be true. Nevertheless, he was ripped from his home and beaten to death during the arrest. No proof could be found of my involvement, but my association and defense of the Hartan people was enough to earn a sentence to the Pit.”

My heart was pounding and my knuckles pale around the metal grille.

Chenda met my eyes, and for a moment, I thought I saw a spark of recognition. Like she knew me. Like she remembered me. But I had no distinctive markings, and I was so changed from the Hopebearer version of me. Maybe she didn’t know me.

She said, “I am here because I stood up for what was right.”

She was so brave. I wouldn’t have had the courage to stand up like that.

As the evening crawled toward lights-out, I sat in the center of my cell, trying to imagine myself saying the things she’d said, defending the people she’d defended, losing someone I loved like she had. I tried to imagine myself retaining my composure and strength after such heartbreak.

And mostly, I sank beneath the crush of understanding: we’d both defied our governments and tried to do what was right. The Luminary Council’s betrayal was one thing, but the Twilight Senate as well?

I’d been na?ve to think my parents would be able to persuade the Luminary Council to free me, or that the Pit would take prisoners just temporarily. The Pit was for life.