Circle of Shadows (Circle of Shadows, #1)(42)

At the threshold to the temple, Aki stepped out of her shoes, leaving the delicately embroidered slippers on the last stair. She washed her hands in the fountain, rinsing herself of the impurities of earthly life before she addressed the goddess. When she was clean enough, she walked into the small chamber of the temple itself. The Imperial Guards remained outside; gods and goddesses appeared only for the royal family.

The interior of the temple varied in color, depending on the time of day and the mood of the sun. Sometimes light streamed through the crystal and cast a pale orange everywhere. Other times, the room was a swirl of red and gold, like an autumn leaf made of sunbeams.

Today, however, the temple was dark crimson. This is not a good sign, Aki thought.

She knelt before the shrine and lit a stick of incense. Its smoky pomegranate scent wafted up toward the heavens but did nothing to soothe the empress’s nerves.

Aki set down the blue velvet roll Graystone had fetched for her. She untied the gold ribbon and unfurled the velvet on the low table, her fingers shaking. The contents of the roll constituted “the kit” given to each emperor and empress on coronation day: a long needle forged of pure gold; a small, rose-crystal disk; and a white handkerchief, embroidered with the imperial family crest. The Ora tiger wearing a crown graced the corner of the silk.

She centered the crystal disk on the velvet roll. Then she raised the needle to her finger. “I am Aki Ora, empress of Kichona, servant to Sola. I give my blood as proof that I am who I claim, and that it is my honor to offer my life for Kichona.” She pricked her skin, inhaled sharply, and held her finger above the crystal disk. A single droplet of blood fell, as dark as the crimson of the room.

Aki pressed the square of white silk to her finger. The handkerchief was never to be washed or replaced. The blood accumulated over the years was a record of many things, not only the length of an emperor’s rule, but also the number of times Sola’s advice had to be sought. Peaceful reigns required fewer visits to the temple. Turbulent ones left the silk entirely stained with red.

This was only the second drop of blood on Aki’s handkerchief. It could be seen as a victory, evidence of her tranquil reign as the Benevolent One. But Aki frowned at it. Two bloodstains were two too many.

Her blood glistened on the crystal, shiny and round like the most valuable of rubies. Aki waited. Every beat of her heart felt like a century.

Half an hour later, the temperature in the temple warmed, as the sun beamed brighter through its walls. The blood on the disk sizzled. And then it evaporated.

Sola appeared. Even though Aki had seen her once before, she still gaped slack-jawed in awe at the goddess’s radiance. The light surrounding Sola was so bright, it nearly blinded Aki. Even so, she could make out the figure of the goddess within—tall and imposing, with orange flames curling around her head instead of hair. A long red gown, her belly round beneath it, pregnant with the possibilities of the next day. And a face that was smooth as a baby’s one moment, then wrinkled and spotted as a great-grandmother’s the next. The sun goddess had existed for so long, she knew no age.

Simultaneously, Aki felt as if a sliver of herself had been carved away. She gasped, even though she had expected it. Seeking answers or favor from Sola was not free. Age was real for humans, and each visit from Sola cost a year of life. The goddess had just shortened Aki’s by another 365 days.

But it’s for Kichona, Aki reminded herself. It’s worth it.

“You have asked for me,” Sola said, her statement blowing through the temple like a desert wind.

“Yes, my lady,” Aki said, bowing deeply and grateful to be on her knees, since her legs were shaking.

She would have to be quick in explaining what she needed. The daily lives of humans could not hold the gods’ interest for long, and Sola would vanish back to Celestae, island of the gods, if she grew bored.

What bravado Aki had presented when talking to Glass Lady, she shed now.

“My kingdom has been attacked, my lady, but I don’t know what it is that we face. What should I do? Who is this enemy? Will Kichona be safe?”

While Sola considered this, the chamber heated up more as the sun focused its beam on the temple. The crystal acted as a magnifying glass, and Aki grew light-headed. She held on to the shrine’s table to steady herself. The only other time she’d come—to consult Sola about what would become the Blood Rift—Aki had nearly passed out under the goddess’s fiery gaze.

But Aki hadn’t fainted, and she wouldn’t today, either. I am as strong as I was then, she thought. Or stronger. Even if I don’t feel it.

Sola strolled over to the dais where Aki had offered her blood and lit incense to send her request to the heavens. The goddess picked up the handkerchief.

“I do not like to be called upon to settle petty human disputes.”

Aki fell to the ground and bowed again. “I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

Sola scrutinized her. The intensity of her stare was like the heat of a bonfire.

Just as Aki felt as if she would be roasted alive, the goddess relented. “You are young, and therefore unsure,” Sola said. “But I see in you great love for Kichona and unwavering conviction. Stay true to your compass, and you will prevail.”

Aki looked up from the floor. “Thank you, my lady. But you didn’t tell me—who is this new enemy we face?”